The Key to Midnight Read Online Free PDF Page A

wouldn’t raise the subject. It was essential that he induce her to talk unselfconsciously about herself, but she resisted—evidently not out of any sinister motive but out of sheer modesty. Ordinarily Alex was also reluctant to talk about himself, even with close friends; curiously, in Joanna’s company, those inhibitions dissolved. While trying unsuccessfully to probe into her past, he told her a great deal about his own.
    “Are you really a private detective?” she asked. “It’s hard to believe. Where’s your trench coat?”
    “At the cleaners. They’re removing the unsightly bloodstains.”
    “You aren’t wearing a shoulder holster.”
    “It chafes my shoulder.”
    “Aren’t you carrying a gun at all?”
    “There’s a miniature derringer in my left nostril.”
    “Come on. I’m serious.”
    “I’m not here on business, and the Japanese government tends to frown on pistol-packing American tourists.”
    “I’d expect a private detective to be ... well, slightly seedy.”
    “Oh, thank you very much.”
    “Tough, squint-eyed, sentimental but at the same time cynical.”
    “Sam Spade played by Humphrey Bogart. The business isn’t like that any more,” Alex said. “If it ever was. Mostly mundane work, seldom anything dangerous. Divorce investigations. Skip tracing. Gathering evidence for defense attorneys in criminal cases. Providing bodyguards for the rich and famous, security guards for department stores. Not half as romantic or glamorous as Bogart, I’m afraid.”
    “Well, it’s more romantic than being an accountant.” She savored a tender piece of chicken, eating as daintily as did the Japanese, but with a healthy and decidedly erotic appetite.
    Alex watched her surreptitiously: the clenching of her jaw muscles, the sinuous movement of her throat as she swallowed, and the exquisite line of her lips as she sipped the hot sake.
    She put down the cup. “How’d you get into such an unusual line of work?”
    “As a kid, I decided not to live my life on the edge of poverty, like my parents, and I thought every attorney on earth was filthy rich. So with a few scholarships and a long string of night jobs, I got through college and law school.”
    “Summa cum laude?”
    Surprised, he said, “How’d you know that?”
    “You’re obsessive-compulsive.”
    “Am I? You should be a private detective.”
    “Samantha Spade. What happened after graduation?”
    “I spent a year with a major Chicago firm that specialized in corporate law. Hated it.”
    “But that’s an easier road to riches than being a P.I.”
    “The average income for an attorney these days is around maybe eighty thousand. Less back then. As a kid, it looked like riches, because what does a kid know. But after taxes, it would never be enough to put me behind the wheel of a Rolls-Royce.”
    “And is that what you wanted—a Rolls-Royce lifestyle?”
    “Why not? I had the opposite as a child. There’s nothing ennobling about poverty. Anyway, after a couple of months of writing briefs and doing legal research, I knew the really enormous money was only for senior partners of the big firms. By the time I could have worked my way to the top, I’d have been in my fifties.”
    When he was twenty-five, confident that the private security field would be a major growth industry for several decades, Alex had left the law firm to work for the fifty-man Bonner Agency, where he intended to learn the business from the inside. By the time he was thirty, he arranged a bank loan to buy the agency from Martin Bonner. Under his guidance, the company moved aggressively into all areas of the industry, including installation and maintenance of electronic security systems. Now Bonner-Hunter Security had offices in eleven cities and employed two thousand people.
    “You have your Rolls-Royce?” Joanna asked.
    “Two.”
    “Is life better for having two?”
    “Sounds like a Zen question.”
    “And that sounds like an evasion.”
    “Money’s