The Mysterious Mickey Finn Read Online Free PDF

would not be ogled or annoyed by night-faring tourists she was pretending to read a copy of the Saturday Review of Literature, Actually she was thinking: ‘He’s coming. He’s really coming. I’m not sorry I hurried back to Paris. I don’t care if they stop making pianos to-morrow. He didn’t seem to dislike me. He didn’t throw me out.’
    â€˜Am I late?’ Evans asked.
    The clock on the nearby tower began to strike, so an answer was unnecessary.
    â€˜I was early,’ she said, apologetically.
    â€˜I’ve involved you in a conspiracy,’ he said.
    How pleased she was that he didn’t try to talk about the piano. How marvellously tactful to plunge her at once into another line of thought, she said to herself.
    â€˜You are very thoughtful,’ she said.
    â€˜You won’t think so when I tell you about it,’ he went on. ‘But first, let’s order something to eat. I’m starved. I’ve done more meddling into other people’s affairs to-day than in all my life together.’
    â€˜In what way can I help you?’ she asked.
    â€˜I warn you that the assignment is a tough one. You’ve got to immobilize Ambrose Gring… you’ve got to hold him like a bird before a snake....’
    Her dismay was eloquent. ‘That lizard ! What on earth have I to do with Ambrose Gring?’
    â€˜I’ve got to be certain that he doesn’t leave his table on the Dôme terrasse between the hours of eleven this evening and one to-morrow morning,’ Evans said. ‘It’s a matter of life and death, almost.’
    â€˜Would it be asking too much if I begged for an inkling as to why I should immobilize that scissorbill, and if not why, at least how? He never has even so much as glanced at me. I’m not in Bradstreet, worse luck, and although I’ve paid little attention to your friend Ambrose I’m sure he’s fond of money. Of course, I’m stronger than he is, but if I hold him forcibly in place won’t he scream? Wouldn’t the police interfere, or the waiters? I’d have to give them some explanation.’
    â€˜I’ve attended to all that,’ Evans said. ‘I’ve already told Gring that your father just struck oil.’
    â€˜Oh,’ she gasped. ‘You’ve told him that.’
    â€˜I’ve taken an even greater liberty,’ Evans went on. ‘I hinted that you had come back to Paris expressly on his account, that you like him, that he ... er ... fascinates you.’
    Miriam half rose, then regained a part of her former placidity. ‘Mr Evans,’ she said, severely, ‘if anyone, but you had done such a trick, I would crown him with this siphon and leave town.’
    â€˜Please let me explain....’
    â€˜Well. That’s a relief. You’re going to explain.’
    Rapidly and succinctly he told her about Hjalmar Jansen’s predicament and the remedy he himself had suggested. Her hearty but not boisterous laugh caused neighbouring drinkers to glance at the handsome couple, all except Harold Stearns, who was taking his drinking with the usual appropriate seriousness and thinking about the Atlantic Ocean because it was between him and prohibition in the United States.
    â€˜I’ll do the best I can, but how does one strike oil? I’ve got to haves a factual background, or Ambrose will smell a rat.’
    â€˜He won’t find it strange that you’ve taken a fancy to him. It will seem to him quite normal. Whenever he gets you on dangerous ground talk about money. You must have seen large sums of it in mints or banks. But above all, don’t mention Hugo Weiss and if you see any of the neighbouring painters dashing toward Hjalmar’s studio with canvases under their arms rivet Gring’s attention.’
    â€˜If only it were anyone except Gring,’ she sighed. ‘However, I’ll try.’
    They had finished their dinner, there