The Night People Read Online Free PDF

anyway?”
    “I don’t know. Everyone seems to know her but me.”
    “Well, believe me, she’s nothing special, dear.”
    He laughed. “That’s a typical woman’s viewpoint.”
    The conversation shifted to other topics, and once again the misty form of Ida Spain passed from his consciousness.
    The next time Jim Crandell heard the name was the following week, when he was lunching with Bill Kook, one of the inside salesmen.
    “You know Foster Hastings, don’t you, Bill?”
    Bill Kook, big, smiling, never troubled, thought about it for a moment before he nodded. “I’ve met him once or twice.”
    “He was telling me about a new girl around town named Ida Spain. She’s supposed to be really something.”
    Bill Kook chuckled. “You can say that again. I’ve been out with her once or twice myself. She’s really the end!”
    “You too! What does she look like, anyway?”
    “An angel, boy; just an angel.”
    Jim frowned and lit a cigarette. “How come I’ve never met her if she’s around so much?”
    Bill thought about it. “Well, you’re out of town usually during the week. And she’s never around on weekends.”
    “She isn’t! How come?”
    “Who knows? Some of the boys think she’s got a husband on the side. If that’s the story, though, he must be a real dope not to keep better track of her.”
    “Well, look, I’m not going to be away this week. See if you can fix it up so I meet her.”
    Bill Kook chuckled. “What’s the matter, Jim? Your wife not treating you right?”
    “No, nothing like that. I’m just interested. I’ve heard so much about her, yet I’ve never met her.”
    Bill smiled knowingly. “Okay, boy. I’ll see what I can do.”
    But the week passed without any word from Bill, and when Jim asked him about it on Friday he simply shrugged and replied that she hadn’t been around lately. That was all. She hadn’t been around lately.
    The next week he was out of town again, this time to a city in West Virginia. But by Thursday the vague vision of this girl he’d never met was too much for him. He put in a long distance call to the office and asked for Bill Kook.
    “Bill, Jim Crandell here.”
    “Yes, Jim.” And then the eternal question, “How’s the trip going?”
    “Good, but I think I can finish up here a day earlier than I expected. I’m flying back early this evening. I was wondering if there might be anything doing.”
    “Doing, Jim?”
    “You know—any place that Ida Spain might turn up.”
    “Funny you should mention that, Jim. I just had a drink with her last night. Some friend of Foster Hastings is having a party tonight and she expects to be there.”
    “Where is it?”
    “Just a small affair at the fellow’s apartment. I think it’s in the Clinton Arms. His name is Pinky something.”
    “I met him once. Thanks, Bill. I’ll find it. It’s swell of you to cut me in on the fun.”
    Two hours later, as his plane slid beneath an overcast sky for an easy landing, Jim debated briefly about calling Doris from the airport. Finally he decided against it, mainly because he couldn’t yet explain his odd actions even to himself. The thing had grown like an obsession within him. He had to see this girl. She was suddenly more important than anything else, even Doris.
    He found the Clinton Arms without trouble, and even the location of the party was obvious from the muffled murmur that reached his ears. He checked the name on the door—Pinky Peterson—and walked in.
    Foster Hastings was the first to notice him. He detached himself from a slim blonde and came over with a drink, “Swell to see you, boy. That fellow from your office—Kook—said you might drop by.”
    “He did, huh? Where’s Ida Spain?”
    Hastings seemed puzzled by his abrupt manner, but he pointed toward the kitchen. “She’s back there with our host.”
    Jim pushed his way through the dozen or so people in the living room and made for the kitchen. Now….
    But there was only Pinky, pulling an