The Pandora Directive: A Tex Murphy Novel Read Online Free PDF Page A

done. It was probably a bad idea.
    “How about the Fuchsia Flamingo?”
     
    It turned out that the owner of a Flamingo, a fellow by the name of Gus Leach, had given Chelsee a complimentary membership. As we stepped inside the club, we were greeted by the moustachioed mutant I’d met earlier. “Hello, Miss Bando.”
    “Hello, Gus. This is a good friend of mine. Tex Murphy — Gus Leach.”
    Leach sized me up. I hadn’t made a good first impression, but being a friend of Chelsee’s might compensate. Leach looked back at Chelsee, then extended his hand toward me. “We met, though we weren’t properly introduced.”
    My knuckles popped as he shook my hand. I wouldn’t be shuffling cards for a while.
    “Sit anywhere you like. I’ll send the waitress right over.”
    We opted for a corner table. There were only five other people in the club, and we barely beat the waitress to our seats. Chelsee asked for a Cape Codder. Feeling playful, I ordered Scotch. Chelsee excused herself, leaving me to survey the surroundings. The Flamingo’s interior was a shrine to bad taste on an epic scale, an unparalleled mish-mash of exotic things, neon, and garage sale oddities. The baby grand and a microphone stand were on a stage at the far end of the room. In the centre of the club, a small, unused parquet dancefloor sparkled under a giant disco ball. Chelsee and the drinks arrived simultaneously.
    “This is quite a place. Interesting decor.”
    Chelsee smiled and stirred her vodka and cranberry juice. “I like it. But then, I’ve always been secretly attracted to blatant tackiness.” her eyes locked on to mine as she leaned forward and sipped through the straw in her drink.
    “Should I take that personally?”
    She shrugged coyly. “Take it any way you want.”
    My right foot spontaneously started tapping like a machine gun. For over a year, I’d pursued Chelsee shamelessly — without her ever giving me the slightest bit of encouragement. Rejection fit into my image — the lone wolf. Besides, it was one thing I was good at. Now she was turning the tables on me, or so it seemed. The hunter had become the hunted. My mouth suddenly dry, I grabbed my Scotch and gulped it. Chelsee raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, pressing her chin on the back of her hand. I smiled nervously and turned to find the waitress.
    “Do you want to know what I was going to tell you last night?” Chelsee’s voice had slipped to a throaty whisper. God, I needed another Scotch. I signalled to the waitress, then turned back to Chelsee, trying to sound nonchalant.
    “Sure.” my voice was cracking slightly. I fumbled with my pack of Lucky Strikes.
    “I was gonna tell you that I’ve been thinking… you know… about me and you.”
    The match shook slightly as it wandered toward the end of my cigarette.
    “I have to admit… I used to think you were just another smug, insensitive back of hormones, going through a midlife crisis. Now that I know you better, I realise this isn’t a midlife crisis at all.”
    The cigarette was calming me down. “Thanks… I think.”
    Chelsee smiled down at her drink and slowly stirred it with her forefinger. I just decided that, underneath it all, you’re really a nice guy. And I’ve always thought you were quite attractive.”
    She lifted her finger out of the drink and ran it like a cross her lower lip. Lord, she really knew how to pitch my tent. Moving her drink to the side, she again leaned forward and placed her chin on the back of her hand. It looked like it was my turn to talk. I sent a stream of smoke off to the side; I’d regained control.
    “This sudden interest… seeing me in a new light — I mean, I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, if you’ll pardon the expression, but this isn’t connected in any way to, say, someone’s recently celebrated birthday?”
    “I don’t know. Maybe. I think that made me take a look at myself, look at what’s important. For a long time now I’ve been