The Poisoners Read Online Free PDF

hell, there I go, losing my temper. Excuse me, Mr. Helm. I’m just upset about losing Arthur, just for one lousy mistake. He’s a good man… Okay, so the mistake was his and you can have him. But don’t try taking it any farther. I’m not crazy enough to think I can buck the U.S. government and win, but I can sure as hell give you a lot of publicity while I’m losing. And I don’t think you secret-agent hush-hush types would like that. Check with your chief and see if I’m not right. He said inconspicuously, remember? Well, you can settle for Arthur, inconspicuously, or you can have a fight that’ll make you conspicuous as hell. Take your choice, Mr. Helm. Check with your boss and see if he really wants to go into the syndicate-busting business just because somebody made a mistake. Okay?”
    I looked at Arthur Brown. “You worked her over before you shot her. Why?”
    The black man looked up sharply, frowning. “What do you mean, man. I didn’t…”
    “Never mind, Arthur,” Warfel said quickly. “Mr. Helm, it was a simple case of mistaken identity. And who your girl was mistaken for, and why, is none of your damn business.”
    “I guess not. May I make a phone call, collect, to Washington, D.C.?”
    He gestured towards the other room, magnanimously. “Be my guest. Live it up. Charge it to me.” He hesitated. “Just one thing, Mr. Helm. On the phone you reported that your girl had told you something before she died. What did she say?”
    I laughed. “Hell, she didn’t say anything. I figured somebody might be listening. That was just sugar to draw flies, Mr. Warfel.”
    The blonde looked up from her magazine and winked at me playfully as I went past. It was quite a wink, since her lashes were almost an inch long. I couldn’t match it so I didn’t try.

4
    The station wagon was waiting when we came downstairs. I opened the door and let Arthur Brown get in first. He was a little clumsy because of his bound hands. They were tied in front of him, with his jacket draped to hide the ropes.
    Warfel had seemed to think it was sissy of me to want him tied, just as it was sentimental of me not to slit his throat on the spot. I wasn’t really much of a guy, in Warfel’s opinion. I worried about this like I worried about the opinion of the ducks in the pond I passed earlier in the evening, or even a little less. As a hunter of sorts, I have a lot of respect for ducks.
    Arthur Brown looked like a professional boxer to me, and I don’t play games with those; I know some trick stuff that’ll handle the amateurs, but I wouldn’t dream of trying it on a real pro fighter. If he came for me, I’d have to stop him with a gun, and I didn’t want to, at least not yet.
    “All right, Willy,” I said, having learned the driver’s name from Warfel. “Head back the way we came, slowly. If somebody pulls alongside and blows a horn, don’t get excited. Just take it to the curb and stop it. I’m assuming it does have brakes.”
    “If they don’t work, I’ll open the door and drag my foot,” said Willy, cutting out into traffic without a glance at the mirror. Three blocks later he said, “We’ve got company like you said. Do you want me to stop now?”
    “They’ll let you know when.”
    “I don’t like this.”
    “Sure you do,” I said. “Mr. Warfel said for you to do exactly what I told you. I heard him. Sure you like it, Willy. You’re paid to like it.”
    “Okay, I like it.”
    We rode along for a while without conversation. I was aware of Arthur Brown, silent beside me. I’m a firm believer in racial equality, but that doesn’t mean I kid myself that I’ll ever know exactly what thoughts are going through the head of a member of another race. We may all be equal as hell, but that doesn’t mean we necessarily think alike.
    “What’s your real name?” I asked.
    “Arthur Brown,” he said.
    “Go to hell,” I said. “There may be Arthur Browns—there undoubtedly are—but you’re not one of