The Scarlet Letters Read Online Free PDF

have someone on hand when trouble starts, Nikki. Before it starts.” Ellery sucked on his pipe. “Nikki Porter, undercover agent. Of course, I neglected to tell Martha that when I phoned her, just before you came in. Dirk was sluggishly interested and rather grateful, and Martha sounded as if I were her patron saint. As far as they’re concerned, this is an experiment in trying to get Dirk back to work. You’re to act in a Girl Friday capacity, typing for Dirk, telling him what a deathless passage he just dictated, holding his hand when the Muse fails, mixing his cocktails for him–keeping his mind on himself as a writer and off Martha and her imaginary love affairs. “No, wait till I finish, Nikki. Martha insists on your living in. She’s going to turn her dressing room into a spare bedroom for you. That’s a break, because it puts us on the scene twenty-four hours a day instead of eight. If you agree to do it, you’ll have to keep watching for danger signals and make immediate reports to me. If we can keep Dirk harmlessly occupied for long enough, maybe a more permanent course of action will suggest itself.
    â€œAnd one thing more before you say anything,” said Ellery, going over to her. “I wouldn’t have cooked this up if I thought I was sending you into personal danger. But that’s only one man’s guess, and a layman’s at that. I’ve got to leave it up to you, Nikki. In fact, I find myself sort of hoping you’ll turn it down.”
    â€œAll I was trying to say,” said Nikki, “was: When do I start?”
    Ellery kissed her soberly. “Get into a cab and go right over there.”
    That was a Tuesday. By Friday evening Dirk Lawrence’s new secretary was able to report that all was well. In fact, said Nikki, all was so well that she was beginning to wonder if Martha hadn’t exaggerated.
    â€œI went over there on Tuesday and Dirk was snoring his head off, catching up on his sleep. So Martha helped me bring some things over from my apartment, and we fixed up the dressing room for me. By that time Dirk had had a shower and changed into clean clothes, and the three of us had a nice objective talk about work and domestic arrangements, and then Martha kissed him and left us in his study, where he works, and we got going.
    â€œHe’s a dynamo, Ellery. The whole thing seems to have given him a shot in the arm. He had a folder full of notes and we went through them the rest of Tuesday and all day Wednesday, reorganizing his material, discarding a lot of it, making notes of new ideas–I’m really quite impressed. It’s going to be a sensational book if it’s ever finished. By Wednesday night I was so fagged Martha put her foot down and we knocked off at a reasonable hour. But I didn’t let myself fall asleep until I heard Dirk snoring.
    â€œThen yesterday morning we went at it again, and this is the first chance I’ve had to call. Dirk and Martha are in the tub having a high old time splashing each other, and the three of us are going out to dinner.”
    â€œYou’ve seen no sign of anything, Nikki?”
    â€œNot a ripple. He’s really thrown himself into this, Ellery. He’s trying hard. Martha has her fingers crossed, but she’s beginning to look happy again. Oh, I hope this works out.”
    â€œTry to arrange a foursome for dinner tomorrow night.”
    On Saturday night they went to a penthouse restaurant on 59th Street, overlooking Central Park. Dirk ordered breast of guinea hen under glass and French champagne; he was in high spirits. Martha was radiant.
    It was Dirk who brought up the subject of the novel. “It’s going great,” he said. “I never realized before what a difference a skilled literary secretary makes. This must be a real sacrifice for you, Ellery. I can’t thank you enough.”
    â€œDedicate the book to me,” said Ellery