The Shadowers Read Online Free PDF Page B

strain and wear at the seams. The gloves and stockings were beyond reproach, but the pretty pink satin pumps had been walked in and danced in plenty of times before tonight. I wouldn’t have been surprised to learn they were getting kind of thin underneath.
    She was obviously a kid who had to count her pennies, squeezing just a little more wear out of last year’s glamor. She’d got herself a well-heeled date, she’d promoted drinks at the Montclair, and maybe dinner at Antoine’s was on the program, too. It would be if she had her way, I thought. She didn’t like my butting in one little bit.
    “Please,” she said stiffly. “I’m sorry. This place is taken.”
    “Remember me?” I said. “Paul Corcoran, of Denver, Colorado. This is real great, doll! I checked into the hotel last night, knowing nobody in town, I thought. And tonight I drop in here for a drink and look who’s sitting here! What about the creep you’re with? Can you ditch him?”
    She looked at me for a moment longer, long enough to know perfectly well she didn’t remember me from anywhere. She looked quickly toward the door marked gentlemen but it remained closed. She glanced toward the bartender.
    “I wouldn’t,” I said softly. “Smile and look down, doll. Coy-like. Then look up again and laugh as if my being here was just about the funniest and nicest thing that ever happened in your young life.”
    She hesitated and glanced down. Her smile wavered terribly as she saw the little knife in my hand, open, concealed from everyone else by our bodies and the overhang of the bar. The barman put my Martini in front of me, picked up his money and went away, noticing nothing. I reached for the drink left-handed. The kid was still smiling fixedly at the knife.
    “Look up at me and laugh now,” I said over the rim of the glass. She looked up at me and laughed. Well, you could call it a laugh. “It’s four inches long in the blade,” I said, “It’s very sharp. Take a drink and laugh.” She took a drink and laughed. “Did you ever see anybody who’d been opened with a knife?” I asked. “It’s very messy, doll. Somebody’ll get me, sure, if you yell for help, but they’ll be too late. You’ll be sitting there holding your guts in place with those nice white gloves, feeling your life run out between your fingers, warm and wet and red. Like, you know, blood.”
    I was laying it on thick, real colorful stuff. The circular bar was still turning slowly. All around us people were talking and laughing. The kid touched her lips with the tip of her tongue.
    “What... what do you want?”
    “Look toward the john again and laugh. You’re going to ditch your boyfriend now and go with me. We’re old friends, remember. Don’t forget your purse. Pick it up now.” She picked it up mechanically. I said, “The barman is coming this way. Give him the message. Say he’s to tell the gentleman that you had to leave but you’ll call him in the morning. First take my arm fondly and wink at me as you say it. Now.”
    It worked. It had happened too quickly for her to think up any tricks, and the barman dealt with drunks and oddballs all night long. He wasn’t looking for nuances. Then we were moving out of there, chattering brightly— at least I was chattering brightly—while the slim girl in pink clung to my arm desperately and smiled and smiled with panic in her big dark eyes.
    The bald man at the corner table didn’t look at us once, all the way to the door. Neither did anyone else except perhaps Olivia Mariassy, and she’d naturally have some masochistic interest in watching the man who’d repulsed her awkward attempt at conversation leaving with a younger and prettier girl.

5
    It was a long way through the lobby to the street door, and my patter had lost a good deal of its spontaneous wit and sparkling originality by the time I got her out on the sidewalk. Then we were walking away from the hotel. It was the old part of New Orleans, with