Read 1951 - But a Short Time to Live for Free Online

ash blond and grew in two heavy wings, brushed carefully above his ears. His eyes were pale blue, almost colourless, shrewd, hard and steady. He wore a light grey suit that had cost him fifty guineas, a white silk shirt, a yellow tie ornament with horses' heads in dark brown, and reversed calf shoes.
    His name was Robert Brady.
    "Hallo, darling," he said, and smiled, showing a mouthful of gold-capped teeth. "How very pensive you look."
    "Have you been in there all the time?" she demanded, her face hardening.
    He nodded.
    "All the time, precious, with my ear glued to the keyhole." He dug his finger into his right ear and grinned. "Keyholes are beastly draughty things," he complained, sitting down before the fire. "Did you have to bring him here?"
    "I was nearly caught," she said shortly. "If you were listening you must have heard all about it. I had to be nice to him or he might have been difficult."
    "It didn't seem such an unpleasant task," he said. "Did you have to give him chicken? I was going to eat that myself."
    "Oh, shut up!" Clair said crossly. "How did you get in here?"
    "With a key," Brady said. "You know, one of those metal gadgets that lock and unlock doors. Didn't you know I had a key?"
    "No, I didn't!" Clair said. "Give it to me at once! I'm not going to have you in and out just whenever you like."
    "After all it's my flat," Brady said mildly. "I'm entitled to come in and out, precious."
    "If you don't give me that key I'll have the lock changed," Clair said furiously. "And as long as I'm here, this is not your flat."
    Brady studied her; his fat, pink face expressionless. Then, because he had two duplicates of the key, he dipped a fat finger and thumb into his waistcoat pocket and produced the key.
    "Have it your own way," he said. "We won't quarrel about it Where's the wallet?"
    "That's all you think about!" She opened her bag and threw the wallet at him.
    "Darling, couldn't you try to cultivate a few manners?" he asked as he bent to pick it up. "Do you always have to behave like the gutter-bred whore that you are?"
    "Oh, shut up!" she said, and walked over to the cellaret and poured herself out a drink.
    "I'm afraid your new friend has had a disturbing influence on you," Brady said as he counted the five-pound notes he found in the wallet. "Was he very romantic?"
    "Oh, shut up!" she repeated, sitting down.
    "Fifty quid!" He glanced up and showed his gold teeth in a meaningless smile. "That's not bad." He took six of the notes and folding them into a compact packet, stowed them away in his waistcoat pocket.
    The remaining four notes he took over to Clair. "There's a reward for a clever girl."
    She snatched them from him, and pushed them indifferently into her purse.
    "You really are in a sour temper tonight, precious, aren't you?" he said, and patted her face with his fingertips.
    She jerked away.
    "Take your paws off me!" she said. "I'm not in the mood for mauling tonight."
    "Considering your trade, you should always be in the mood," he said, chuckling. "What was the young man's name?"
    "I don't know," she said, not looking at him. "Harry. He didn't say what his other name was."
    "Never mind," Brady said, moving about the room, his hands in his trouser pockets. "We can always find out. I think he said he worked for Mooney's Camera Studio in Link Street, didn't he? I know the place."
    She jumped to her feet and went up to him.
    "What do you mean? What are you planning?" she demanded, catching hold of his arm.
    "Why, surely," he said, smiling down at her. "He has three hundred pounds. It should be fairly simple for you to get that from him, shouldn't it? You're not going to miss a chance like that, are you?"
    "Don't be ridiculous," she said. "I'm not likely to see him again. It's not as if he carried it around with him. He keeps it in the Post Office."
    "It doesn't matter where he keeps it. He'll spend it on you if you give him the chance, and you'll see him again. He'll phone. It's funny how these nice boys