Read The Whole Man for Free Online

beyond that, sat him down in a room furnished with four identical red velvet lounges, decorated with gilt pillars and pretty abstract paintings.
    “Wait,” Oily-hair said curtly, and went out.
    Howson sat, very tense, on the edge of the velvet cushions, eyes roving as he tried to figure out what went on back here. He fancied he caught a clicking noise, and recalled a shot from a favorite movie. Roulette. The air smelled of anxiety, and that would be why.
    Soon Oily-hair returned, beckoned him, and this time took him into a businesslike office where a lean man with pale hands presided behind a telephone-laden desk, tall youths like guards at either side of him. At Howson’s entrance the looks on their faces changed; they had been wary, and became astonished.
    Looking at the man behind the desk, Howson could see why he was called The Snake. His mere presence was devious; cunning lighted the dark irises of his eyes.
    He studied Howson for a long moment, then lifted an eyebrow in wordless inquiry to Oily-hair.
    “Crooky here wants to sell information about Cudgels,” was the condensed explanation. “That’s all I know.”
    “Hmmm …” The Snake rubbed his smooth chin. “And walks in unannounced. Interesting. Who are you, Crooky?”
    It didn’t seem to be as unkindly meant as it usually was; it was simply a label. Maybe a man who was called The Snake was casual about such things. Howson cleared his throat.
    “My name’s Gerry Howson,” he said. “I was down the movie theater an hour back. There was this guy waiting for someone to move to the next seat while the picture was playing. They whispered together, and I overheard them.”
    “Uh-huh,” The Snake commented. “So-o-o?”
    “This is where we get to the price,” Oily-hair suggested.
    “Shut up, Collar,” The Snake said. He kept his eyes on Howson.
    “A boat’s coming upriver to Black Wharf at two a.m. I don’t know for sure it’s tonight, but I think so. It has half a million worth of stuff on it.”
    Howson waited, thinking belatedly that Collar was probably right—he should have named a price, at least, or fed the news by stages. Then he caught himself. No, he’d done it the right way. There was total silence. And it was lasting.
    “So that’s how he does it,” The Snake said finally. “Hear that, Collar? Well, if you heard it, what are you doing standing there?”
    Collar gulped audibly and snatched at one of the phones on the desk. There was another silence, during which the two guards stared with interest at Howson.
    “Gizmo?” Collar said in a low voice to the phone. “Collar. You can talk? … General call. We have some night work … Yes, OK. Not more than two hours. Smooth!”
    He cradled the phone. The Snake was getting to his feet. The process appeared to be complete. Howson felt a stab of panic at its speed. He said, “Uh, I guess it’s worth something, isn’t it?”
    “Possibly.” The Snake gave him a sleepy smile. “We’ll know soon enough, won’t we? Right now what it’s worth is—oh, let’s say a few drinks, a square meal, which you look like you could do with, and some company. Hear me, Lots?”
    One of the youthful guards nodded and stepped forward.
    “Look after him. He may be valuable, he may not: we’ll see. Dingus!”
    The other guard responded.
    “He says his name is Gerry Howson. Get his address off him. Go down around where he lives and put some questions. Don’t take more than a couple of hours over it. If you get the slightest smell—if anyone says he’s even been seen on the same bus with one of Cudgels’ boys—blow in and warn me. And sound out the fuzz on your way if you can find one of our friends on duty at headquarters.”
    Howson, fighting terror, said huskily, “This man in brown … he said he bought the sergeant, whichever that one is.”
    “He would. You didn’t know either of these men, did you?” The Snake added, struck by the thought.
    “No, I … uh … never saw them