Two Faced Woman. Lucy Gordon

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ time the only thing that enlivened her boredom was a small newspaper item reporting that “entrepreneur Elroy Speke” had suffered a burglary at his office. It appeared that Mr. Speke had declined to call the police since he blamed himself for lax security, preferred not to cause trouble, and various other reasons all equally unconvincing. Nonetheless, the story had somehow found its way into the press, together with the information that every single paper in his filing cabinets had been removed, leaving only an empty shell and a note saying that the contents would be destroyed unread.

      Debbie read this through carefully, then whistled in unwilling tribute to Jake Garfield.

      The following evening she went out with a team she often worked with, trawling the city streets for homeless youngsters who could be taken to a safe place. With her huge, shapeless sweater, her face bare of makeup and her glorious fair hair pulled tightly back, she looked very different than the seductive beauty who’d attacked Jake’s defenses so successfully a few days ago.

      Coming home at two in the morning, she went into the darkened flat, and stopped, instantly alert. There was no sound or movement, but all her senses told her that she wasn’t alone. She tensed, ready for action, but then some instinct made her say into the darkness, “I suppose the man who could burgle Elroy Speke so thoroughly would have no trouble with my locks.”

      “That’s very good,” said a cool voice.

      She snapped on the light and saw Jake sprawled on her sofa. He had three days’ growth of beard and looked as if he hadn’t slept or eaten for at least that time. He rubbed his eyes as if it was an effort to keep them open. “I was expecting to hear from you before this,” she said.

      “My time’s been rather taken up. A man I put away escaped from jail, hell-bent on killing me. He’s back behind bars now, but I had to give him all my attention—well, almost all. Here.” He handed her a large brown envelope.

      Debbie pulled it open quickly. It contained the compromising pictures of Jane Quinlan, looking fifteen years younger than the woman Debbie knew. There was also a full set of negatives.

      “I took everything he had and destroyed all the others,” Jake said with a yawn. “But I thought you’d like to give these back to your client.”

      “She’ll be thrilled,” Debbie breathed. “Thank you.” She colored suddenly. “I couldn’t have done it so thoroughly.”

      “You underrate yourself. Your, er, talents would have achieved a result in the end.”

      “Yes, I could have gotten Jane’s pictures, but I couldn’t have saved all his other victims, the way you have,” Debbie said honestly.

      “You’re a fair-minded woman,” Jake said, regarding her. He sighed and added reluctantly, “I guess I can work with you.”

      “But you’d much rather not,” Debbie said, goaded by his tone.

      “But I’d much rather not,” he agreed.

      “You don’t like working with women at all, do you?”

      “Whatever gave you that idea?” he demanded sarcastically.

      “Chief Manners. I asked him about you.”

      “What a coincidence. I asked him about you.”

      “According to him, you’re known as Stoneface.”

      “He says you’re brave, resourceful and trustworthy—”

      “But?” For Jake’s tone clearly contained a “but.”

      “But too prone to get some bee in your bonnet and forget everything else. In other words, you’re unreliable, and to me that wipes out all the rest. And, yes, since you’re asking, I’d say the same about any female colleague. I’ve worked with women before and always ended up swearing never, never again. I acted on impulse the other day and I wish I hadn’t. Unfortunately it’s too late to cancel the plan. My superiors are delighted with it, so I’m stuck with it.”

      “Stuck with me, you mean?”

      “Yes,” he snapped. “I must have been out of my head. You, of all people, with your scatterbrained way of working...”

      “You can’t forget one little mistake, can you?” she snapped.

      “One little mistake was all right with me but it’ll be one too many with Lucky Driver. He’s a ruthless murderer. Do you know what happened to Liz James?”

      “No.”

      “Neither do I, and that worries the hell out of me. She’s vanished off the face of the earth. I hope that means she’s gone into hiding but it might mean something more sinister.”

      “It makes it the right moment for me to appear in Lucky’s life,” Debbie said thoughtfully. “He’s not only lost his woman, he’s lost face. He needs a new woman on his arm, someone spectacular.”

      The relish with which she said “spectacular” made Jake look at her sharply. For the first time he fully took in her shabby clothing and absence of makeup. It didn’t matter, he realized. Her glorious sexual aura was so vital a part of her that it shone through her prosaic garments. It was there in her glowing skin, in the instinctive elegance of her movements. It breathed through her every pore. This was a woman whose sexuality could give a man heaven or hell. The hell he already knew about. The heaven was a dream whose fulfillment had been cruelly snatched away from him.

      As he stared, the formless clothes seemed to become transparent, enabling him to see the beautiful frame beneath, as he’d seen it before, once in reality and every moment since in his unwilling consciousness. The memory dominated what little sleep he’d had these last few days.

      “And you think you’re spectacular enough for this assignment?” he asked ironically.

      “Don’t you?” she asked simply.

      He took a deep breath. “I guess you already know the answer to that.”

      “I can be as spectacular as I have to be. Just leave the details to me.”

      He seemed to speak with an effort. “Well, now that we’ve got that settled, I can give you your orders.”

      Debbie stiffened at the word “orders.” “How about we tackle this as a team of equals?” she said, trying to sound pleasant.

      “No. How about we do it the efficient way, with me leading and you following?” he said curtly. “This is a police matter and the police must direct it.”

      It was a reasonable argument and if he’d spoken courteously Debbie would have accepted it, but his brusque tone set her back up. “So you’re going to tell me how to win Lucky Driver’s heart?” she challenged. “Perhaps you’d like to refer me to the appropriate chapter in the police manual.”

      He regarded her cynically. “I didn’t think hearts were what you dealt in.”

      “I deal in whatever the job requires,” she snapped.

      “Yes, I remember. Now, can we talk practicalities? Driver is interviewing women СКАЧАТЬ