Read Online Assignment — Stella Marni by Edward S. Aarons - Free Book Online

Durell drew his thumbnail across his narrow black mustache. He felt caught between two fires. He had taken a long chance in trusting that the girl would keep her promise to him. and he had lost that chance. But it might not have been Stella Marni's fault. Blossom could have ordered her away with him.
    He looked at his bag on the bed and his scattered clothes, and annoyance worked in him. pushing him back to the telephone again. He called the number of the FBI district office downtown and when he was connected he asked for Blossom. Special Agent Blossom had not checked in. He asked for Tom Markey next, and a moment later the slow, sober voice of the bald and middle-aged man replied.
    "That you. Sara?"
    "Yes." Durell's eyes were dark, without expression, as if he were sitting at a round green poker table in a game not between friends. "I've been trying to reach Blossom. I think I've got something for him and I'd like to see him. Top priority, Tom."
    "Don't steam me. Sam. I saw how you two rubbed each other. Am I stupid? I know you too well to think you've had a change of heart. So what's the pitch?"
    "No pitch. I just want to see him."
    "To swap more insults? Listen, Cajun, you stay away from Blossom. He can be dangerous. He's as good in his own way as you are in yours. I don't want to see you two tangling with each other. Why don't you go back to Washington with McFee?"
    Durell smiled into the phone with the corners of his mouth. His eyes were still without expression. "Level with me, Tom. What's the matter with Blossom? I know his record as well as he knows mine. It's a damned fine one. But he gets a queer light in him when he talks about Stella Marni."
    "Ah. hell. Forget it."
    "Is he gone on her?"
    "I guess so," Markey admitted reluctantly. There's nothing at all wrong with Harry Blossom, nothing. He's got a thing on with this girl, is all. I jerked him about it, at first, but with him it isn't a laughing matter. He's got a wire loose about her, but hell straighten out. Especially if you don't needle him too much about her and don't tangle with him right now."
    "I have to see him," Durell persisted. "Where can I reach him?" Markey said, "You're supposed to go back to D.C., Sam."
    "Later. After I've talked with Blossom."
    "You sound sore about something."'
    "I am. He tore my room apart here at the Carlton."
    "Jesus, no." Markey was shocked. "Sure it was Harry?"
    "He left his name with the desk clerk, and he didn't do that by accident. He wanted me to know it was he who searched my bag. Why?"
    "He doesn't like you."
    "Because I pushed him a little?"
    "I told you, he wants Stella Marni all for himself. So you pushed him and he's sore at you. You don't want to see him right now, Sam."
    "Where does he live?"
    "Sam, look..."
    "I can find out easily enough," Durell said. "It might take me all of ten minutes. I thought it might be simpler to ask a friend. Good night. Tom."
    "Now, wait, Sam."
    "Where does Blossom live?"
    Durell heard Markey's deep, resigned sigh. "Out to hell and gone in Brooklyn. But it's not the Brooklyn you're thinking of. This is down by the shore. He's got a house there — used to be his mother's — and he's always lived there, as far as I know. Hard by the marshes. I've been out there a few times — good boating and fishing. If you know where and how. Conley Road, Number Seven-eighty-six. But I tell you it's no good, Sam. He won't talk to you. He won't give you the time of day. This one is his baby and he's wrapping it up himself."
    "How come you fellows put up with a prima donna?" Durell asked.
    "Harry is all right. Hell be fine, once he gets this girl off his brain. Forget it. Sam. as a favor to me."
    "Thanks." Durell said. "Say hello to Bunky for me."
    He hung up.
    He knew that Markey was right. Forget it, steer clear of Blossom, stick to the other leads. Frank Greenwald had mentioned something called the New American Society. Look into it. And the coercion ring — two women, four men, Frank had said.