Read Online Tanner's Virgin by Lawrence Block - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Lawrence Block
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though. I crouched on the sill, tensed myself to avoid a flowerbed, and dropped ten or twelve feet to the ground. I landed on my feet, which was not surprising, and I stayed on them, which was. Then I headed down the narrow alley to the street behind.
It was still raining. I made my way around the block, solemnly cursing Nigel for not having had the common decency to sleep another half hour. Of course, I thought, the doorbell would have awakened him in any event, but by then we might have at least finished.
I plodded dutifully through the rain. All things come round to him who will wait, I comforted myself. Nigel Stokes was going to give a matinee performance that afternoon, and so would his sister and I, and this time we wouldnât have an audience.
At the final corner, I stopped and drew a long breath. I needed some sort of story, obviously. I couldnât very well say Iâd been out to get a morning paper, or Nigel might well ask why I hadnât brought it back with me. He might also wonder why Iâd gone off without my jacket or umbrella. I thought for a moment and decided to tell him Iâd spent the past few hours at an all-night café in Piccadilly. It had been clear when I left, I would say, and he could chide me for being a foolish American who didnât know that one had to carry a brollie rain or shine, since rain was always a danger, and I could laugh along with him, andâ
And I rounded the corner, and the street was cluttered with police cars, and half the policemen in London were beating a path to Nigelâs door.
Chapter 5
I looked at all those policemen, and I turned around and walked back around the corner. It never occurred to me to wonder why they were there. I certainly hadnât expected them, but it was patently obvious that they had come for me, and that it was more than illegal entry that had brought them. I walked quietly round the corner and down the street and around another corner, and although it went right on raining I was no longer bothered by it. There but for the grace of coitus interruptus, thought I, go I, down the drain.
I offered a silent prayer of gratitude for Nigelâs early rising and Juliaâs modesty. A brief prayer. After all, it was only decent that something went right for a change, and on balance I was still far behind. I was coatless and brollieless and wanted for murder by the most efficient police force in the free world. And I couldnât turn myself in and try to prove my innocence because I didnât happen to be innocent.
How much did they know? It was important to find this out before I did anything, and it was also important to get as far from London as possible before they spread the alarm. If they knew no more about me than that I had been a guest of Nigel and Julia Stokes, then Icould leave the country more or less as planned. If they knew my name and had a picture of me, then the plans were useless. And new ones called for.
I took a bus to Portsmouth some seventy miles southwest of London. The trip took two hours and I spent them both with my face hidden in a morning newspaper. There was nothing in the paper about me or Mr. Hyphen. In Portsmouth I ate eggs and chips at a horrible café and went to a movie house. I saw the last half of an old Doris Day movie, a short on lobster trapping, a UPA cartoon, a slew of commercials, coming attractions for something, and the first half of the Doris Day movie. I stayed and saw the last half over a second time in the hope that they would change the ending this time through and let Rock Hudson lay her, but they didnât and he didnât. After my experiences with Phaedra and Julia, I was left with the feeling that the movie was true to life.
I went to another café and had steak and chips and some very bitter coffee, then found another cinema and saw an Italian thing in which everyone laid everyone else but no one enjoyed it much. Least of all the audience. When it ended I
It was still raining. I made my way around the block, solemnly cursing Nigel for not having had the common decency to sleep another half hour. Of course, I thought, the doorbell would have awakened him in any event, but by then we might have at least finished.
I plodded dutifully through the rain. All things come round to him who will wait, I comforted myself. Nigel Stokes was going to give a matinee performance that afternoon, and so would his sister and I, and this time we wouldnât have an audience.
At the final corner, I stopped and drew a long breath. I needed some sort of story, obviously. I couldnât very well say Iâd been out to get a morning paper, or Nigel might well ask why I hadnât brought it back with me. He might also wonder why Iâd gone off without my jacket or umbrella. I thought for a moment and decided to tell him Iâd spent the past few hours at an all-night café in Piccadilly. It had been clear when I left, I would say, and he could chide me for being a foolish American who didnât know that one had to carry a brollie rain or shine, since rain was always a danger, and I could laugh along with him, andâ
And I rounded the corner, and the street was cluttered with police cars, and half the policemen in London were beating a path to Nigelâs door.
Chapter 5
I looked at all those policemen, and I turned around and walked back around the corner. It never occurred to me to wonder why they were there. I certainly hadnât expected them, but it was patently obvious that they had come for me, and that it was more than illegal entry that had brought them. I walked quietly round the corner and down the street and around another corner, and although it went right on raining I was no longer bothered by it. There but for the grace of coitus interruptus, thought I, go I, down the drain.
I offered a silent prayer of gratitude for Nigelâs early rising and Juliaâs modesty. A brief prayer. After all, it was only decent that something went right for a change, and on balance I was still far behind. I was coatless and brollieless and wanted for murder by the most efficient police force in the free world. And I couldnât turn myself in and try to prove my innocence because I didnât happen to be innocent.
How much did they know? It was important to find this out before I did anything, and it was also important to get as far from London as possible before they spread the alarm. If they knew no more about me than that I had been a guest of Nigel and Julia Stokes, then Icould leave the country more or less as planned. If they knew my name and had a picture of me, then the plans were useless. And new ones called for.
I took a bus to Portsmouth some seventy miles southwest of London. The trip took two hours and I spent them both with my face hidden in a morning newspaper. There was nothing in the paper about me or Mr. Hyphen. In Portsmouth I ate eggs and chips at a horrible café and went to a movie house. I saw the last half of an old Doris Day movie, a short on lobster trapping, a UPA cartoon, a slew of commercials, coming attractions for something, and the first half of the Doris Day movie. I stayed and saw the last half over a second time in the hope that they would change the ending this time through and let Rock Hudson lay her, but they didnât and he didnât. After my experiences with Phaedra and Julia, I was left with the feeling that the movie was true to life.
I went to another café and had steak and chips and some very bitter coffee, then found another cinema and saw an Italian thing in which everyone laid everyone else but no one enjoyed it much. Least of all the audience. When it ended I
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