Read Online Two Much! by Donald E. Westlake - Free Book Online

took the card, but kept my eyes on its owner. “How do you do?”
    â€œI am,” he said, with the smile of a bone-grinder, “the attorney for the Kerner estate.”
    I sensed Gloria’s ears cocking like a collie’s at the phrase Kerner estate . Kerner had been the name of the girl two days ago, Bart was the person that girl had been looking for, and the word estate was well within Gloria’s vocabulary. “Why don’t we go into my office?” I said.
    â€œThank you very much.”
    And so we entered the office. I gestured to my guest chair, but Volpinex took a moment instead to read the cards mounted on my wall, so I sat at my desk and leafed through the call memos. Wastebasket wastebasket wastebasket …
    I had transferred to the incoming mail and had discovered, to my pleased surprise, an actual amended statement and supplemental check from All-Boro, when Volpinex falsely chuckled, turning to face me, and said, “Very amusing.”
    â€œI keep them around to lighten my darker moments,” I said. “Do have a chair.”
    â€œThank you.”
    I didn’t care for the way he made himself at home in that chair, settling in as though he’d just foreclosed on a mortgage I hadn’t known about. He said, “May I smoke?”
    You can fry. “Certainly.”
    He had a silver cigarette case and a black holder. The case was also a lighter at one end. If he hadn’t used those two magic names Bart and Kerner I would have considered him some sort of overdone buffoon; as it was I watched him with respect, if not admiration.
    Satisfied at last with his cigarette, he said, “We’ve been neighbors, you know.”
    What? “Have we?”
    â€œYou were staying for a while in Fair Harbor, and I’ve rented a place in Dunewood.”
    â€œAh.” Ah hah! With sudden conviction, I knew that this was my host at the party where I’d first met Liz. And wouldn’t he also be the fellow she was with last weekend, while I was Barting Betty? Which was why Liz had suddenly showed up on that part of the beach.
    And to think she’d been putting me down for my connection with Candy.
    â€œYou were staying,” my saturnine friend continued, “with Mr. and Mrs. Ralph Minck, were you not?”
    â€œThat’s right,” I said.
    â€œAnd so was your brother, known as Bart Would that stand for Bartholomew, by the way?”
    â€œNo, actually his name is Robert. We were named after two famous World War One flying aces, Arthur Powerton and Robert Godunkey. But because we’re twins and so on, I suppose the name just evolved into Bart.”
    â€œAh,” he said. “That’s probably why I haven’t been able to pick up much about him.”
    I permitted myself to look just slightly outraged. “Pick up?”
    â€œI have a passion for being fair,” he said, unruffled, smiling at me. “And I just don’t believe it’s possible to be fair if one isn’t thorough. Don’t you agree?”
    â€œYou’ve been checking up on my brother?”
    â€œAnd yourself,” he assured me. “And your—” his gesture around at my office was condescending “—company. And even your hosts in Fair Harbor.”
    â€œMy hosts?” What in hell was he after?
    â€œRalph Minck,” he said. “Attorney, employed by a large firm downtown. Specialist in stock issue flotation and presentations to the SEC.”
    And recently promoted to a level where he could bring his paper work home. I said, “I don’t quite follow what you’re doing, Mr.…”
    â€œVolpinex. I believe I gave you my card.”
    â€œYes, you did. Now what do you want me to give you ?”
    â€œQuite simply,” he said, “your assurance that neither your brother nor yourself is a fortune hunter.”
    I leaned forward over the desk, my forearms on my scattered mail. “Mr.