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

kind of thing.” Then my eye passed over my other unwelcome visitor, I suddenly remembered an odd incident from Charlie Hillerman’s past, and I said, “No, wait. Tell him I’ll be with him in just a minute.”
    â€œAnd give him a heart attack? Commit your own murders.”
    She left, and I went back to Volpinex. Now that I understood him, he didn’t worry me any more. “You didn’t come here,” I said, “to find out if I’m a fortune hunter. Or my brother, him, too, if he was. You came here to find out if we’re competition. And let me tell you something right now: we are. Both of us.”
    The pursed look remained on his face, but he got his ass out of my chair. “In your childhood,” he said, looking down across the desk at me, “you should have heeded your elders’ advice, when they warned you against judging others by yourself. I assure you, I will do everything in my rather considerable power to rescue those young ladies from you and your brother.”
    Straight out of a Victorian novel, but didn’t he know he was lying? His parents must have kept him locked away in a dusty attic throughout his childhood (and who could blame them), where he had bided his time with the works of Harriet Beecher Stowe and Mrs. Humphry Ward.
    But melodrama is contagious. Leaping up, driven to my feet by the force of the scene I was playing, and just for that moment meaning every ridiculous word I said, I said, “Speaking for my brother, Mr. Volpinex, and believe me I think I know my brother’s heart, I’m telling you right now that all grasping attorneys and other vultures hovering over the Kerner inheritance had better watch their step pret-ty carefully, because Liz and Betty, in their hour of need and travail, have found their heroes at last! And good day to you, sir!”

    W HEN C HARLIE H ILLER man came bulging in, after the slithering departure of Volpinex, I was hurriedly but calmly writing a check. “Okay Art,” Charlie announced, coming over to lean over my desk and show me his biceps, “I figured it out you’re always in town on Wednesday, and I’m here to tell—”
    â€œHere you are, Charlie.”
    He took the check, and glared at it. “If you think you can fob me off with another partial pay—” He stopped, dead, and stared at the check.
    â€œNot at all, Charlie,” I said. “That’s payment in full.”
    He sank into the chair lately defiled by Volpinex. “Holy God,” he said. “Who do I kill?”
    â€œJust the reverse,” I said.
    He frowned at me, his natural suspicion returning. Snapping the check with his finger, he said, “Is this any good?”
    â€œOf course it is. Charlie, you remember telling me about the time you did the dollar-bill card for F&A?”
    â€œSure. ‘If you want to sleep here, George, you’ll need ten of those.’ What about it?”
    â€œYou did such a good job the Treasury people came around,” I reminded him. “F&A couldn’t distribute.”
    He nodded, sulky at the memory. “And I never got paid.”
    â€œThat’s what you get for dealing for a schlock outfit, Charlie. Stick with me and you’ll be okay.”
    â€œHuh,” he said.
    â€œThe point is,” I said, “I’ve got a Birthday you’re perfect for.”
    His natural truculence was creased by a pleat of curiosity. “What is it?”
    â€œI understand when you were born—three wise men left town.”
    â€œNot bad,” he said.
    â€œIt’s encouragement like that keeps me going, Charlie.”
    â€œWhat’s the picture?”
    â€œThe card is a photostat of a birth certificate.”
    He frowned, not seeing it; in truth, it wasn’t a very good idea. “Yeah?” he said.
    From the bottom left drawer of my desk I took the photostat of my birth certificate I’d sent for when I