Read Online Windmills of the Gods by Sidney Sheldon - Free Book Online
Authors: Sidney Sheldon
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million-dollar reward.
When Harry Lantz met Neusa Muñez late that evening, he immediately ordered a double rum for her and said, happily, “Everything’s set. I got permission.”
She looked at him indifferently. “Yeah?”
He told her the name of his employer. It was a household word, and he expected her to be impressed.
She shrugged. “Never hearda him.”
“Neusa, the people I work for want this done as quickly as possible. Marin Groza is hiding out in a villa in Neuilly, and—”
“Where?”
God Almighty! He was trying to communicate with a drunken moron. He said patiently, “It’s a little town outside of Paris. Angel will know.”
“I need ‘nother drink.”
An hour later, Neusa was still drinking. and this time Harry Lantz was encouraging her. Not that she needs much encouragement, Lantz thought. When she’s drunk enough, she’s going to lead me to her boyfriend. The rest will be easy.
He looked over at Neusa Muñez staring filmy-eyed into her drink.
It shouldn’t be hard to catch Angel. He may be tough, but he can’t be very bright. “When is Angel coming back to town?”
She focused her watery eyes on him. “Nex’ week.”
Harry Lantz took her hand and stroked it. “Why don’t you and I go back to your place?” he asked softly.
“Okay.”
He was in.
Neusa Muñez lived in a shabby two-room apartment in the Belgrano district of Buenos Aires. The apartment was messy and unkempt, like its tenant. When they walked through the door, Neusa made straight for the little bar in the corner. She was unsteady on her feet.
“How ‘bout a drink?”
“Not for me,” Lantz said. “You go ahead.” He watched as she poured out a drink and downed it. She’s the most ugly, repulsive bitch I’ve ever met, he thought, but the million dollars is going to be beautiful.
He looked around the apartment. There were some books piled on a coffee table. He picked them up, one by one, hopingto get an insight into Angel’s mind. The titles surprised him: Gabriela, Clove & Cinnamon, by Jorge Amado; Fire from the Mountain, by Omar Cabezas; One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel García Marquez; At Night the Cats, by Antonio Cisneros. So Angel was an intellectual. The books did not fit with the apartment or the woman.
Lantz walked over to her and put his arms around her huge, flabby waist. “You’re damned cute, do you know that?” He reached up and stroked her breasts. They were the size of watermelons. Lantz hated big-breasted women. “You’ve got a really great body.”
“Huh?” Her eyes were glazed.
Lantz’s arms moved down and stroked her fat thighs through the thin cotton dress she wore. “How does that feel?” he whispered.
“Wha’?”
He was getting nowhere. He had to think of an approach that would get this amazon into bed. But he knew he had to make his move carefully. If he offended her, she might go back and report him to Angel, and that would be the end of the deal. He could try to sweet-talk her, but she was too drunk to know what he was saying.
As Lantz was desperately trying to think of a clever gambit, Neusa mumbled, “Wanna fuck?”
He grinned in relief. “That’s a great idea, baby.”
“Come on ‘n the bedroom.”
She was stumbling as Lantz followed her into the small bedroom. It contained one closet with the door ajar, a large unmade bed, two chairs, and a bureau with a cracked mirror above it. It was the closet that caught Harry Lantz’s attention. In it he glimpsed a row of men’s suits hanging on a rack.
Neusa was at the side of the bed, fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. Under ordinary circumstances, Harry Lantz would have been at her side, undressing her, caressing her body and murmuring exciting indecencies into her ear.But the sight of Muñez sickened him. He stood there watching as her skirt dropped to the floor. She was wearing nothing under it. Naked, she was uglier than when dressed. Her huge breasts sagged, and her protruding stomach
When Harry Lantz met Neusa Muñez late that evening, he immediately ordered a double rum for her and said, happily, “Everything’s set. I got permission.”
She looked at him indifferently. “Yeah?”
He told her the name of his employer. It was a household word, and he expected her to be impressed.
She shrugged. “Never hearda him.”
“Neusa, the people I work for want this done as quickly as possible. Marin Groza is hiding out in a villa in Neuilly, and—”
“Where?”
God Almighty! He was trying to communicate with a drunken moron. He said patiently, “It’s a little town outside of Paris. Angel will know.”
“I need ‘nother drink.”
An hour later, Neusa was still drinking. and this time Harry Lantz was encouraging her. Not that she needs much encouragement, Lantz thought. When she’s drunk enough, she’s going to lead me to her boyfriend. The rest will be easy.
He looked over at Neusa Muñez staring filmy-eyed into her drink.
It shouldn’t be hard to catch Angel. He may be tough, but he can’t be very bright. “When is Angel coming back to town?”
She focused her watery eyes on him. “Nex’ week.”
Harry Lantz took her hand and stroked it. “Why don’t you and I go back to your place?” he asked softly.
“Okay.”
He was in.
Neusa Muñez lived in a shabby two-room apartment in the Belgrano district of Buenos Aires. The apartment was messy and unkempt, like its tenant. When they walked through the door, Neusa made straight for the little bar in the corner. She was unsteady on her feet.
“How ‘bout a drink?”
“Not for me,” Lantz said. “You go ahead.” He watched as she poured out a drink and downed it. She’s the most ugly, repulsive bitch I’ve ever met, he thought, but the million dollars is going to be beautiful.
He looked around the apartment. There were some books piled on a coffee table. He picked them up, one by one, hopingto get an insight into Angel’s mind. The titles surprised him: Gabriela, Clove & Cinnamon, by Jorge Amado; Fire from the Mountain, by Omar Cabezas; One Hundred Years of Solitude, by Gabriel García Marquez; At Night the Cats, by Antonio Cisneros. So Angel was an intellectual. The books did not fit with the apartment or the woman.
Lantz walked over to her and put his arms around her huge, flabby waist. “You’re damned cute, do you know that?” He reached up and stroked her breasts. They were the size of watermelons. Lantz hated big-breasted women. “You’ve got a really great body.”
“Huh?” Her eyes were glazed.
Lantz’s arms moved down and stroked her fat thighs through the thin cotton dress she wore. “How does that feel?” he whispered.
“Wha’?”
He was getting nowhere. He had to think of an approach that would get this amazon into bed. But he knew he had to make his move carefully. If he offended her, she might go back and report him to Angel, and that would be the end of the deal. He could try to sweet-talk her, but she was too drunk to know what he was saying.
As Lantz was desperately trying to think of a clever gambit, Neusa mumbled, “Wanna fuck?”
He grinned in relief. “That’s a great idea, baby.”
“Come on ‘n the bedroom.”
She was stumbling as Lantz followed her into the small bedroom. It contained one closet with the door ajar, a large unmade bed, two chairs, and a bureau with a cracked mirror above it. It was the closet that caught Harry Lantz’s attention. In it he glimpsed a row of men’s suits hanging on a rack.
Neusa was at the side of the bed, fumbling with the buttons on her blouse. Under ordinary circumstances, Harry Lantz would have been at her side, undressing her, caressing her body and murmuring exciting indecencies into her ear.But the sight of Muñez sickened him. He stood there watching as her skirt dropped to the floor. She was wearing nothing under it. Naked, she was uglier than when dressed. Her huge breasts sagged, and her protruding stomach
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