“And the final deal?”
“Three million dollars in cash was deposited in a bank in escrow. On Kurt’s death the three million becomes mine. The trust is irrevocable except for one condition — if I divorce him. Otherwise, he can’t touch it.”
“Suppose he divorces you?”
“The trust stands. I insisted on that, and he agreed. He wanted to own me in the worst way.”
“He got his wish, didn’t he?” said Harry. “Maybe he’s not as smart as he has everybody thinking. Was Tony Mitchell your lawyer?” he asked suddenly.
Karen stretched in a lazy-cat way, and laughed. “Now don’t be a complete dope, Doctor. Tony Mitchell was his lawyer.”
“And yours?”
“No one remotely connected with Kurt Gresham, I assure you. I was very careful about that. I retained a top attorney and, after the agreement was all drawn up, I secretly double-checked with another top man.”
Harry shook his head. “You’re quite a woman, Karen. So when Kurt dies, you come into three million dollars, do you?”
“Oh, more than that, lover. I’d get the widow’s mighty mite by law, and then, of course, there’d be his will. I don’t know what’s in it, but I could conceivably come into everything.”
“And how much would that be?”
“Oh, fabulous scads,” she said dreamily. “Who knows?” She raised her glass and sipped, and over its brim her green eyes flicked at him like a whip. “But I’d settle for the three million, the way I feel right now.”
A queer little chill ran down Dr. Harrison Brown’s back. “I thought you said you couldn’t get the three million unless he died.”
“That’s right,” said Karen. Then she said softly, “Lover.”
It seemed to Dr. Harrison Brown that the room was baking over an invisible fire.
“What do you mean?” he asked in a croak.
She murmured, “What you’re thinking I mean.”
“You mean... you wish he were dead?”
“I wish he were dead. Yes, Harry. How’s his heart?”
“Pumping,” he said. “Karen.”
“Yes, darling?”
“If you were free... would you marry me?”
“Yes. Yes.”
He was silent. She was silent. They drank. They smoked.
Karen got off the bed and went into the bathroom and he heard her washing. She came back with a wet towel and, wiping his face tenderly, kissed his damp forehead. Then she took his glass and freshened their drinks and went back to the bed. It squeaked. “Now we come to you,” she said.
“Me,” he said. “Yes. What about me?”
“You’re in,” she said. “And you don’t belong. I feel sorry for you.”
“In what?” he said.
“Already you’re afraid to talk, even to me.”
“In what?” he said.
“One word will do the job.”
“Say the word.”
“Heroin.”
“I’m in,” he said. “Is Tony?”
“I don’t know.”
He grinned. “Oh, come on.”
“I tell you I don’t. If Kurt propositioned him, Tony’s in. Otherwise, he’s only Kurt’s lawyer on legitimate stuff.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that once Kurt makes up his mind to proposition you, you’re either in, or you’re dead.” She drank and wiped her face with the towel and hung it around her neck.
“How did you know about me?” Harry grunted.
“I asked Kurt.”
“How come?”
“Lynne Maxwell.”
The name was like a cold shower. But on a cold day. “Yes?” Harry said. His skin was actually pimpling.
“When Tony got Lieutenant Galivan to spill the story, I mean when Galivan was checking your alibi, I immediately recognized the fine Italian-or-whatever-the-hell-it-is hand of my dear husband. You see, I knew Lynne Maxwell.”
“You knew her?” he cried.
“I’m still part of the screening apparatus, darling,” Karen smiled. “Especially valuable now that I move in exalted circles as Mrs. Kurt Gresham of Park Avenue. I did the prospective-client screening on Lynne Maxwell. Undercover Gal, that’s me. When Lynne was found dead in your apartment, I knew Kurt had selected his New York medical replacement for old Doc Welliver. That’s the way my husband works. I asked him, and he told me.”
“And you mean to say that if I’d turned him down—”
“Harry dear, you are sweet. He’d opened up to you, hadn’t he? Could he afford to let you say no and walk out on him? How do you think Kurt’s been able to keep his operation secret for so many years? But I gather that in your case he wasn’t taking much of a chance.”
“I still find it hard to believe,” Harry said. “So damned melodramatic. Or are you pulling my leg?”
“I wish I were.” She sat up on the bed and unhooked her brassiere and flung it away. She walked over to him and stooped over his chair and kissed him. His lips were cold and she slipped onto his lap and drew his head down to her. “He didn’t tell you about his liquidation department, did he? Or maybe he did and you didn’t’ believe him. It’s permanently staffed with experts, and I mean experts. If Kurt decides you’re dangerous, you have the damnedest accident. You slip in the tub and break your neck, or you get a dizzy spell and fall off a subway platform just as the express is coming in, or you’re found in Central Park dead from a mugging, with your cash missing, or you step in front of a truck, or you take an overdose of sleeping pills with the clear evidence that you’re deeply in debt, or... oh, I can’t think of all the ways you can die without the nasty word ‘murder’ coming into it. I can’t, but Kurt’s liquidation department can.” She put her palms on his face and pulled it back from her moist fragrant body and said, “Now I want you to kiss me.”
“I want to talk.”
“We’ve got all night to talk,” she murmured. “We’re finally touching, Harry, finally making contact. It’s... exciting. It’s so exciting. Harry, kiss me. Take me.”
He kissed her. He took her.
Ten
Later, side by side in the darkness, they talked.
“He’d have killed me, would he?” Harry muttered.
“You’re sweet. Violent yourself, capable of violence, but sweet, darling. Harry, get this through your head. Move wrong, talk wrong, smell wrong, and Kurt’s specialists dispose of you. What’s more, you can’t get out. You’re in for the rest of your life.”
“What about Dr. Welliver? He’s getting out, isn’t he?”
“No. He just thinks he is. He’s still under all the old restraints. If he doesn’t know that, he won’t live long enough to realize it. Incidentally, I don’t think he’s half as feeble as he makes out. I think old Doc Welliver has put on an act for some time, maneuvering for retirement.”
“Sick of the whole thing after all these years?”
“You are an innocent, aren’t you? No, because I think he thinks a crack has developed in the operation and he wants to get out from under before the whole thing comes crashing down. And you know what, Harry dearest? I think doc’s got something. And you know another thing, my hairy baby? I think so does Kurt.”
“What do you mean?”
Karen was silent. Then he felt her shoulder, snugged against his, twitch in a shrug. “I’ve gone this far, I may as well go the whole route. Harry, do you have any idea where Kurt goes every Monday, Wednesday, Friday and Sunday evening?”
“How the hell should I know? He hasn’t told me much inside stuff. I don’t even know how much of it is true. I’ve caught him in one lie already.”
“What’s that?”
“He told me you’re his wife, period. That you know nothing about the dope operation.”
She laughed. “Four nights a week he goes to the Starhurst.”