"I know better than to ask what, but something's gone wrong," she said. I grinned at her.
"Not here," I said. "Let's get lost." She nodded and she was naked in my arms in moments and we got lost, the whole damned night, lost in the pleasures of feeling and not thinking, of the body over the mind, of the present over the future. It was a nice way and a nice place in which to get lost, and Sherry was as eager as I was.
II
I left Sherry half-awake in bed, murmuring for me to stay. "Can't, darling, I said in her ear. Her soft breasts were outside the sheet and I covered her up. She pulled the sheet down again without opening her eyes. "Still no go, doll," I chuckled. I brushed her body with my lips and left her grumbling. I'd checked out Wilhelmina, the 9mm Luger in the shoulder holster under my jacket, and I'd strapped Hugo, the pencil-thin stiletto, in its leather sheath on my forearm. Pressure at the right spot and the tempered steel blade dropped into my palm, silently, deadly.
I paused in the study downstairs and called Hawk. He was still harried, a man juggling more than he could safely handle. He told me they'd confiscated the only copy of the speech Carlsbad had sent to the symposium chairman to have read for him.
"It was rambling, threatening in vague ways," the Chief said. "It had Dr. Cook, the chairman, thoroughly confused and he was happy to see us take it off his hands."
"I'm on my way now to see the niece," I said.
"She's in scientific research herself, Nick," Hawk told me. "The two men watching the front and back of the house are FBI, I'm in walkie-talkie contact with them. I'll tell them you're on your way."
I was about to hang up when he spoke again. "And Nick, bear down. Time is short."
I went outside to the little blue Cougar parked near the Nestor house. I drove to the edge of Washington proper and found the Carlsbad house in the run-down area, the last house on a long street. A thick wall of woods was about twenty yards behind the house and there was heavy shrubbery in a vacant lot across the street from it. The house itself was run-down and decrepit-looking. I was frankly surprised. After all, Carlsbad wasn't drawing peanuts in his position as Director of the Cumberland Operation. Certainly he could afford something better than this.
I parked and walked to the weathered, cracked door and rang the bell. My next surprise was the girl who answered the door. I saw china-blue eyes, big and round, under a shock of short, brown hair set in a round, saucy face with a pert nose and full lips. A blue jersey blouse, almost the color of her eyes, tightened itself over full, upturned, thrusting breasts and a deep blue miniskirt revealed young, smoothly firm legs. Rita Kenmore was, to say the least, an eye-filling bit of fluff.
"Dr. Carlsbad, please," I said. The china-blue eyes stayed the same, but in this business you learn to catch the little things, and I saw the tiny line of tension tighten in her pretty jaw. I also noted that her fist was clenched white around the doorknob.
"He's not here," she said flatly. I smiled pleasantly and moved into the house in one quick step. I flashed an identity card that she hardly had time to read. "Then I'll wait," I said. "Carter, Nick Carter."
"Dr. Carlsbad won't be back," she said nervously.
"How do you know?" I asked quickly. "Have you heard from him?"
"No, no," she said too quickly. "I don't think he'll be back, that's all."
Little Miss Blue-eyes was lying. Either that or she damned well knew what had happened and expected to hear from Carlsbad and didn't want me around when she did. My eyes scanned the room and its worn furniture. I stepped to a doorway and peered into an adjoining room, a bedroom. A woman's traveling bag was open on the bed.
"Going someplace, Miss Kenmore?" I asked. I saw her china-blue eyes flare and seem to grow smaller as she tried an indignant act.
"Get out of this house, whoever you represent," she cried. "You've no right to come in here and question me. I'll call the police."
"Go ahead," I told her, deciding to sail with it. "Your uncle's got no right to steal vital government material."
I saw some of the bluster go out of her eyes, and she moved away. From the side, her breasts turned up sharply in a saucy, piquant line. "I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped, not looking at me. I had to admit that there was absolute conviction in her voice. But then maybe she was merely a good actress, a natural feminine talent. She turned toward me, and the round, china-blue eyes were a mixture of defensive righteousness and worry.
"He hasn't done anything wrong," she said. "My uncle is a sincere, dedicated man. Whatever he does is done only to make the world listen. Somebody's got to make it listen."
"And Dr. Carlsbad is the one, eh?" I offered. She took a deep breath in an obvious effort to compose herself. It may have helped compose her but the way it thrust her breasts out against the blue blouse didn't help my composure. It was damned hard to imagine her in some stuffy laboratory.
She glared at me. "I told you I don't know anything about anything," she said. When she looked at me again her eyes were misty. "I wish you'd tell me what's happened," she said.
Suddenly I had the distinct feeling that she was telling me a half-truth at least, that Carlsbad had not really taken her into his confidence. But she was waiting for someone or something and packing to go some place. I decided not to enlighten her. This way her anxiety would stay high. It might trip her up into revealing something. I merely smiled at her, and she turned away and began pacing up and down the room. I casually folded myself into an overstuffed chair and pretended not to catch her furtive glances out the windows. Good. She was expecting people, not phone calls. Maybe even Carlsbad himself. It would be nice to wrap this one up so quickly, I mused.
"Are you a bacteriologist, too?" I asked casually. "Or can't you stop pacing long enough to answer."
She glared at me and forced herself to sit down on the sofa across from me.
"I'm in the field of sexual research," she said, keeping her voice frosted. My eyebrows shot upward. I could feel them go, and I grinned at her.
"Now that sounds like a fun topic."
Her eyes were as icy as her voice. "I've been doing work on the effects of stress, strain and anxiety on human sexual response."
I turned that one over in my mind as I grinned at her. It was a subject I could tell her a few things about.
"All interview stuff?" I asked.
"Interviews, detailed reports from selected subjects and observation, also of selected subjects." She was trying to sound terribly detached and scientific.
"Oh?" My grin widened. "That's a pretty large field — and an interesting one."
Her eyes flashed and she started to answer, then thought better of it. But the proud lift of her chin as she turned away said it all — she was a scientist with ideals and high purpose, and I was a government agent with a dirty mind.
I had my doubts about the scientific detachment of anybody, no matter how idealistic, who stood around taking notes and «observing» while people made love, but I wasn't about to argue the point She was too pretty to argue with. Besides, I was beginning to think that my presence was keeping her from making any moves. Maybe if I left, she would try to join Carlsbad, in which case I could tail her.
I turned and started for the door. Pausing, I took a piece of paper from my pocket and wrote on it before handing it to her. I wanted to make it look good.
"Don't leave town, and if you see or hear from Dr. Carlsbad, call this number," I said. She took the slip of paper without looking at it.
"I'll be back," I grinned at her, letting my eyes linger on the tips of her breasts. "For one reason or another."