She was smiling wryly. "Were we too obvious? We haven't had much practice at intrigue, you know. I think Penny did rather well, don't you?"
I studied her face for a moment. I said, "With a little practice, she'll be another Mata Hari-but don't forget that lady got shot. Two people have already died on this operation. Why not let me take the kid back to papa before she gets hurt playing in a grownup game?"
Genevieve grimaced. "You're a stubborn man, Clevenger. You're still pretending to be a silly private eye. Please stop it."
I said, "I thought we decided-"
"We decided that those men back there may have been real convicts, and you may have saved us from them very bravely and skillfully. That satisfied Penny, but you and I both know that it has nothing to do with what kind of an agency you're working for, public or private. In fact, if it was a real fight, and you're so good you can take on two desperate criminals practically barehanded and dispose of them without even breathing hard, then you're too good to be working for some cheap little Denver detective bureau, Mr. Clevenger or whatever your name is. No matter how you slice it, it comes up stamped U.S."
"Your flattering estimate of government men might surprise a few people," I said. "And in that case, why the humble apology and the free meal?"
"Because I still need help," she said. "Or maybe I should say that I need help again, very badly, and again you're the only man I can turn to. I don't care who you're working for. If you're a government man, you may even be able to talk me into giving your lousy scientific papers back, but first you have to do something for me."
It was a real swifty. The last thing I wanted was to be handed Dr. Drilling's papers: they had to be delivered by her and Ruyter.
I said, "Take the proposition to Johnston and his sidekick, ma'am. They'll snap at it. Me, I'm not being paid to hunt secret documents, any more than escaped convicts. My experience is that any private character who gets mixed up with stuff like that, winds up in trouble, even if he's trying to be helpful. Johnston and Fenton are the names. You've undoubtedly seen them along the road. If you want, I'll bring them around for a conference."
She shook her head impatiently. "Oh, why don't you stop that stupid pretense… I couldn't talk to those two clowns and you know it."
I said, "Johnston's no clown. I won't say as much for his partner, but Johnston's a smart operative, don't kid yourself."
"Just the same, he wouldn't deal. I know the type. He'd make no concessions. He'd just start waving the flag and telling me about my patriotic duty, in between threats."
I gave her a quick glance. "And you think I'm a government man but you think I won't? You think I'll deal? How will I deal?"
She hesitated and looked down at her green drink. "I think you're a smart man, Mr. Clevenger."
"Sure," I said. "Thanks. What does that mean?"
She said slowly, "I told you my father was a fairly successful contractor. I think you're a smart man, and I know I'm a fairly rich woman, and… and not too unattractive, I hope."
There was a little silence. I said, "Let's not be so damn subtle, Jenny O'Brien. Are you trying to bribe me, or seduce me, or both?"
She looked up. and smiled. "Well, what's your weakness, Dave, money or sex?"
I drew a long breath and said, "I always thought money was a highly overrated commodity, ma'am."
XIV
LEAVING THE elevator, we walked down the hall, passing the door to Jenny's room. I had to start thinking of her as Jenny now. It wasn't possible to consider playing a seduction scene with a woman with the cold and formal name of Genevieve.
She didn't say anything about checking to see if her daughter had made it safely. I guess she felt it was no time to act motherly; besides, a fifteen-year-old girl wasn't likely to get lost between lobby and hotel room. We stopped at my door. Jenny put a hand on my arm.
"Dave." Her voice sounded hesitant.
"What?"
"You're going to have… to give me the cues. I haven't had much experience at this sort of thing."
I glanced at her sharply, a little disappointed in her. I don't mean that I'd been taking her proposition at face value: I hadn't. It was fairly obvious that she had something tricky in mind, whether or not it actually involved a bed. I couldn't legitimately complain about that. We were all being pretty tricky on this job. I just didn't like being treated as if I were a moron who'd swallow anything. That innocent-little-me line, from a woman her age with her record, was getting us pretty far out into the cornfield, I felt.
Surprisingly, I saw that, for all of being a married woman with a teenage daughter-not to mention all the other things she probably was-she did look kind of innocent. I don't mean the fragile, helpless, frightened kind of innocence. She looked like a healthy, freckled, tomboy who'd finally been run down and put into shoes and a pretty dress, and who thought it was kind of crazy, but was perfectly willing to give womanhood a whirl if somebody'd just show her how. It bothered me. She kept stepping out of character
– the character my evidence said she ought to have, the character the acid bottle in her trailer said she ought to have.
"I mean," she went on, "I've never seduced anybody before. You'll have to show me how it goes."
Well, it was a moderately fresh angle from which to attack an ancient situation. I guess it beat the sultry-siren routine at that. I unlocked the door, opened it, and reached inside to switch on the room light before speaking.
Then I said, "I seem to recall hearing your name linked with that of a man once. A man named Ruyter. Probably a vicious slander."
She glanced at my sarcasm, hesitated, but walked on past me without making a response. I followed her inside and closed the door. She turned to face me in the center of the room.
"I didn't say I was a Virgin, Dave."
"So?"
"So I'm married, I've had a child, and maybe I've even slept with a man who wasn't my husband. A man who was charming and attentive and very, very persistent. Maybe I was even silly enough to believe, at first, that his persistence was due to my irresistible beauty and fascinating personality." Her tone was wry. After a moment she went on: "And maybe one night when my husband was supposed to take me out and I'd got all dressed up only to get the usual last-minute call from the lab-Howard didn't even bother to call himself, he had his assistant do it-maybe I just got good and mad and called up Hans and let him buy me an expensive dinner and lure me to his place afterwards." She was silent; then she looked up almost shyly and said, "That isn't quite the same, Dave, as cold-bloodedly arranging to spend the night with a man I hardly know and don't trust at all."
"Thanks," I said.
"Well, I don't trust you and I'm not going to pretend I do. I'm quite sure, for instance, that you're here not only because a woman has made you a proposition you find moderately intriguing, but also because you feel it your duty to your government-all right, your employers, let's not argue about who they are-to learn what's behind her offer." She studied me shrewdly. I didn't say anything. She sighed and said, "Not that I ever had a great deal of faith in Hans, either, but don't tell him that. Of course I pretended to be madly in love with him. It made the whole thing seem more dignified and graceful, and you don't tell a reasonably nice man-well, I thought he was reasonably nice at the time; an obvious, international-type smoothie, but a nice smoothie-that you're just sleeping with him because he's available and you're mad at your husband."
I said, "For not having much faith in this international smoothie, you're sure going a long way with him now. Could this have something to do with what you need help with?"
"It could, but let's not talk about it yet," she said. "I mean, it isn't very romantic. Right now I'm supposed to be overwhelming you with my charm, not boring you with my troubles." She hesitated. "Dave."