She found my eyes with hers. “Supposing he did have an illegal operation going somewhere, then the possibility of his having been killed would be increased, correct?”
I nodded noncommittally.
“And there’s a possibility that he would have left some record of a sort.”
I nodded again.
“If I could see his papers... or whatever effects he left... I might be able to come up with a story.” She paused and gave an impatient toss of her head. Hair swirled across her shoulders like a golden wave. “You inherit his property. You could let me do this. Will you?”
“Maybe,” I said. “What’ll you give me?”
Her eyebrows raised. “What... do you want?”
“Try me and see.”
For three full seconds she stood there, a curious smile toying with the edges of her mouth. Then her hands went to the buttons of her jacket and flipped them open. She dropped it to the floor, then did the same thing to her blouse. There was another minute pause before her fingers went to the hooks of the brassiere at her back. With a motion of her shoulders, she let it slip down her arms, dangled it a moment in her fingers, then dropped that, too.
The smile was gone now. In its place there was an intense, sultry look she couldn’t conceal. Her breasts were magnificently full, seeming to pulsate with pressure that wanted to burst through the taut red nipples. Her breath was jerky and a shudder went through her shoulders to twist down into the supple, trim waist that flowed into her skirt.
I hadn’t moved. I just watched her. It was something she had never done before and showed it, and the doing had turned her into a person she had tried hard to conceal. She swayed toward me and in another moment would have taken the step that would put her inside my reach. Already I could see her hand groping, feeling for the zipper at her side.
I got up quickly, walked to the door and turned around. “Nice act, Lois, but you’ll never make the big time.”
It was as if I had belted her. The longing disappeared and for a moment there was a hint of fear, then something else.
“Lois?” she said.
“We’ve met before, baby. You didn’t get what you came after then, either.”
Chapter 3
From the air the runway system of Tuck’s airport was shaped like a capital K, and that’s how it got its name. It was built during the war as an auxiliary to nearby Martin AAFB, but not enough B-24s or 17s put down there to cave in the runways so it was in top shape. Tuck had erected a fine operations building, attached a lounge and restaurant, added a motel unit and a group of specialty shops built around a generous swimming pool. There was a golf course bordering the south edge of the field, several tennis courts, an adjacent highway and, at the far end of the field, away from the social center, the hangar area. Not a very military setup, but a profitable deal in these days of fly-in vacations. At night, each burning light read like a dollar sign. The motel units were filled, maintenance and repair was going on around the clock in the hangars, and overhead was the sporadic drone of light planes coming into the pattern.
At 9 o’clock I got one of the kids who drove the caddy cars to take me to the hangars. Tuck had had his office there, where he liked it best... in the middle of engines and airframes. Sam Devin, Tuck’s attorney, would have preferred his own office, but he was looking to please what might mean a new account, so he came where I asked him to.
Sam was a short, wiry guy with a grey crew-cut. He was probably pushing sixty but moved like thirty. His eyes gave him away. They had seen the inside of too many courtrooms and too much misery. We shook hands briefly, and Sam said, “Charlie Traub will be here in just a minute. Mind waiting?”
I said no, poured myself a beer from the cooler in the corner and sat down. Charlie Traub came in like a little fox terrier, introduced himself to me on the way to the cooler and pulled up a chair.
In one way he was like Sam. He had the stamp of the old-time flier all over him, from his stained white coveralls to the wrench scars on his knuckles. They were both about the same age until you read their eyes. There was still a lot of life left in Charlie’s.
Sam spread his papers out on the desk. “Ready?”
Both of us nodded.
“Fine.” He picked up the top sheet, glanced at it briefly and put it down. “Tucker’s will provides for two persons. Charlie Traub here gets twenty thousand in cash, three airplanes specified here and a five percent participation in the profits of the Capital K. He is to remain here in his present position for one year before he can be fired.”
“And to Cat Fallon here goes the entire rest of Tucker’s estate. I haven’t had time to itemize the assets, but to give you an idea, I’d say the cash value of his properties is about a million. On deposit is some two hundred thousand dollars.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Just a personal letter to you, Mr. Fallon.” Sam fingered an envelope and handed it across the desk to me. It was sealed and the note inside was undated. From what it said, it seemed neither important nor cryptic.
Dear Cat: Keep things going for me. There aren’t too many of us left. A few maybe, but not many. Like Verdo and Cristy. Have fun. Don’t choke on a banana.
I felt myself frowning at the note the second time I read it. Who the hell were Verdo and Cristy? The names sounded familiar enough, but I sure couldn’t recall them. Back in the old days, Tuck knew everybody on the base and in town. Me, I didn’t give a damn for any of them. Verdo and Cristy! Well, hello to them wherever they were. I folded the note and stuck it in my pocket.
Sam said, “Now for your immediate plans, Mr. Fallon...”
I waved him off. “Let’s keep things running the way they are. Charlie knows the maintenance end and the rest of the staff must be on the ball. The Capital K has been making money. I’ll take a look at Tuck’s personal end and see how I can fit in. Hell, I got no place else to go anyway. Sound okay?”
“Fine with me,” Charlie mused.
Sam stood up and began collecting his papers. “I’ll have everything in final form in a few days,” he said.
“Before you go,” I said, “just one more thing. Between us.”
Both of them glanced up sharply.
“Did Tuck have something going for him?”
They exchanged sharp looks, then Charlie squinted and looked at the ceiling. “Like what, Cat?”
“Let’s cut it clean. Was he involved in anything illegal?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Because, Sam, the cops arc already asking questions and I gave my approval for them to poke around Tuck’s papers. How does that sound to you? Upset any applecarts?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Nope. They can look all they want. If Tuck or anybody else were involved with an illegal operation to my knowledge... or even if I suspected it... I wouldn’t be here.”
“Good enough. How about you, Charlie?”
“As far as I know, nix. He made some smart deals, but legal right down the line. He never chiseled or stole and his credit was tops. He’s flown out of here alone many a time without bothering to tell me where he was headed. I didn’t check his flight plans or even know if he filed any. But hell, a guy’s entitled to some time off. So maybe he went to Vegas or to one of those fancy fly-in fields where they have a cathouse at the end of a runway. Okay?”
I thought it over and nodded. “Suits me. I just don’t want my neck stuck out.”
“You’re the boss now,” Charlie said. “Any orders?”
“Yeah. Fix me up with one of the motel units. I’ll have my stuff sent over from the hotel. And run a hundred-hour check on the Mustang.”