Assignment — Stella Marni by Edward S. Aarons Page B

beginning."
    "Know where she is now?"
    "Yes."
    "Going to see her soon?"
    "As soon as you walk in the other direction, General."
    "Then I won't delay you. I'll send Tony Isotti up to help, if you want him. He's just back from Budapest. Do you want him?"
    Durell nodded. "All right."
    "Up here, you're on your own, Sam. There will be a hell of a flap if it gets out that you have State's private blessing on this thing. We've known about Blossom's attitude for some time. Sour apple, as you would say. It happens. But if anything goes wrong for you, it's your throat. Any objections?" No."
    The small gray man whistled for a cab, and one promptly appeared for him. It never failed. "Good luck then. Sam. Don't communicate with me. I don't want to know anything about this mess until it's cleaned up. If you get into trouble, it's your neck."
    "Will you see Rosalie Greenwald for me?" Durell asked.
    "Of course. Good-by, Sam."
    McFee got into the waiting cab. Durell lit another cigarette and watched the taxi vanish around the corner, beading toward Queens and La Guardia Airport. The street was empty, but he turned his head sharply and considered the shadows behind him. He felt very much alone. It was not an unusual feeling, but he never liked it, and it had never happened quite like this before. The empty street felt alien and dangerous.
    He walked two blocks before he found another cab. He was not followed. No one was behind him. As he rode uptown, he gave the driver some devious directions and then checked behind him again. Still nothing. Yet he had the feeling that there were eyes upon him.
    He had told Stella Marni to wait in his room and that he would be along within an hour. But more than four hours had passed, and uneasiness possessed him. Perhaps he had been too trusting. Perhaps the girl had tricked him and made as big a fool of him as she had of Harry Blossom.
    He rode up in the elevator to his floor and waited impatiently for the operator to take the car down, and then examined the hushed, dim hallway. There was nothing to see. Nobody was in sight.
    He rapped twice on his door and spoke his name.
    There was no answer.
    "Stella?"
    He tried the door. It wasn't locked. Even before he pushed it open and walked in to snap on the light, he knew what to expect.
    Stella Marni was not there.

Chapter Six
    He stood in the center of his hotel room, frowning. He had come up from Washington with only a small suitcase, and he had left the leather bag on the luggage rack. It was now on the bed, thrown open, his few belongings scattered with a reckless and contemptuous hand. Nothing else in the impersonally furnished room had been disturbed. He started to light a cigarette, then paused, aware of a dim trace of Stella Marni's perfume. So she
had
been here. It was hot in the room, and the steam radiator hissed, and he was perspiring.
    His position was precarious if Stella Marni had crossed him. He had staked too much on her trust in him, and on the information he had hoped to glean from her.
    He picked up the phone and called the room clerk and asked if there had been any messages left for him. There were none. The clerk had not seen Stella Marni. But then the clerk's voice changed. There had been a visitor for Mr. Durell, from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. A Mr. Blossom, who had gone up to wait in Durell's room.
    "What time was that?" Durell asked.
    "Just twenty minutes ago, sir. Isn't he there now?"
    Durell hung up.
    Stella had been here; he was more conscious than ever of her perfume. And Harry Blossom had hurried straight here from the conference, while he had talked with General McFee. Was Blossom looking for him? Or for Stella? Blossom couldn't have known for certain that Stella was hiding here, but it might have been a lucky, vindictive guess. Blossom would enjoy pinning a charge like hiding a material witness to a murder — or a murder suspect — on him.
    Stella and Blossom had been here in this room. And both were gone. Where?