almost pleasant, that ride. It was almost like those times twenty years ago when we could sit and feel each other there in the dark and quiet and I could know the sensation of love long before the knowledge of hate. Neither of us spoke. We didn’t have to. We knew what was in the other’s mind and it was enough. I closed my eyes and thought about it and suddenly had to stop myself from reaching for her hand.
When the cab stopped at the intersection I could hear her breathing, forcing herself to keep control and I grinned because that’s the way I wanted her to be. She knew she was going to die but didn’t know when. My lovely Rondine was sweating inside.
At the restaurant I got out, paid off the cab and she stood there waiting dutifully, with perfect composure, knowing yet not being quite sure, that it wouldn’t happen there. Rondine had always been like that. Even when she killed it had been with class. A lady, I thought. A lovely guise. It could cover almost anything.
We took a booth in the back, ordered a drink first, then steaks, and over the highball I grinned at her and she spoke for the first time. “You are making a big mistake, Tiger.” There was ice in her voice.
“I’ll take my chances on how I live or die, kid. No more mistakes for me.”
Then for some reason the ice went out of her. There was a sudden heat in her eyes and the tip of her tongue moistened her lips before she sipped her drink. That was an old trick of Rondine’s too. She could switch from hot to cold before you were aware of it and the new attitude almost made you forget the former one. She hadn’t forgotten a thing.
When she tilted her head back I looked for the surgical scars, but the shadow of her chin obscured the region there. Later I’d find out.
“I don’t understand your new technique, Tiger,” she said. “You were going to kill me earlier.”
“I still will, kitten, so keep sweating.”
“Then why...” she made a motion of her hand around the booth.
“People have been telling me about you. I have feelers out. How’d you do it, Rondine?”
Her eyes creased in a frown. “Do what?”
“Get inside the Caine family.”
Both her hands held the glass delicately and her eyes were steady on mine. “I was born into it. If you asked, then you would have found out.”
“That’s what I was told, but I have other ideas.”
She flicked open her cigarette case, put one between her lips and waited for me to light it for her. Over the flame she said, “And they are?”
“A staid, respectable British family loaded with pride and tradition can have a lot to lose if somebody can jangle a skeleton in their closet. I wonder what they’d do or what they’d agree to do if they were suddenly confronted with something that could put them up to public ridicule and scorn to the point that they couldn’t hold their heads up. Sometimes honor can tumble in the face of pride. It’s an old dodge, sugar.”
I knew I hit it right when her face went almost white. Tiny lines fixed themselves beside the corners of her mouth and eyes and her fingers nearly snapped the cigarette in two. For a few seconds her breath was caught in her throat and if ever she wanted to kill me it was then.
The laugh I made was the nastiest thing I ever heard. “What did you hold over their heads, Rondine?”
Through her teeth she said gently, “I’d like to kill you.”
“I know,” I told her.
Only Rondine could have done it, that quick reversal of emotion, one second full of hate, the next totally calm and poised, thinking fast, ready with an answer. “Why don’t you ask them?”
“I will. There are people working on it now. Before long I’ll have all the facts and you’ll fall. This minute pictures of you are all over the continent going to the offices of plastic surgeons and sooner or later I’ll have the right one who did the face job. Or did you get it in Russia?”
Her smile was ambiguous. “Find out for yourself, Tiger.”
“My
When the cab stopped at the intersection I could hear her breathing, forcing herself to keep control and I grinned because that’s the way I wanted her to be. She knew she was going to die but didn’t know when. My lovely Rondine was sweating inside.
At the restaurant I got out, paid off the cab and she stood there waiting dutifully, with perfect composure, knowing yet not being quite sure, that it wouldn’t happen there. Rondine had always been like that. Even when she killed it had been with class. A lady, I thought. A lovely guise. It could cover almost anything.
We took a booth in the back, ordered a drink first, then steaks, and over the highball I grinned at her and she spoke for the first time. “You are making a big mistake, Tiger.” There was ice in her voice.
“I’ll take my chances on how I live or die, kid. No more mistakes for me.”
Then for some reason the ice went out of her. There was a sudden heat in her eyes and the tip of her tongue moistened her lips before she sipped her drink. That was an old trick of Rondine’s too. She could switch from hot to cold before you were aware of it and the new attitude almost made you forget the former one. She hadn’t forgotten a thing.
When she tilted her head back I looked for the surgical scars, but the shadow of her chin obscured the region there. Later I’d find out.
“I don’t understand your new technique, Tiger,” she said. “You were going to kill me earlier.”
“I still will, kitten, so keep sweating.”
“Then why...” she made a motion of her hand around the booth.
“People have been telling me about you. I have feelers out. How’d you do it, Rondine?”
Her eyes creased in a frown. “Do what?”
“Get inside the Caine family.”
Both her hands held the glass delicately and her eyes were steady on mine. “I was born into it. If you asked, then you would have found out.”
“That’s what I was told, but I have other ideas.”
She flicked open her cigarette case, put one between her lips and waited for me to light it for her. Over the flame she said, “And they are?”
“A staid, respectable British family loaded with pride and tradition can have a lot to lose if somebody can jangle a skeleton in their closet. I wonder what they’d do or what they’d agree to do if they were suddenly confronted with something that could put them up to public ridicule and scorn to the point that they couldn’t hold their heads up. Sometimes honor can tumble in the face of pride. It’s an old dodge, sugar.”
I knew I hit it right when her face went almost white. Tiny lines fixed themselves beside the corners of her mouth and eyes and her fingers nearly snapped the cigarette in two. For a few seconds her breath was caught in her throat and if ever she wanted to kill me it was then.
The laugh I made was the nastiest thing I ever heard. “What did you hold over their heads, Rondine?”
Through her teeth she said gently, “I’d like to kill you.”
“I know,” I told her.
Only Rondine could have done it, that quick reversal of emotion, one second full of hate, the next totally calm and poised, thinking fast, ready with an answer. “Why don’t you ask them?”
“I will. There are people working on it now. Before long I’ll have all the facts and you’ll fall. This minute pictures of you are all over the continent going to the offices of plastic surgeons and sooner or later I’ll have the right one who did the face job. Or did you get it in Russia?”
Her smile was ambiguous. “Find out for yourself, Tiger.”
“My
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