The Shadowers by Donald Hamilton

touching the cut gingerly with her tongue. Her eyes, under the thick black brows, hated me.
    “You creep!” she breathed. “You disgusting creep, with your knife and your kiss and your smooth, smooth line... Oh, you were good, you were great, Mr. Corcoran. You had the little girl feeling all romantic and warm inside. Hell, there were tears in her eyes as she watched you go away down the stairs. And then the other man came, the one for whom you’d really been putting on the show all the time. Isn’t that right? You didn’t really give a damn about me; you were just using me. All the time it was an act for his benefit, wasn’t it? In case you don’t know, his name is Kroch, Karl Kroch. He told me to call you and tell you. Well, you’re here, so I’m telling you. Now get out of here!”
    “Kroch,” I said. “Why did he want you to tell me?”
    “How should I know why?” she demanded. “You’re the clever one. You figure it out.”
    “Are you all right?” I asked.
    Her eyes widened scornfully. “Why, I’m fine,” she said savagely. “I’m great, Mr. Corcoran, don’t I look it? I’m marvelous. I’ve just been slapped all over my studio. I’ve been tossed on my bed and had most of my clothes ripped off by a gorilla who didn’t really care any more about my body than if I’d been a store-window dummy. He just... just violated me because it was the lousiest thing he could think of to do to me short of killing me. He said this would let you know he meant business and couldn’t be stopped. He said when the time came he’d act and to hell with you. He said if you had any objections he wouldn’t be hard to find. He said this would tell you the kind of man you had to deal with.”
    “Karl Kroch,” I said.
    “That’s the name,” she said. “A real crazy goon. And he can come back any time and go through the same routine all over again, and I’ll just be happy because he isn’t you! Why... why I really liked you. And you set me up for that!” She drew a harsh breath. “Now, if you’ve had your eyeful, get out of here! P-please get out of here!” Her voice faltered on the last sentence.
    I asked, “Do you want a doctor?”
    She shook her head. “No. He’d just ask a lot of dumb questions. I... I’m all right. I told you before I wasn’t a sheltered virgin. I’ve had it rough before. Maybe not this rough, but rough. I’m all right. Just go away, will you?” She was silent for a moment. “Paul.”
    “Yes?”
    “You might at least have warned me! You might have let me know what you were getting me into. You might have told me the kind of people... He had a face like Mount Rushmore before they carved presidents on it. It never changed. He didn’t get any bang out of mussing me up or even... even taking me. It was like he was a machine just programmed to... Is that the way you are, Paul? Inside? Behind that humorously satanic look that makes a girl feel she’s found somebody, well, dangerous but nice. Just another machine with a different face? One machine labeled Kroch. One machine labeled Corcoran. Playing some kind of lousy, mysterious game. And a naïve little softhearted sentimental kook named Vail, caught in the middle!”
    I said, “If there’s anything I can do—”
    “I told you. You can get out of here!”
    “Sure.” After a moment, I started to turn away.
    “You don’t have to worry,” she said behind me. “It’s still a deal. It’s a lousy, rotten deal but I agreed to it and I’ll stick to it. I won’t call the police and interfere with your crummy business, whatever it is. I won’t talk.” Her voice was hard. “But on second thought, there is something you can do. You can pay for the damage. My wardrobe is kind of limited. I’ve got plenty of jeans with paint on them, but I don’t have so many dresses I can afford to have them torn up.”
    I took out my wallet and went back to her and put some bills on the bed beside her, all I had with me except the small