The Way to Dusty Death

The Way to Dusty Death by Alistair MacLean Page B

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Authors: Alistair MacLean
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the sight of you, won’t even speak to you ever since — ever since —’
    ‘Ever since I crippled you.’
    ‘Oh, dear God!’ The distress in the face was very real. ‘He’s my brother, Johnny, but he’s not me. Can I help it if — look, whatever his grudge, can’t you forget it? You’re the kindest man in die world, Johnny Harlow —’
    ‘Kindness doesn’t pay, Mary.’
    ‘You still are. I know you are. Can’t you forget it? Can’t you forgive him? You’re big enough, much more than big enough. Besides, he’s only a boy. You’re a man. What danger is he to you? What harm can he do you?’
    ‘You should see what harm a dangerous nine-year-old can do in Vietnam when he has a rifle in his hands.’
    She pushed her chair back. The tonelessness in her voice belied the tears in her eyes. She said: ‘Please forgive me. I shouldn’t have bothered you. Good night, Johnny.’
    He laid a gentle hand on her wrist and she made no move to withdraw it, merely sat waiting there with a numbed despair on her face. He said : ‘Don’t go. I just wanted to make sure of something.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Oddly, it doesn’t matter any more. Let’s forget about Rory. Let’s talk of you.’ He called to the waitress. ‘Same again, please.’
    Mary looked at the freshly filled glass. She said: ‘What’s that? Gin? Vodka?’
    ‘Tonic and water.’
    Oh, Johnny!’
    Will you kindly stop ‘Oh, Johnnying me’.’ It was impossible to tell whether the irritation in his voice was genuine or not. Wow then. You say you are worried  as if you have to tell anyone that, far less me. Let me guess at your worries, Mary. I would say that there are five of them, Rory, yourself, your father, your mother and me.’ She made as if to speak but he waved her to silence. ‘You can forget about Rory and his antagonism to me. A month from now and he’ll think it was all a bad dream. Then yourself — and don’t deny you are worried about our, shall we say, relationship : those things tend to mend but they take time. Then there’s your father and mother and, well, me again. I’m. about right?’
    ‘You haven’t talked to me like this for a long long time.’
    Does that mean I’m about right?’
    She nodded without speaking.
    ‘Your father. I know he’s not looking well, that he’s lost weight. I suggest that he’s worried about your mother and me, very much in that order.’
    ‘My mother,’ she whispered. ‘How did you know about that? Nobody knows about that except Daddy and me.’
    ‘I suspect Alexis Dunnet may know about it, they’re very close friends, but I can’t be sure. But your father told me, over two months ago. He trusted me, I know, in the days when we were still on speaking terms.’
    ‘Please, Johnny.’
    ‘Well, I suppose that’s better than ‘Oh, Johnny’. In spite of all that’s passed, I believe he still does. Please don’t tell him that I told you because I said I’d tell no one. Promise?’
    ‘Promise.’
    ‘Your father hasn’t been very communicative in the past two months. Understandably. And I hardly felt I was in a position to ask him questions. No progress, no trace of her, no message since she left your Marseilles home three months ago?’
    ‘Nothing, nothing.’ If she’d been the type to wring her hands she’d have done just that. ‘And she used to phone every day she wasn’t with us, write every week and now we —’
    ‘And your father has tried everything?’
    ‘Daddy’s a millionaire. Don’t you think he would have tried everything?’
    ‘I should have thought so. So. You’re worried. What can I do?’
    Mary briefly drummed her fingers on the table and looked up at him. Her eyes were masked in tears. She said: ‘You could remove his other main worry.’
    ‘Me?’
    Mary nodded.
    At that precise moment MacAlpine was very actively concerned in investigating his other main worry. He and Dunnet were standing outside a hotel bedroom door, with MacAlpine inserting a key in the

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