She smiled and said, “Then I don’t go back, do I?”
“Yes you do.”
“I do? Why?”
“We shouldn’t both of us be wanted. If you’re with me, you can help me, do things I can’t do. But not if there’s circulars on you, too.”
Puzzled, she said, “Then what do I do?”
“You go back. You tell your story, and you hang around two months. Two months from today you go to Utica, New York, Central Hotel. There’ll be a reservation waiting for you under the name Claire Carroll. Take the room, and I’ll meet you there.”
“Parker, is this a complicated way to get rid of me?”
“No. You either take my word for it or you don’t.”
She said, “You don’t have to be complicated, you know. If you don’t want me around, you just say so.”
“I know that.”
“Then—” She stopped, and stared past Parker, and her mouth stayed open.
Parker turned his head, slowly, and saw French in the doorway with a gun in his hand. “You’ll never find the truck,” he said.
French said, “I’m not out for the whole thing. I can’t hang around and play and cat and mouse with you, Parker. When I came in here, before your woman woke up, I called the fence. It’s Ray Jensen, in Cincinnati. I told him enough of the situation, and he’ll hold my sixth for me. He’ll be here tonight and you can dicker with him yourself. I’m clearing out.”
Parker watched French’s eyes, waiting to see how his chance was going to come, but then Claire said in a tight voice, “Don’t do anything, Parker. Please. Don’t do anything.”
Parker shrugged. “I’ll see you around, French,” he said.
French said, “We could call it square. You’re coming out in good shape.”
“If you say so. “But let Claire cut out first, she’s going back and square herself.”
French grinned. “Don’t be stupid. She’s the only thing keeping you from making a play at me. The two of you just stay here a few minutes. Don’t make me nervous. Good-bye, Parker.”
“So long, French.”
They stayed in the kitchen, Parker sitting at the table and Claire standing near the sink, until they heard the front door slam. Then Claire said, “I’m sorry. But I just wouldn’t have been able to take it.”
Parker got to his feet. “Wait ten minutes before you leave. I’ll see you in Utica.”
“Parker—”
He shook his head, and went for the door.
Seven
PARKER HELD the door barely open, and listened. French wouldn’t have had time to get all the way down the stairs yet, but there was no sound, no movement. So he was being cagey and smart.
Where would he be? He wouldn’t take a chance on hitting some other apartment; there might be people home, and then he’d have too much to think about all at once. He might go downstairs one flight and wait in the hall there to see what Parker was going to do, but the best bet was that he’d go up instead, wait one floor up, so that if Parker came out after him French would have a clear shot at Parker’s back in the hallway. So the thing to do was wait him out.
And there were two further complications. First, there was Claire, whose one taste of violence had made her allergic. Parker could see where that might complicate things a lot in the days to come, but it had its advantages too, in that Claire would be a rare find in a woman, one who would never pry into his affairs. So there was no point aggravating her if it wasn’t necessary.
The second complication was the fence. It was set up for him to come here tonight, according to French, and Parker didn’t want any ruckus in this building, or even in this immediate neighborhood. So he’d have to wait for French to leave, and then follow him.
He half-expected Claire to come down the corridor after him, asking him not to go after French, but she stayed in the kitchen, That was good; it meant she might have her hang-ups but she wouldn’t bug him about them more than absolutely necessary.
French was cautious, more cautious than Parker hud anticipated. When fifteen minutes had gone by with nothing happening, Parker finally left the door, hurried down the corridor to the kitchen, and said under his breath, “Time for you to clear out. Don’t look around, don’t hesitate, just keep moving.”
“All right,” she said. She looked composed, but pale. “I’ll see you in two months,” she said.
“Right.”
They went back to the door together, and Parker stood behind it as she went out. He held it so she couldn’t close it all the way, and he listened as she went down the stairs and out the door. And then at last he heard the small scuffling sound from upstairs that meant French was going to make his move.
The thing was, French had almost faked Parker out. Parker had been prepared to believe that French was worried enough to pull out, and now he had to remind himself that French was both a pro and hungry. He wanted the whole pie, French did.
Parker pushed the door soundlessly shut, hurried into the living room, and crouched behind an armchair in there, out of sight from the door.
