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.""You better ask somebody who can tell you.""And who's that?""I wouldn't know."The Saint smiled very faintly."Tough guy, aren't you?""Maybe.""So am I," Simon said, rather diffidently."I'm sure you know who I am.And Iexpect you've heard about me before.I'm a pretty tough guy too, Karl.I couldhave quite a good time getting rough with you.""Yeah? When do you start?""You don't want to play?""No, bud."The smile didn't leave the Saint's lips."Bud," he said, "your dialogue is a little dull."He put his weight on the foot that was on the floor, and fol-lowed it with theother.He knew exactly what he was going to do, and he was per-fectly calm about it.It wouldn't be pretty, but that wasn't his fault.He couldn't see anythinghandy to tie Morgen up with at the moment, and he couldn't afford to take anychances.The man really was tough, out of the down-to-bone fiber of him anddangerous.The Saint's expression was amiable and engaging, and he really felt that way,taking an audit of his good fortune.Only the icy blue of his eyes matched thepart of his mind that was detached and passionless and without pity orfriendliness.He walked around the bench until he was within arm's length of Morgen, andraised his right hand until his gun was at the level of Morgen's face.Theother stared at it without blinking.Simon swung his wrist and forearm througha sudden arc that smashed the gun barrel against the side of the man's head.Morgen staggered and clung to the table.The Saint took another step towardshim and jabbed the muzzle of the gun like a kicking piston into the region ofhis solar plexus.Morgen gasped throatily and sagged towards him.The Saint took a half step back and slipped the automatic into his pocket.Heused Morgan's chin like a punch-bag, giving him a left hook and then a right.The man let go the table and reeled back until he crashed into the wall behindhim and slid down it to the floor."Get up," Simon said relentlessly."This is only the begin-ning."The man clawed himself up against the wall.He spat blood, and spat out anunprintable phrase after it.Simon hit him again.Morgen's head caromed off his knuckles and thuddedagainst the wall.The man's eyes were glazing, and only the same wall at hisback held him upright.He stood flattened against it, his arms spread out a little to hold himselfup."How does it feel to suffer for your Führer?" Simon asked gently.Page 42ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.htmlHe hit the man once more, not so hard, but stingingly.It wasn't a magnificent performance, and it wasn't meant to be.It was simplyand callously the mechanical process known in off-the-record police lore assoftening up the opposition.But the Saint had no more compunction about itthan he would have had about gaffing a shark.He was too sure of how KarlMorgen would have behaved if the positions had been reversed.He was even more sure as he stared down Morgen's eyes, still unchangeablyvicious and hate-filled in spite of their un-certain focus, but beginning toshift in sheer animal dread of such ruthless punishment."This can go on as long as you like, Karl," said the Saint, "and I won't mindit a bit.I can spend the rest of the day beat-ing you to a pulp.And inbetween times we can try some new tricks with bunsen burners and some of thehungrier acids.""You son of a bitch!""You won't get around me by flattering my mother.Do we talk or shall we go onplaying?"He poised his fist again; and for the first time Morgen flinched and raisedone arm to cover his face."Well?" Simon prompted."What d'ya want to know?""That's better."The Saint took out another cigarette and lighted it.He blew the first breathof smoke deliberately into Morgen's face.If he had to bully a bully, he couldgo all the way with it."Are you working for Imberline?" he asked."No.""What were you doing with him last night?""I only just met him.I was tryin' to get a job with Consoli-dated Rubber.""Why?""I want to eat.""It seems to me," Simon observed, "that you're rather fond of rubber in yourdiet.""You got me wrong, bud.I'm a chemist.I gotta find a job I can do."Simon's gaze was inclement and unimpressed."Who gave you that note to put in my pocket?""Somebody else.""The same guy who hired you to snatch Madeline Gray?""That wasn't a snatch.We were just goin' to scare her a bit.""I said, was it the same guy?""Yeah.""Who?""Someone I work for.""Karl," said the Saint genially, "I'm afraid you're stalling.Don't keep thesuspense going too long, or I might get excited.Who are you working for?""A business man.""Is his name Schicklgrüber?"Morgen's eyes burned."No."Simon smashed him on the mouth with a long straight left that bounced his headoff the wall again."I told you I was excitable," he said equably [ Pobierz caÅ‚ość w formacie PDF ]