Athabasca (31 page)

"I'd like to apologize, too," muttered Dermott, stiff with embarrassment. "Trouble was -- if I may say so -- you seemed so unco-operative."

"It was the cost that frightened me. Don't forget, I'm an accountant by training." To the amazement of the Brady team, Black actually laughed. They laughed too, from sheer release of tension -- and the next second, Black caught them neatly on the rebound.

"Well now, Mr. Brady," he said briskly, "as to the question of your fee..."

"Oh... now!" Brady spluttered, caught right off-balance. "I assumed all along I would negotiate that with your London office."

"No need, I'm glad to say." Black was all breezy sunshine. "London has empowered me to deal directly with you. Our chairman felt that despite your close friendship, or perhaps because of it -- I should settle this."

"That's. . . well. . . NO! I mean, I. . . I never discuss fees myself." Brady sounded lame, and knew it. But he pulled himself together fast, "I have to consult my accountant, even if you don't."

"Forty love, and Black to serve," muttered Dermott as they moved away. He was about to go for his coat when, down one side of the room, he spotted Corinne Delorme still sitting on a bench, as if in a trance. He went along to her.

"Come on, honey," he said gently. "Time to go."

"I just can't believe it," she said. "It's not possible."

"Well -- it happened. Are you upset?"

"Not really -- no. I didn't care that much about him. It's just that I kind of got used to believing what he said."

"I know, one does. But you saw how devious he was. Anyone who had himself kidnapped to add verisimilitude to the proceedings -- anyone who does that is hardly straight forward."

"I guess that's right. All those murders, too. Oh God, it's awful."

"It was awful. But it's over. Coming?"

"I suppose so." She stood up, and Dermott helped her into her coat.

"You and I were the two luckiest people in the whole damn business," he said. "We both ought to be dead. Without you I would be."

Suddenly her blank eyes lit up and she smiled.

Dermott smiled back. "What are you going to do now you've got no boss to work for?"

"I don't know. Find another job, I suppose."

"Not many good jobs in Fort McMurray. Why not come south and work for me?"

"For you?" Her eyes widened. "I haven't thought of that."

"Think of it now. Shall we go?"

"Okay."

"I'd offer you my arm, if it wasn't still so damned sore."

"And I might even take it." She looked upward and snuggled close against him as they went out through the door.

The sight seemed to occasion the most immense merriment in Brady and his one remaining associate. They both rolled in their seats like clowns, giving vent to noisy explosions.

"Stay me with flagons, Donald," cried Brady, as he recovered. "I am seriously in need of liquids. I was beginning to think we had a romance on our hands."

THE END

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