Page 109 - Labelle Gramercy, Detective

Cat’s Paw

off-balance. Maybe she was a trained assassin, a KGB agent out to
get the manuscript for the Soviet Union.
“Yes, me.” She hissed in my ear, and her accent was but a sour
memory. “But I am not Brazilian. I am a police officer, working
under cover. Here is my I.D.”
She let go of my arm for an instant and I bolted. But I didn’t get
far. Her hand passed over my eyes and I fell back. She grabbed my
collar and righted me.
“Relax, Mr. O’Bleakley. Now, take a good look.”
A tiny flashlight illumined a laminated card bearing her
photographic likeness and the name Labelle Gramercy. It was Lola,
all right, without the makeup or the get-up.
“What do you want with me? I’m innocent! Why don’t you go
arrest Ruth Lesley for threatening me with a knife, or Hope Lesley
for breaking and entering? Or those crooks running an insurance
company up the street?”
She was all business, this reincarnation of the Bahian ballerina.
“We haven’t much time, Mr. O’Bleakley. I’ll explain more later. I am
investigating crimes more serious than those you describe; I have put
a lot of time and effort and this idiotic disguise into getting to this
point. You yourself were a suspect until today, and I could not reveal
myself sooner. Now you must help me.”
“Okay, okay. Here’s the damned diskette. But I want a receipt.
And be careful you don’t spill coffee on it.”
She took the innocuous rectangle from my fingers and slipped it
into a Ziploc bag. It reminded me of that diamond (or was it an
emerald?) stolen from a heathen idol’s eye socket and passed from
hand to hand as the accompanying curse killed off its greedy owners.
Maybe that was a movie, not historical fact; I made a mental note to
go in for a reality check once this was all over.
“Thank you. I’ll need that for evidence.”
“Evidence! Why, that thing must be worth a fortune.”
“And what exactly is the nature of Art Lesley’s book?”
“Ah-ha! So you don’t know everything!”
“No. We have the office phones tapped, but you didn’t mention it
to Mallard.”
“Oh.” So she knew all of my movements—as well as the contents
of a lot of personal calls I’d as soon not have had listened to by the

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