“They happen to be true. Call me crazy, but that’s my racket... Now in this case, it seems to me that most of the value of that necklace ought to go back to the poor bloody Indians who were sweated by the maharajah to pay for it while the British Government, as represented by Lord and Lady Offchurch, were benevolently sipping tea in the palace. So if you helped, I might let you have another ten per cent for yourself, but that’s all. And you can’t turn it down. Don’t forget you can louse me up, I can do the same to you.”
She sat down in another chair and looked upwards at him under lowered brows, and her gray eyes had the darkness of storm clouds.
“You certainly make it tough — stranger,” she said, and her smile was thin.
“Can’t I sell you a good cause, just once?”
“I think your cause stinks, but I have to buy it. You don’t give me any choice. Damn you.”
The Saint laughed. He crossed to her and held out his hand.
“Okay, Jeannine.”
She put her cool fingers firmly in his, and he knew, he knew quite surely, that the handshake was as false as the way her eyes cleared. The certainty was so real that it was a fleeting chill inside him, and he knew that now they were committed to a duel in which no tricks could be ruled out. But his gaze matched hers for frankness and straightforwardness, and he said, “Well now, pardner, let’s know what track you were on.”
“I was on the Coast when she arrived. I was working out on a producer. He took me to a party that she was at. I knew I couldn’t risk her in Hollywood, but I found out that New Orleans was the first place she wanted to stop over in on her way East. So right away this was my home town. I took the next plane here and got hold of this apartment, and don’t ask how. Then I wired her the address and said I was sorry I’d been called away suddenly but she must look me up and let me show her the town. Then I spent my time with a guidebook finding out what to show her.”
“As an inspirational worker, it’s an honor to know you,” Simon murmured approvingly. “Of course, you can’t belong to an old Creole family, because you can’t introduce her around. So what are you — an artist?”