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Charles Williams's The Long Saturday Night (a.k.a. Confidentially Yours; a.k.a. PDF

By Charles Williams

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Extra info for The Long Saturday Night (a.k.a. Confidentially Yours; a.k.a. Finally, Sunday!)

Sample text

Hah! You don’t think he was the only one, do you? I cursed. Damn that girl, anyway! I tried to push the telephone call out of my mind, but it kept coming back. And I still didn’t know why Frances had suddenly decided to come back from New Orleans. Did it have something to do with Roberts’ death? But how could she have known of it? She hadn’t received a phone call from here. No, I corrected myself; she merely hadn’t received any at the hotel. She hadn’t called me from there, had she? I wished I could find out who the girl was.

I mean I won’t answer anything until I’ve been advised to by a lawyer. ” He slammed a hand on the desk. ” “That’s what puzzles me. ” We alternately glared and shouted at each other until George arrived in a little over ten minutes. He’s 51, six feet tall, ramrod straight, with graying hair and a clipped gray mustache. At first glance he always strikes you as a little on the stuffy side, or at least over-correct, but he unbends when he knows you and he’s a very astute lawyer and a deadly, if cautious, poker player.

It’s enough. Let’s see—you’re on Mountain Time there, so send it about eight tomorrow morning, straight wire. Phone it in from a pay phone, so there’s no way they can trace it back to you. ” “Right. ” “TO WARREN REALTY COMPANY, CARTHAGE, ALABAMA. ” He read it back. ” “No,” I said. ” “Por nada. ” “Okay. ” I dropped the receiver back on the hook, and walked back to the parking lot. The old car ran all right. Beyond Pass Christian, Mississippi, I stopped and bought some sandwiches and a quart thermos which I had filled with coffee.

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The Long Saturday Night (a.k.a. Confidentially Yours; a.k.a. Finally, Sunday!) by Charles Williams


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