Fawcett-407 Man Divided
Man Divided
Fawcett
Fawcett-407
Dean Douglas
$0.35
FOREWORD
The Rivals
“Excuse me,” the large man said. “Perhaps I’ve made a mistake. I was looking for Oliver Peel.”
Sally smiled. “I’m Mrs. Peel.”
“You’re what?” The man stared. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’m Mrs. Oliver Peel,” Sally said. “We’re having a little party. If you’re a friend of Oliver’s, won’t you come in?”
“You’re Mrs. Peel?” The man laughed strangely. “Yes, of course, you would be.”
“I not only would be, I am,” Sally said angrily. “Please come in, it’s nothing formal. Unless, of course, you’re a bill collector, and in that case Oliver isn’t home…” Sally rattled on aimlessly, knowing he was not amused, this large, formidable man with a limousine and chauffeur, who knew Oliver and did not want to come in.
He issued an order. “Tell Oliver I want to see him.”
“Of course,” Sally said, fleeing up the stairway. She tugged Oliver away from a chortling group. “There’s a man down there who wants to see you.”
“Who is it?” Oliver said, his face going blank.
“He didn’t say. He wouldn’t come in. Perhaps you’d better…”
The few steps down the stairway were endless, and when Oliver reached the door he saw that it was Cromer.
He stepped outside into the soft, milky darkness, pulling the door to behind him, feeling cold and lonely and thinking of Sally. “What the hell is all this masquerade about?” Cromer said. And he smiled unpleasantly.
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