Why Me? Read Online Free Page B

juice (at which he made a face), two fried eggs over hard , white bread toasted with apricot preserves, instant coffee with a lot of milk and sugar. He had finished everything but the second piece of toast and the third cup of coffee when May came into the kitchen, wearing her coat. “Don’t forget to call Andy Kelp,” she said.
    Dortmunder was fiddling with the digital watch. “Mm,” he said, and pressed the button on the side; the pink numbers said 6:10:42:08. “Mm,” he said.
    â€œYou’ll be home for dinner?”
    â€œYeah. I’ll take that stuff over to Arnie this morning. Maybe we’ll eat out.”
    â€œThat’d be nice,” she said, and left the kitchen.
    Dortmunder drank some coffee, turned the watch around and around in his hands, poked it a bit, and pressed the button on the side. 6:10:42:08.
    The front door closed.
    Dortmunder chewed toast and considered the watch. When you weren’t pressing the button on the side, the rectangular black face was blank; it looked like Dick Tracy’s wrist TV. Dortmunder held the watch near his mouth. “Hello, Tess?” he said. “This is Tracy.”
    The phone rang.
    Dortmunder removed the remaining toast from his mouth by drinking the remaining coffee, patted his lips with a paper napkin, and walked into the living room. He picked up the phone on the fifth ring. “Yeah,” he said.
    â€œWhat took so long?”
    â€œHello, Andy.”
    â€œYou were in the kitchen, I bet.” The real Andy Kelp sounded just as cheery as the machine Andy Kelp.
    â€œYou got a machine on your phone,” Dortmunder accused him.
    â€œYou want an extension for your kitchen?”
    â€œWhat do you want with a machine on your phone?”
    â€œIt’d save you steps. I could install it myself, you wouldn’t pay any monthly fee.”
    â€œI don’t need an extension,” Dortmunder said firmly, “and you don’t need a machine.”
    â€œIt’s very useful,” Kelp said. “If there’s people I don’t want to talk to, I don’t talk to them.”
    â€œI already do that,” Dortmunder said, and the phone went guk-ick, guk-ick, guk-ick . “Now what?” Dortmunder said.
    â€œHold on,” Kelp told him. “Somebody’s calling me.”
    â€œSomebody’s calling you? You’re calling me.” But Dortmunder was speaking into a dead phone. “Hello?” he said. “Andy?” Then he shook his head in disgust, hung up, and went back to the kitchen to make another cup of coffee. The water was just boiling when the phone rang. He turned off the flame, walked back to the living room, and answered on the fourth ring. “Yeah,” he said.
    â€œWha’d you hang up for?”
    â€œI didn’t hang up. You hung up.”
    â€œI told you hold on. That was just my call-waiting signal.”
    â€œDon’t tell me about these things.”
    â€œIt’s terrific,” Kelp said. “Say we’re talking like this—”
    â€œYeah.”
    â€œAnd somebody else wants to call me. Instead of a busy signal, the phone rings. That’s the click-click you heard.”
    â€œIt wasn’t click-click, it was guk-ick .”
    â€œWell, whatever. The point is, I’ve got this button on the phone here, and I press it to put you on hold and answer this other call. Then I tell them I’ll call them back, or whatever I do, and I press the button again, and we go on with our conversation, same as ever.”
    â€œWe could go on with our conversation same as ever without all that stuff.”
    â€œBut I’d miss that other call.”
    â€œAndy,” Dortmunder said, “if you want to call me, and the line’s busy, what do you do?”
    â€œI hang up.”
    â€œ Then what do you do?”
    â€œI call back.”
    â€œSo I didn’t miss the call, did I?”
    â€œBut this is more