It ain't often that I get myself all gussied up in my gray
glad rags, but today's a holiday. For one, the bets I placed with my bookie on a couple of bangtails came through - few hundred greenbacks richer, and that's only the beginning. It ain't often that I'm on the nut, 'cause work comes easy as long as somebody wants somebody else dead.
But I
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"Looking pretty pleased with yourself, Winchester."
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I look up and practically get a face-full of flatfoot. Mark Meltzer...yeah, I know the guy a little. Some cop who's never given me much beef before, but I'm pretty damn sure I know the reason why right now.
"S'been a pretty jake day so far, officer. Something grinding your gears?"
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I wouldn't put it past Winchester to throw the masked man under the bus, but it doesn't matter to me. I get information either way.
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"I know a lotta people."
The lighter flicks out, and I pocket it.
"What crime are you gettin' all hinky about?"
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Which is to say, I won't hassle him about anything else his organization might have been up to. And I'm sure there's something.
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But like I've said before, I got a soft spot for kids. Made sure she was okay before posting guards up around the joint.
I feel for the guy, but the business is tough.
"People disappear all the damn time," I shrug, tilting my head to one side. "Who're you lookin' for, Meltzer?"
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I'm playing with an empty hand, but he doesn't need to know that.
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That much is true enough. I don't usually get involved in kidnapping, or ransom, 'cause the fuzz crawls all over those cases like flies on honey. The second I heard about the kid, though, I made sure I was on it.
No tellin' what would happen to her if somebody who wasn't as nice as me took the job.
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"Cindy Meltzer, all right?"
I hate having to yield even that much--he already knows, and I'm sure of it, but this game is getting old fast.
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I look down at the badge, pursing my lips. Silence. Another slow drag of my cigarette, and I sound as conversational as possible when I reply,
"...sure, I know that job."
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"Where is she?"
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I answer, real plain, and real honest. Whether the guy believes me or not is his problem.
"But if you're gonna make a scene out here in public, Meltzer," I lean in closer, giving him a hard look. "Then you're not gonna get anywhere. Pick a joint and I'll come along for a little private conversation - as long as it ain't the precinct."
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"Just you and me."
And if he thinks that makes me a sap, he's got something else coming.
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Besides a low-life kidnapper.
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