Quarry in the Black (24 page)

“What does that have to do with the services we perform for him?”

The Broker was facing the lake but his eyes were closed now. “He has decided, Mr. Colton informs me, that he will henceforth handle all necessary liquidations ‘within house.’ That is certainly his privilege. I hold no long-term contracts with anyone.”

It seemed to me that every contract we handled was as about long-term as it got, but I let it go. Honestly, though, “henceforth?”

“I am viewed,” the Broker said, his eyes open now and on me, “as a loose end. The expression, however trite, remains apt: ‘
I know too much.
’ ”

And now so did I.

“So it’s Killian, then,” I said. “Point me.”

He shook his head, frowning. “It’s not that simple, nothing so straightforward. There’s a need for this to seem like something other than a simple hit.”

“I don’t do accidents.”

“No, I know, that requires special training, and gifts that are not among yours.” He had a healthy swig of beer. “No, I have something in mind for how this might be handled, but first it requires that you go…well, I suppose the term is ‘undercover.’ ”

“Come again?”

There was a twinkle in the gray eyes as he replied—a fucking twinkle, I swear. “Mr. Colton has agreed to help us remove Mr. Killian.”

“Could we skip the ‘misters’? We are talking about killing this prick. And what makes you think you can trust Colton?”

He batted that away. “I don’t think it’s a matter of the second-in-command wishing to stage a coup—more that Mr. Killian and his roughneck ways…no matter how well he may dress, and I understand he is quite the clotheshorse…is making enemies in certain Biloxi circles of power. His behavior is so outrageous and so damned grasping that the politicians would very much like to see him retire. Or I should say, ‘retired.’ ”

“A gold watch with a bullet through it.”

“Metaphorically correct.” He twisted toward me in the wooden chair and his hands were folded, resting against an arm of it. “There is an opening on Mr. Killian’s staff of bodyguards that Mr. Colton is in a position to arrange for you to fill. That will put you very close to Mr. Killian. Close enough for you to gain his trust, or at least his laxity.”

“Close enough to put out his lights.”

Short, quick nods. “But he is extremely well-insulated, and this must be accomplished in a manner that won’t embarrass or, worse, implicate Mr. Colton. Are you willing?”

“Like the Pope said on his death bed, why me?”

The Broker gestured in a slow-motion manner. “As it happens, you’ve never done a job in that colorful region. Never done a job emanating from that client. You are, after all, fairly new to the business.”

“Yeah, you can’t beat a fresh face. But what about the guys in the green Caddy the other night? You know, the one with the Mississippi plates?”

Both eyebrows went up, the white caterpillars on their hind legs again. “Well, one of them is quite dead, and the other was occupied, and probably got little more than a glimpse of you, if that, in that under-lit lot. Additionally, you were firing that weapon of yours, and I’m sure the orange flames it was spitting were a distraction.”

“They usually are. I don’t have to use a Southern accent or anything, do I?”

“No! You’ll be a damn Yankee, but one recommended by the Number Two in the organization. You’ll use ‘Quarry,’ and is ‘John’ all right for a first name?”

“Sure. Why not.”

He damn near beamed. Staying in the wooden deck chair, sticking his legs straight out, he dug in a pants pocket and withdraw a fat letter-sized envelope, folded over. “Here’s expense money, and a Michigan driver’s license.”

I took it. Two grand in hundreds, and a license with a picture of me—Broker had plenty of those from various states for this exact purpose.

But I frowned at him. “If you already had this ready, why ask if I was okay with ‘John’?”

“Why,” he asked, frowning back, “aren’t you all right with it?”

“No, that’s not the point. It’s just…skip it.”

My saying yes had brightened his mood considerably. “You’ll need to buy some new clothes with some of that. As I said, Killian is a clotheshorse and he expects his people to dress professionally. That money should also be plenty to front a plane ticket. Fly into somewhere other than Biloxi, New Orleans perhaps, and rent a car. You can use any of your current identities for those operations.”

There were many more details and we spoke into dusk. I invited him for a walleye dinner at Mildred’s Welcome Inn, but he passed. He had a long drive home ahead of him.

We shook hands just outside my front door and he was smiling as he walked briskly to the Lincoln. Behind the wheel, Roger gave me a nod. I didn’t return it.

I had a trip ahead of me, too.

I was fine with that—even if it was an unusual job that took me out of my element and meant I had to deal with people, which I didn’t love. But fifty grand was fifty grand. So heading South was no big deal.

As long as the job didn’t go south.

Marcy Addwatter killed her husband. Shot him dead in the motel room where he was trysting with a blonde hooker. Shot the hooker, too. But where the cops might see an open-and-shut case, private eye Michael Tree—
Ms.
Michael Tree—sees a conspiracy. For Ms. Tree, digging into it could mean digging up her own murdered husband’s grave…and maybe digging her own.

Based on the longest-running private-eye comic book series of all time,
Deadly Beloved
brings you the first-ever prose adventure of the legendary Ms. Tree—the groundbreaking female P.I. who put the ‘graphic’ into graphic novel.

“The big, bloody bouquet one would expect from the author of
Road to Perdition.
Sharp and satisfying.”
— Publishers Weekly

Available now at your favorite bookstore.
For more information, visit
www.HardCaseCrime.com

Compared to the $40 million the cops think he stole, $75,000 may not sound like much. But it’s all the money in the world to the struggling Cuban exiles of Miami who rescued Morgan the Raider. So when it’s snatched by a man the Cubans trusted, Morgan sets out to get it back. A simple favor—but as the bodies pile up…dead men and beautiful women…the Raider wonders what kind of Latin hell he’s gotten himself into, and just who or what is the mysterious Consummata?

Begun by mystery master Mickey Spillane in the late 1960s and completed four decades later by his buddy Max Allan Collins (
Road to Perdition
),
The Consummata
is the long-awaited follow-up to Spillane’s bestseller
The Delta Factor
—a breathtaking tale of treachery, sensuality, and violence, showcasing two giants of crime fiction at their pulse-pounding, two-fisted best.

Available now at your favorite bookstore.
For more information, visit
www.HardCaseCrime.com

For 20 years, former NYPD cop Jack Stang has lived with the memory of his girlfriend’s death in an attempted abduction. But what if she didn’t actually die? What if she somehow secretly survived, but lost her sight, her memory, and everything else she had…except her enemies?

Now Jack has a second chance to save the only woman he ever loved—
or to lose her for good.

A
CCLAIM FOR
M
ICKEY
S
PILLANE
:

“One of the world’s most popular mystery writers.”
— Washington Post

“Spillane is a master in compelling you to always turn the next page.”
— New York Times

“A rough-hewn charm that’s as refreshing as it is rare.”
— Entertainment Weekly

“One of the all-time greats.”
— Denver Rocky Mountain News

Available now at your favorite bookstore.
For more information, visit
www.HardCaseCrime.com

The day Joan Medford buried her first husband, her fate was sealed. For on that day she met two new men: the handsome schemer whose touch she’d grow to crave and the wealthy older man whose touch repelled her—but whose money was an irresistible temptation…

This never-before-published novel by one of crime fiction’s most acclaimed authors will remind you why Cain is considered, together with Hammett and Chandler, one of the true giants of the genre.

“Here, long after anyone would have expected it, is the voice of James M. Cain, as fresh and as relevant as ever. The Cocktail Waitress will involve you, and then shock you with an ending you’ll never forget. This is a true rarity: a reader’s novel that’s also a literary event.”
— Stephen King

“How considerate of the postman to ring a third time, delivering Cain’s final gift to us thirty-five years after his death.”
— Lawrence Block

Available now at your favorite bookstore.
For more information, visit
www.HardCaseCrime.com

Three years ago, detective John Blake solved a mystery that changed his life forever—and left a woman he loved dead. Now Blake is back, to investigate the apparent suicide of Dorothy Louise Burke, a beautiful college student with a double life. The secrets Blake uncovers could blow the lid off New York City’s sex trade…if they don’t kill him first.

Richard Aleas’ first novel, LITTLE GIRL LOST, was among the most celebrated crime novels of the year, nominated for both the Edgar and Shamus Awards.
But nothing in John Blake’s first case could prepare you for the shocking conclusion of his second…

P
RAISE FOR
SONGS OF INNOCENCE:

“An instant classic.”
— The Washington Post

“The best thing Hard Case is publishing right now.”
— San Francisco Chronicle

“His powerful conclusion will drop jaws.”
— Publishers Weekly

“So sharp [it’ll] slice your finger as you flip the pages.”
— Playboy

Available now at your favorite bookstore.
For more information, visit
www.HardCaseCrime.com