Bennett - Murder Money by Jay Bennett

Author:Jay Bennett [Bennett, Jay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: mystery, detective, scotland yard, England, murder
Publisher: Wildside Press
Published: 2018-05-18T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

When he got out of the car, the sultry tropic night closed about him. The air was still and heavy; the broad feathery leaves of the palm trees hung motionless. Only the sound of the ocean could be heard, boom and swish, boom and swish.

“Doran.”

Eddie stopped. A man came out of the flat emptiness of the night and stood before him. He was as big as Eddie, with wide hulking shoulders and a close-cropped head. His features were thick, his nose flat and broken; the bone jutted under the skin, at the bridge.

“Well?”

Eddie saw another fellow come and stand near him. He was lean, with a narrow, angular face. Even in the moonlight Eddie could see the swarthiness of his skin. His cheekbones were high and pointed; above them the eyes stared at Eddie with a seething hatred. His hair was raven black and shining.

“You go in and you see Ferer,” the big man said to Eddie.

“I know that.”

“And I’m telling you again.”

“Esta el hombre/’ the lean fellow said, and he spat into Eddie’s face.

“Si, Mateo. El hombre/’ the big man said.

Eddie wiped the spit from his cheek, while within a hot rage began.

“Don’t start pushing me around, you bastards.”

“We’ll push you, punk. As far as we want.”

He hit Eddie hard in the jaw, then kneed him in the groin, and Eddie fell to his knees, gasping.

“Bueno, Juan,” Mateo said, and he kicked Eddie savagely in the ribs.

“You sons of bitches,” Eddie shouted.

He got to his feet in a fury and threw himself upon them. He hit the lean fellow on the side of the head and then spun him away from him. Then he feinted away from Juan and struck twice, two hard chopping blows. The hulking man fell flat on the gravel, the blood leaking out of his broken nose.

“Get up, you bastard, and take some more,” Eddie shouted.

He stood over the fallen man. “Get up,” he shouted.

Then he felt the gun barrel pressing into his back. And he heard Mateo’s voice.

“Stay. You stay.”

He slowly lowered his fists. But he kept them clenched till the nails cut into the skin.

“No move.”

Juan got to his hands and knees, the blood still running from the wide flaring nostrils.

“Hold it on him, Mateo.”

His breath heaved. He fumbled madly in his jacket pocket. Then his fist closed over a black automatic. He rose.

“I’m taking you down to the beach and giving you what’s coming to you, punk.”

His little eyes blazed at Eddie. The blood kept running down and over his thick distorted lips.

“Come on, punk. You’re ending up in the ocean. With a bullet in your head.”

Eddie stood there, rooted to the spot. An icy sensation started in the pit of his stomach and then spread rapidly through him. A cold sweat broke out all over his body.

“Come on,” the twisted mouth barked. “Or I’ll give it to you right here.”

The gun leveled in a hard line.

Then Eddie heard Mateo’s sharp voice.

“No, Juan. Ferer.”

And he saw, as if in a haze, Mateo come between him and the huge man.

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