Day of the Ram (Prologue Books) by Gault William Campbell

Author:Gault, William Campbell [Gault, William Campbell]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781440539107
Publisher: F+W Media, Inc.
Published: 2011-12-31T06:00:00+00:00

ten

RICK MARTIN’S Imperial was parked in front of Jackie Held’s domain and I sat in my car for a few moments, wondering if this would be a bad time to go in.

I decided to take the chance that Enrico Martino was no matinée lover.

Jackie Held opened the door and her eyes were fearful. “I can keep a secret,” I said quietly. “Busy?”

“Not exactly. Rick is here.”

“I know,” I said, and gave her the meaningful look. Her face went blank. “Come in.”

Rick Martin sat on the flowered davenport near the small, high-hearth fireplace, a drink in his hand. A squat bottle of Scotch was on the coffee table in front of him.

He grinned at me. “Some hunk of man, that DePaolo. I should hire him for a muscle.”

“Poor Pug was outweighed, wasn’t he? Is he Lenny’s big threat?”

Martin nodded. “Drink?”

“Not unless you’ve got Einlicher,” I said.

Jackie had gone over to sit near Rick. I saw her pale and the glance she sent me was pleading.

“Einlicher?” Martin frowned. “What’s that?”

“A beer I like. Do Lenny and his brother get along?”

Martin held up two fingers intertwined. “Lenny’s got the head and the ambition and Pug’s got the muscle. What was that remark you made at the game about not being able to take Pug again?”

Jackie seemed to be holding her breath.

I told Martin about the incident in Heffner’s bar, omitting only the presence of Jackie Held at the fracas.

Martin stared. “You knocked Pug Heffner out?”

I shrugged. “It was a lucky punch. I’m sure he could take me next time.”

Martin nodded. “And you can be sure there’ll be a next time. He has a considerable reputation to maintain.”

“Can’t win ‘em all,” I said, and looked at Jackie. “I’ve a feeling you’re not telling me all you know about Johnny Quirk. All you know that would help us, I mean, of course.”

She said nothing, staring at the coffee table.

Martin finished his drink. “Well, I’ve a card game I’d hate to miss. Perhaps you’ll do better without me around, Brock.” He stood up and smirked. “Jackie’s kind of maidenly.”

Resentment flared in her young-old face. “I thought we were going to Ciro’s.”

He looked down at her blandly. “Not tonight, honey. You’ve got your dates mixed up again.”

“You’re angry about something,” she said. “Why?”

He smiled. “Believe me, I’m not angry. This card game is very important, honey.”

She went to the door with him. There, over her shoulder, he said, “Luck, Brock. Keep in touch, won’t you?”

I nodded.

For seconds after the door had closed behind him, she stood with her back to it, staring out at nothing. Dimly we heard the grind of his starter.

Then she looked at me. “Damn him. Damned dago thinks he’s something, doesn’t he?”

“He’s achieved a certain eminence. He’s equipped for it, mentally and physically. I mean, equipped to come up the way he did.” I smiled at her. “You’re not, Jackie.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said. “I have some Einlicher he doesn’t know about. Would you like a bottle?”

“I’d treasure it. Jackie, break down.

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