Devil Knows You're Dead by Lawrence Block

Author:Lawrence Block
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Detective and mystery stories, Mystery & Detective, Scudder, Matt (Fictitious character), Hard-Boiled, Crime, Fiction
ISBN: 9780752827476
Publisher: ORION
Published: 1999-09-02T04:24:28+00:00

Chapter 16

Before I left my hotel, I slipped the deck of fifty hundred-dollar bills into the top drawer of my dresser. That's the first place they'll look, a little voice told me. That was fine, I decided. Let them find it right away instead of tearing up the whole place. I closed the drawer and went out to catch a cab to Elaine's.

DINNER wasn't a great success. The restaurant she picked was indeed a little place around the corner, a French bistro that called itself Chien Bizarre, its logo featuring a severely clipped and presumably deranged poodle. Elaine, a vegetarian, couldn't find anything on the menu that hadn't flown or swum or crept sometime in recent memory. This has happened before, and she is generally cheerful about it and orders a vegetable plate. On this occasion she wasn't cheerful about it, nor did her spirits brighten when I reminded her who had picked the restaurant. The waiter helped out by being deliberately obtuse when she explained what she wanted, and the kitchen overcooked the vegetables and then overcharged for them.

The service was slow, too, and neither of us was in a mood that fostered conversation. There were a lot of long silences. Sometimes that's fine. There's an AA group I go to occasionally structured along Quaker lines, with members speaking up when moved to do so. The silence is apt to stretch between speakers, and nobody gets nervous about it. The silence is considered a part of the meeting. Elaine and I have shared silences that enhance the conversation in much the same fashion.

Not this time. These were edgy silences, uncomfortable and disquieting. I tried not to look at my watch, but there were times when I couldn't help myself, and when she caught me at it the silence only deepened.

On the way home she said, "The one thing I'm glad of is that they're in the neighborhood. I'd hate for us to have spent cab fare on that meal."

"If they weren't in the neighborhood," I said, "we wouldn't have gone."

"That was supposed to be a joke," she said.

"Oh. Sorry."

The doorman that evening was an old Irishman who'd been with the building since V-J Day. "Evening, Miss Mardell," he said cheerily, his eyes not registering my presence.

"Evening, Tim," she said. "Lovely out, isn't it?"

"Ah, beautiful," he said.

In the elevator I said, "You know, the son of a bitch makes me feel invisible. Why doesn't he acknowledge my presence? Does he think you're trying to keep me a secret?"

"He's an old man," she said. "It's just the way he is."

"Everybody in the world's either too young to know better or too old to change," I said. "Have you noticed that?"

"As a matter of fact," she said, "I have."

There was a message on her machine. It was TJ, leaving a number for me to call. I told Elaine I should probably call him right away. Go ahead, she said.

I dialed the number and it was answered on the second ring. Someone with a throaty voice said, "How may I help you, dear?"

I asked for TJ.

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