Die Now, Live Later (A Mike Faraday, P.I. Mystery Book 5) by Basil Copper

Author:Basil Copper [Copper, Basil]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Piccadilly Publishing
Published: 2014-09-01T00:00:00+00:00

I brushed it softly with the tips of my fingers. It was an astonishing likeness. The eyes were closed. I knew why. I stood looking down at it and it sat and looked blindly up at me. ‘You’re a good-looking bastard, Faraday,’ I said quietly to myself.

I had been so absorbed that I almost missed the faint scrape of shoe leather. It came from behind the curtains. I whirled round. The curtains billowed as a shape shifted behind them. I went across the room at a run. The curtains thrashed as I caught at them. A whimpering cry broke the silence. I stamped on a man’s feet behind the curtains — heavily. The cry changed into a curse. A thin man in a dark brown tussore suit broke out from behind the curtain. He had a tanned, handsome face which now had a frightened expression. His dark hair was disheveled. His white teeth shone beneath his thin black mustache. He blundered against one of the dummies as he looked at me over his shoulder.

He steadied the dummy and stopped it from falling. By this time I had almost got my hand on his shoulder, but he squirmed aside and went down the room very fast. His feet beat a sharp tattoo on the wooden boards.

‘Stop, Van Rieten,’ I called. ‘I only want to talk.’

I was still several yards from the door when he got to it. He turned and looked towards me. I had stopped by then. I glanced down and saw a pair of big feet sticking from under the curtain. Their owner probably figured he might pass for a dummy. He was a dummy all right but not that sort. Trouble was I had seen the feet before, that night at Merna Freeman’s place. They were encased in blue velvet shoes. There couldn’t be two pairs like that in L.A.

I stamped on them heavily. This was my afternoon. A loud yell broke the silence and the curtains thrashed and heaved. I put my fist into the curtain and felt it connect with someone’s belly. Breath blew out with an explosive, angry sound. Van Rieten hesitated at the door, started to come back. A fist lashed out from the curtains; it was as big as a hambone and by a lucky chance for the owner it connected with the side of my head. It didn’t hurt much but it threw me off balance. I fell against one of the wax dummies and went down. While I was getting up a big man came out in a thunder of arms and legs.

The curtains ripped and a cloud of choking dust filled the air. Through the haze I glimpsed a fat, ugly face. It glared at me, with saliva in the mouth corners. I got up as a thin-bladed knife fell down on the board floor. It hummed angrily as the point impaled itself in the wood. I picked up the knife just in case but the door was already closing on the two running figures.

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