Epitaphs by Bill Pronzini

Author:Bill Pronzini [Pronzini, Bill]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781628152500
Published: 1992-10-01T04:00:00+00:00

THREE CALL-BACK MESSAGES: Kerry, Frank Plutarski, Barney Rivera. I rang Kerry first, but her line was busy. Plutarski was next. His line was clear and he was the one who answered.

“Yeah, Eb and I had a talk,” he said. “He came into the office on Monday, said he was thinking about going into business for himself. He wanted me to keep him in mind if I heard of anybody who needed private work done.”

“He tell you why he was thinking of going out on his own?”

“Just that he needed a change.”

“Mention me at all?”

“No. I figured he must’ve talked it over with you, got your blessings. That’s not the way it is?”

“No. How definite was he?”

“Pretty definite.”

“Already a done deal in his mind?”

“Sounded that way to me.”

“He mention having an office yet, an agency name, anything along those lines?”

“I got the impression he hadn’t gone that far,” Plutarski said. “Asked me to call him at home if I had anything for him.”

“Meaning right away? Anytime?”

“That’s how I took it.”

“Okay, Frank, thanks.”

“What is it with you two?” he asked. “You have some kind of falling out?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Some kind of falling out.”

I punched up Barney Rivera’s number. He was home alone for a change; he bemoaned the fact as soon as I identified myself. Twenty-four hours without a woman is a lifetime to guys like Barney, who walk around with perpetual erections. He and JFK would have made good partying buddies.

“Eb’s thinking about going solo?” he said, sounding surprised. “No, not a word to me about it. When’d he make this decision?”

“Not too long ago. But I guess he’s been building to it ever since the wedding fiasco.”

“Hell, maybe he’s not serious....”

“That’s what I thought at first. But he’s serious, Barney. You’ll see that when he gets around to you.”

“Don’t think he’d try undercutting your fees, do you?”

“I hope to Christ he doesn’t. What’ll you do if he suggests it?”

“Ream him out good. I don’t do business that way.”

“I didn’t think you did.”

“Fact is, though,” Barney said, “he’s an old friend just like you are. If he’s straightforward about it, I’d have to throw a bone his way now and then too.”

“Sure, I know that.”

“Not that there are all that many bones to throw, this damned economy. Eb must know that. Alone, just starting out, he’ll be in for some lean times.”

“He’s either ignoring the fact or it doesn’t matter to him,” I said. “You know how stubborn and shortsighted he is. He always thinks he can beat the game.”

“Which is why he’s such a patsy at the poker table, drawing to inside straights and three-card flushes. Nine times out of ten he winds up losing his ass.”

“It’s his ass,” I said. “I got enough worries looking out for my own.”

“Don’t we all,” Barney said. “Don’t we all.”

Kerry’s number again. This time it was free; she picked up on the second ring. “I just got off the line with Bobbie Jean,” she said.

“She call you or you call her?”

“She called me.

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