Glass Houses by Stella Cameron

Author:Stella Cameron [Cameron, Stella]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Police, Photography, General, Romance, Suspense, NYC, Erotica, Fiction
ISBN: 9781587241482
Google: 5BXnUWS4Q1EC
Amazon: 0821768166
Publisher: Gale
Published: 2001-05-01T21:00:00+00:00

This would, Winston Moody decided, be the last journey he took in the company of Rupert Fish. In a manner of speaking, the forced trip to America was fortuitous. Getting rid of someone was so much simpler in a big country than in a little one. Rupert would simply have to disappear. Perhaps Detective Lemon would help with that—particularly if Winston pointed out that Rupert couldn’t be trusted to remain loyal. Of course, Lemon had proved he couldn’t be trusted either.

“You should have made sure you didn’t give me the checks and the money together, Winston. The envelopes couldn’t have stuck together then,” Rupert said. “I’m almost relieved not to be in London right now. I just know those people are telephoning to demand their merchandise. They expect to get it once they’ve paid. I don’t want to talk to them until we’ve got answers.”

“What repulsive countryside this is,” Winston said, giving himself time to prepare the most demoralizing onslaught possible. “Uncivilized. All looks the same.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about the scenery.” Rupert could manage a nicely clipped accent when he remembered.

“Charming,” Winston said. "Your fly’s unzipped.”

Rupert looked into his lap and Winston promptly clutched a handful of his partner’s hair and yanked his head back and forth. He dug his fingernails into Rupert’s hairline, deep into his hairline. The car zigzagged back and forth between lanes.

“Pull yourself together,” Winston shouted. “You’re driving erratically.”

“My God,” Rupert howled. “You’re psychotic. You want to be killed. I can’t see, you fool. There’s blood running in my eyes.”

Winston took him by the ear and peered to see what damage had been done. “Very little blood,” he remarked. “The rest is tears and sweat. The people you keep harping on are criminals, Rupert. Those checks are payment for stolen property. What are they going to do—have us arrested? They can wait. We’ve got to get the FitzDurham woman and her bloody photographs. And that cop. Before they slip through our fingers and start blackmailing us. Then we have to make them dead. Then we’ll deal with the greedy ones in New York.”

This was it, Rupert thought, absolutely the last straw. He found a handkerchief and wiped his face. “You’re right, Winnie old boy. I never did have your clear head.” Flattery got the old bastard every time. “D’you think Fats Lemon will decide our idea is clever? If he’s there to meet us when he’s supposed to be? He should relate very well to our hiring a hit man.” And while Flynn and FitzDurham were being executed, an extra bonus to the shooter would take care of Winston, too.

“I think Lemon may approve. After all, he doesn’t seem to have an original idea of his own.” And once Flynn and FitzDurham were done for, Rupert would be despatched the same way. “I never thought I’d be glad he was in on everything, but I am. Without him we’d be up a gum tree.”

“Lemon’s useful to us now,” Rupert said. “I hope. But we’re not going to like any three-way cuts.

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