Jeffery Deaver - Hell's Kitchen by Hells Kitchen

Author:Hells Kitchen [Kitchen, Hells]
Format: epub
Published: 2010-12-01T14:02:09.229000+00:00

rough edges. Then suddenly Pellam himself became the prey. The crowd had momentarily parted like the Red Sea and McKennah was staring directly at him, fifty feet away. A memory came back to Pellam—the limousine in front of Ettie's building. It had probably been McKennah's.

But the developer gave no greeting. And as the crowd swept back together McKennah turned and stepped into a cluster of guests and turned his attention on them like klieg lights on a movie set. Then the developer was moving again, on stage, always questioning, poking, probing. Ambition's a bitch, ain't it? He was about to follow when, from behind him, a woman's voice said in a very Northeastern accent, "Howdy, partner."

Pellam turned to see an attractive blonde woman in her forties, holding a champagne flute. Her eyes were faded, but not from drinking, merely from exhaustion. With a sequined shoe she tapped Pellam's boot, explaining the greeting. "Hi," he said. Her eyes flitted to McKennah. Pellam followed her gaze. She said, "Which one?" "I'm sorry?" Pellam asked. "You a betting man?" He said, "To paraphrase Mark Twain, there are only two times a man shouldn't

gamble. One, when he can't afford to lose money. And two, when he can." "That didn't answer my question." "Yep, I'm a gambling man," Pellam said. "You see those two women. The brunette and the redhead?" Pellam spotted them easily. They stood by the sweeping staircase, chatting with McKennah. Both in their late twenties, good figures, attractive. The redhead was by far the sexier and more voluptuous. The brunette had a colder face and she seemed distracted, almost bored.

"In about five minutes, Roger'll disappear upstairs. That's where the bedrooms are. Five minutes after that, one of those women will follow. Which one do you think it'll be?" "Does he know either of them?" "Probably not. You on?" Pellam studied the redhead: The extreme V of her neckline, revealing the upper slope of white breasts. Hair tumbling around her shoulders. A seductive smile. And freckles. Pellam loved freckles.

"The redhead," he said, thinking: Eight months, eight months. Eight goddamn months. The woman laughed. "You're wrong." "What're we betting?" "A glass of our host's champagne. As Mark Twain also said, it's always better to

gamble with somebody else's money than your own." They tapped glasses. Her name was Jolie and it seemed that she was unaccompanied. He followed her to

the window in the corner of the room, where it was quieter. "You're John Pellam." He gave a perplexed smile. "I heard somebody mention your name." Who? he wondered. It didn't seem likely that the Word on the streets of Hell's

Kitchen would rise all the way into this stratosphere. "I saw one of your films," she said. "About an alchemist. It was very good. I can't say

I completely understood it. But that's a compliment." "Is it?" he asked, looking at her steady, green eyes. She continued. "Think about Kubrick's 2001. It's not a very good movie. So why did it endure? The Blue Danube with the space ship? Anybody could've thought of that.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.