Lead with Your Left by Ed Lacy

Author:Ed Lacy
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781839740091
Publisher: Phocion Publishing
Published: 2019-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Thursday Afternoon

Exactly at one she came out of her house wearing a neat red suit which wasn’t for her—it didn’t do much to her chunky figure. She held a large paper folder and a pocketbook under her left arm. I watched the doorways, the parked cars, but couldn’t make anybody shadowing her as she slowly walked toward Broadway. I stayed a half a block behind and on the other side of the street. We reached the subway okay-and I still didn’t see any tail. Rose looked herself over in a gum machine mirror without glancing at me. There were only three other people besides us on the platform and seven people in the subway car. I didn’t bother with the people in the car—a good tail wouldn’t be riding in the same car. I kept my eyes on Rose, as if I was a stud on the make looking her over...and she looked fine: the dark hair, the sullen hot mouth, the strong figure. Even if nothing happened, it was a good way of killing a few hours. I wondered if Rose’s friends would ask if I was a corrupt goon?

We walked along Forty-second Street on opposite sides of the street. Alongside Bryant Park they got her. There was a tall wiry guy who fell in behind her—did it fast then slowed down. He was about thirty-five, wearing a new coconut palm hat and one of these corny gray flannel suits, as if sure it made him look the executive type.

Coming toward her was a lumpy joker built like a fat football player, dressed in an old plain brown suit and no hat on his noggin, baldness giving his thin hair a horseshoe shape.

He seemed to be reading a letter. They were damn good. The guy back of Rose closed in and lumpy in front of her walked into Rose. He knocked her backward against wiry who neatly hit the folder and pocketbook out from under her arm as he caught her. The papers and the pocketbook landed in the gutter which a sanitation truck had sprinkled a few minutes before.

Beefy boy was all apologies while wiry pointed to his ankle, rubbed it, and said something to Rose—probably told her to watch where she was walking. Bully boy even picked up her wet papers, “accidentally” stepping on her purse. He handed the stuff to her, fat puss still full of apology.

I’d read about rough-shadowing but this was the first time I’d ever seen it. A two-hundred-and-fifty pound lump walking into you is a rugged wallop. Rose seemed shaken but not hurt. She continued on to the library while horseshoe head went over toward Broadway. I followed him wishing I’d had Danny with me to tail the wiry joker. But if I’d called Danny on his day off he would have given me a stiff ha-ha.

Bully boy took his time walking up Broadway, window-shopping in a couple of shlock stores, stopping for an orange drink. He turned into an office building and we both went into the same elevator.

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