Loanshark (Peter McCurtin Crime Chronicles Book 1) by Peter McCurtin

Loanshark (Peter McCurtin Crime Chronicles Book 1) by Peter McCurtin

Author:Peter McCurtin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, detectives, crime fiction, mens adventure, noir fiction, organised crime, loansharks, piccadilly publishing, hard boiled fiction
Publisher: Piccadilly


Chapter Ten

I WOKE UP before seven and went out to get breakfast. It was drizzling and the West Side looked seedier than ever. Torn newspapers blew in the wind and a bum was sleeping in a doorway. It was cold but he wasn’t wearing shoes. Coming back to the rooming house I bought a throwaway plastic razor and a toothbrush. By eight o’clock I was back at the window watching the front entrance of the apartment house, though it was unlikely that May Collins would be up and around at that hour.

I didn’t feel cheerful. Down the hall some Cuban was singing in the shower. He must have been Cuban; the song was Siboney. Three hours later I was still sitting there when May Collins came out and waved down a taxi. There was no sun, but she wore a pair of over-sized shades.

At one o’clock she came back and started to unload a whole pile of packages. A short, dark man who looked like the super of the building helped her to carry them in. May had obviously been out shopping—there was so much stuff—and she hadn’t missed the liquor store. I had the feeling that the next time I called she wouldn’t be drinking cheap domestic vodka. Without a moment’s hesitation those two dirty words came into my mind—life insurance. I was just guessing, of course, but guessing is a big part of the PI business. It made sense but one thing bothered me, which was how did she get the check so fast? Insurance companies are notorious for slow pay, especially when a murder is involved. If there is any suspicion that the beneficiary did the killing, or planned it, they assign an investigator to the case, and when that happens it can take weeks or months to get the check. Sometimes you have to sue to get your money.

Even so, life insurance looked good to me. I knew Dinty didn’t have a dollar because if he had he would have found a way to lose it; and though Dominick had been dicking May, he had a miserly look. You just knew he saved paperclips and rubber bands, things like that. Dom’s idea of big spending would be to take May to one of those restaurants where you can eat all you want for one price.

That afternoon, after she had been at home for an hour, she went off in another taxi. The same routine when she came back: three armloads of packages. This time she didn’t seem too steady on her feet, and I decided to give her a call before she got too smashed. I used the pay phone in the hall.

“Pete Shay,” I said.

“You didn’t call back yesterday. Why didn’t you call back?”

Sometimes the truth works better than a lie. “I was hungover and knew I’d be rotten company.”

May said, “I know what you mean. You should have called anyway, Pete. I have a sure cure for a hangover.”

“Not for this one.”

“You want to bet? So what’re you doing now?”

“I’m in the neighborhood and took a chance you’d be in.



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