Never Kill a Cat and Other Stories by Miles Archer

Author:Miles Archer [Archer, Miles]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Untreed Reads
Published: 2015-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

The Art of War

I saw the fireball erupt. One moment the night was black, then an orange and roaring fury blossomed, accompanied by the distant tympani of shattering glass. Altogether a most satisfying experience.

* * *

Cold fluorescent lights felt like ice picks in my eyes. The wages of substance abuse. The sharp point of Barbara’s high heeled shoe probed my ribs.

“Get your lazy ass in gear, McCool. You’ve got a client coming.”

I vocalized something profane and shielded my tortured vision with a forearm.

“What? Who?” Detective to the last.

“Some guy named Mori. He’s got a nine o’clock.”

“Morrie? Morrie who?”

“M-O-R-I. Steven.”

I swung my legs off the couch and disentangled myself from the blanket. “Since when did we take nine o’clock appointments? I thought I told you never book me earlier than ten,” the throb in my head making me whine.

“Get into the washroom and run the razor over your face. There’s coffee and aspirin on the desk. Get your shit together, boss. It’s almost time to pay the rent.” With that threat, she left me, banging the door just to give me a coup de grace.

The face that glowered from the mirror looked frighteningly like my Dad’s. I guided the electric mower over my two-day growth.

I had my jacket on and was slurping my second cup when Barbara showed Mori into my inner sanctum. He filled the door frame, one of those bear-like guys that manages to be huge without looking threatening. He wore a suit, but it looked to me like the suit and the man were strangers. His tie hadn’t made it to the top floor and he had been forced to leave the collar button open so he could breathe.

There was something about him that made me like him on first sight. Maybe it was the crinkly smile lines around his blue eyes. His full lips looked inclined to laugh. He appeared to be a fellow who doesn’t pretend to be more than he is, nor less. He stuck out a paw that circled completely around mine, but didn’t crush me to show off. His big frame overwhelmed the side chair.

“Can I offer you some coffee?” After all, a customer is a customer.

“Sure. Thanks. Black is fine.” I wiggled my eyebrows at Barbara. She gave me a look that should have congealed blood, but she brought a cup for him. She had the same attitude toward a possible client.

“Mr. Mori, how do you think I can help you?” I folded my hands over my belly, partly to hide their shaking, partly to appear patient.

“I have a business problem and I need some help.” He didn’t sound like he was used to asking for help. He had the look of man who was in over his head and didn’t swim.

“How did you happen to select my agency?” I like to know if my advertising works.

“You were recommended by Inspector Harry Stanton.” I have a friend in the SFPD. My relationship with the local cops is up and down. Apparently this was an “up” phase.

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