Nice Girls Finish Last by Sparkle Hayter

Author:Sparkle Hayter
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
ISBN: 9781497678323
Publisher: Open Road Media

13

“We found the body tonight, in an abandoned building three blocks from your apartment,” Ferber said, shoving mug shots in front of me. “The body’s not in very good shape so we’ll have to go with the pictures.”

“You say his name is Joey Pinks?”

“Yeah. He’s an ex-con,” said Detective Richard Bigger, who was standing over me like a buzzard. “He did some time for trying to kill his mother ten years ago—she’s dead now, natural causes—and he has a couple of forgery convictions, a transfer to a mental institution. He left there about a month ago.”

I studied the mug shots carefully. It was hard to tell how old he was, thirties, forties maybe. His face was very, very white, roundish, ordinary. Another shot, taken by the cops, showed a red scar across the fingers of his right hand. That and a “Repent” tattoo were the only distinguishing marks.

“No, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before,” I said.

“We found this on him,” Ferber said, holding a baggie up for my examination.

It was my business card, with my home address written on the back.

“It’s my address,” I said.

“Your handwriting?”

“No.”

“We found something else on this guy. An OTB slip for a horse called Robin’s Troubles …”

“Shit …”

“And a joint, a few dollars, and a key for the Hotel Bastable,” Bigger said. “Pinks was shot in the heart, same caliber bullet as the one that killed Kanengiser, and he had your card on him. So we think it has something to do with this Kanengiser murder. We won’t know for sure until ballistics is finished.”

“They’re backed up,” Ferber said.

“So I guess this guy was coming to see me,” I said.

“And someone else got him first.”

“Maybe he was coming to tell me something about Kanengiser. This is probably the key to the whole thing, and he’s dead and what he knows has died with him.”

There were cops all around me, most of them men, in this testosterone-choked office, young, fit guys in snappy blue uniforms and older, pudgier guys in plainclothes, jackets off and sidearms exposed. I found myself crossing my legs and remembering my rule about not dating cops, especially younger cops. Especially younger, pretty-boy cops.

Not that any cops had asked me out …

“A strange man called my answering machine,” I said. “I don’t know who he was, or why he was calling me because the message was cut off. But I wonder …”

A uniformed cop came up. “Sirs, ma’am, Ms. Hudson’s escort wants to know how much longer she’s going to be.”

Fennell had insisted on coming down to Manhattan South, and he was waiting for me outside on a bench. He was probably out there insulting the cop-shop decor or making rude remarks about body odor.

“I guess we’re through,” Bigger said, although he said it suspiciously. He was just plain suspicious of me, but it was as if he couldn’t figure out why and it was really bugging him. “We’ll call you if we have any more questions.”

When I got out, Fennell said, “You certainly are the most interesting date I’ve been out on recently,” he said.

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