School days by Robert B. Parker

Author:Robert B. Parker [Parker, Robert Andrew]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: General, Mystery fiction, Detective and mystery stories, Fiction, General & Literary Fiction, Detective, Mystery, Private investigators, Mystery & Detective, Fiction - Mystery, Mystery & Detective - General, Boston (Mass.), Spenser (Fictitious character), Private investigators - Massachusetts - Boston, Mystery & Detective - Series, Large type books, Fiction & related items, Suspense & Thriller
ISBN: 9781594131165
Publisher: Waterville, Me. : Thorndike Press, 2005.
Published: 2006-06-30T04:00:00+00:00

33

“HEALY SAYS I CAN bend things a little for you,” DiBella told me as he parked his car behind a couple of state highway maintenance buildings off the Mass Pike near Worcester. One was an open-front garage where they stored salt and sand for the winter. We went in and found Animal Yang behind the salt pile with two mean-looking state troopers.

“Here he is,” DiBella said.

Animal had on a black Nike Dri Fit muscle shirt and looked impressive.

“We took a piece off him,” one of the troopers said. He held up a short Beretta .380.

“Hang on to it,” DiBella said.

He looked at Animal. “Got a permit?”

Animal shook his head. DiBella looked at me.

“Want us to run the piece for you?”

I shook my head.

“Unload it and give it back to him,” I said.

The trooper who held Animal’s gun looked at DiBella. He was a big black guy with no hair visible under his campaign hat.

“I told you,” DiBella said to him, “when I called you. This is all off the record. If anyone asks you about it, it never happened. “

The black trooper shrugged, took the magazine out of the handle, and put it in his pocket, ejected the round from the chamber, let it lie on the floor where it landed, and handed the gun back to Animal. Animal took it and held it as if he didn’t know what to do with it.

“Okay,” DiBella said to the troopers, “you boys beat it. I owe you one.”

“Maybe two or three,” the black trooper said. They went.

“I’ll be in the car,” DiBella said.

He went after them. I was alone with Animal.

“You suckered me out by the lake,” Animal said. “Don’t mean you can do it again.”

I hit him with a left hook that staggered him back against the salt pile.

“Does too,” I said.

I took my gun off my hip and pressed the barrel of it hard into the recess under his cheekbone below the left eye.

“Ow,” Animal said. “That hurts.”

“I know,” I said.

“Whaddya fucking want with me,” he said.

“I’m thinking about killing you,” I said.

“I never done nothing to you,” he said.

I kept pressing the gun. He was sweating and his face was pale. I knew it hurt, and I knew he was scared. Which was the way it was supposed to be.

“That cop’ll hear you if you shoot,” Animal said.

“Like he’ll care,” I said.

“Ow, man, that really hurts, man,” Animal said.

“Like I care,” I said.

“Don’t do it, man,” Animal said. “I didn’t do nothing to you. Gimme a break. Don’t do it.”

He was stiff against the discomfort of the gun barrel.

“You beat up George,” I said.

“Who?”

“George, one of your girlfriends.”

“I just gave her a couple whacks, man. You ... ow, man, that hurts man ... ease it up man, please. I didn’t do nothing!”

“You got one miserable chance to live,” I said.

“Man, I’ll do whatever you say. Ow, man. Stop it.”

“If you ever touch her again,” I said, “I’ll kill you on sight. I’ll find you and I’ll kill you.”

I twisted the gun barrel a little.

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