Sweet Little Hands by Lawrence Block

Author:Lawrence Block [Block, Lawrence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 2940012821010
Goodreads: 12298982
Publisher: Lawrence Block
Published: 2011-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

“He’s gone,” she said.

“He’s gone, and the rest of them are gone, and the body’s gone.”

“The body.”

“And they took my gun, but your friend swears I’ll get it back.”

“My friend?”

“He’d certainly like to be your friend. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you. When he wasn’t trying for a glimpse of your tits he was looking at your little pink toes.”

“I guess I should have put slippers on.”

“And fastened the top button of your robe. But I think you were just fine the way you were. Quite fetching, and the detective thought so, too.”

“And now he’s gone, and we’re alone. So tell me.”

“Tell you what?”

‘Tell me everything, George. I was going crazy, sitting up there and not knowing what was going on down here.”

“As if you didn’t know.”

“How could I know? Maybe he’d chicken out. Maybe you actually would fall asleep—”

“Small chance of that.”

“Tell me what happened, will you?”

“He opened the window and climbed over the sill. Clumsily, I’d have to say. I was afraid he’d make so much noise he’d frighten himself off and pop out again before I could do anything.”

“But he didn’t.”

“Obviously not. I opened one eye just wide enough to get a glimpse of him, and as soon as he had both feet on the floor I opened both eyes and pointed the gun at him.”

“And he’d already grabbed the dagger off the wall?”

“Of course not. That came later.”

“He grabbed it later?”

“Do you want to hear this or do you want to keep on interrupting?”

“I’m sorry, George.”

“He saw the gun, and his eyes widened, and he looked on the point of saying something. So I shot him.”

“That was the first shot.”

“Obviously. I shot him in the pit of the stomach, and—”

“Where? I couldn’t really see anything. Where did the bullet enter? Around the navel?”

“Below the navel. I’d say about halfway between his navel and the place where you left your lipstick.”

“The place where I left—”

“Just a joke, my dear. Halfway between his navel and his dick, that’s where I shot the son of a bitch. It put him down and shut him up and I guess it hurt. Abdominal wounds are supposed to be the most painful.”

“And then it was ages before the second shot.”

“I doubt it was more than thirty seconds. Say a minute at the outside.”

“Was that all? It seemed longer.”

“For him as well, I’m sure. But I wanted a moment or so to tell him.”

“To tell him.”

“I didn’t want him to die thinking something had gone horribly wrong. I wanted him to know everything was working out just the way it was supposed to, that he’d been set up and played for a sap. He didn’t want to believe it.”

“But you convinced him.”

“‘A few hours ago,’ I told him, ‘she had two fingers up your ass. I hope you enjoyed it.’”

“You told him that?”

“It was a convincer.”

“And then what? You shot him?”

“In the heart. To put him out of his misery, although he didn’t look miserable so much as he looked embarrassed. You should have seen the look on his face.

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