The Best Paranormal Crime Stories Ever Told by Martin H. Greenberg

Author:Martin H. Greenberg [Greenberg, Martin H.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Fiction, General, Fantasy, Detective and Mystery Stories; English, Mystery & Detective, Parapsychology in Criminal Investigation, Paranormal, Paranormal Fiction; American, Science Fiction, Fantasy Fiction; American, Crime, Short Stories, Fantasy Fiction; English, Detective and Mystery Stories; American
ISBN: 9781616081195
Publisher: Skyhorse Publishing
Published: 2010-11-01T04:00:00+00:00

St. Ignazio’s was dark and shadowy, lit only by candles. The whole place smelled of incense and lingering perfume . . . The Widow Butera’s perfume, I realized, as I saw her kneeling before a statue of Saint Paula, patron saint of widows.

Father Michael and two guys from the Bernini family were waiting for me in an alcove on the other side of the church.

“Is Joey here yet?” I asked the Widow Butera.

“What do I care? What do I care about any of you fiends?” She rose to her feet and came towards me. “I hate you all! Every single one of you! I spit on you! I spit on your mothers’ graves!”

“So you haven’t seen him?”

She shook her fist at me. “Stay away from me!”

“Hey, I’m not the one trying to make you a widow for the fourth time. So don’t yell at me, sister. And . . .” I frowned as wispy white things started escaping from the fist she shook at me. “Are those feathers? Whatever happened to praying with rosary beads?”

She made a really nasty Sicilian gesture and stomped towards the main door in a huff just as Joey entered the church. The poor guy’s face brightened like he’d just met a famous stripper.

He asked her, “Have you thought any more about my proposal? I mean, take all the time you need, I just won—”

“Get out of my way!” she shrieked. “Don’t ever come near me again! Don’t even look at me!”

“Maybe we’ll talk later?” Joey said to her back.

She paused to look over her shoulder at him. “Amazing,” she said in a different tone of voice. Then she left.

“You’re late,” I said to Joey.

“Sorry. Couldn’t be helped.”

“Gentlemen,” said Father Michael, smelling strongly of sacramental wine as he came close to us, “the Berninis are eager to begin this summit, so if you—”

“Summit?” I repeated.

“Sitdown,” said Joey.

“Oh.”

“So if you’ll just take your seats . . .”

“You’re fucking late,” said Carmine Bernini. He was Danny (the Doctor) Bardozzi’s cousin by marriage, and also the world’s biggest asshole.

“But we haven’t been waiting too long,” added Tony Randazzo. He was a good-looking kid who’d been a soldier in the Bernini family for a few years. A stand-up guy, actually, and I’d let him date my daughter if I didn’t think I’d probably have to kill him one day.

“Would anyone care for some chips and dip?” Father Michael asked. “Maybe some cocktails?”

“We ain’t here to fucking socialize,” said Carmine.

“Don’t curse in church,” said Joey.

“Well, please fucking excuse me.”

Like I said—the world’s biggest asshole. “Never mind the refreshments, Father,” I said. “This’ll just take a few minutes.” I looked at Carmine. “Let’s lay our cards on the table.”

So we did. And what these guys told me about Danny Bardozzi’s death got my full attention.

“He said what?”

Tony said, “Danny came into the shop that day and said he’d just seen his perfect double, his spitting image.”

“His doppelgänger?” said Father Michael.

“Yeah, his doppelgangster,” said Carmine. “He was fucking freaking out. In a cold sweat, shaking like a virgin in a whorehouse, babbling like a snitch with the Feds.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.