The City That Never Sleeps by Walton Simons

Author:Walton Simons
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tom Doherty Associates

* * *

The movie wasn’t what he’d hoped it would be. One of the art-house theaters was showing An American in Paris and Spector had figured watching it might be a good way to put himself in an international state of mind. It wasn’t working. Gene Kelly could sing and dance. Hell, seemed like everyone could sing and dance. Nothing was real, though. It was set in Paris, but it was pure Hollywood.

Spector fished the few remaining bits out of his popcorn and chewed them silently, then left his seat and walked across the sticky floor to the exit.

Outside, the frigid wind whipped his clothes and chilled his exposed skin. At least the sun was out for now. Spector looked around slowly. New York felt the way a big city should: cold, filthy, oppressive, and uncaring.

He had plenty of cash, so Spector flagged a cab for a ride back to his apartment. The cabbie didn’t have anything to say, which was good because Spector was in the mood to kill someone and he didn’t feel like grabbing another ride just to get home.

Spector had the cab drop him a block away from his apartment. He was feeling uneasy and didn’t know why, so he let his paranoia get the better of him. He spotted a black Olds parked outside his apartment building, engine running. As he walked by he saw a young woman in the back seat looking at a notepad. Probably a grad student from NYU or Columbia doing her thesis on how the other half lives. He moved carefully up the stairs, which were coated in half ice, half slush, and entered the building with a backward glance at the car. The young girl was watching him, but looked away when he returned her gaze.

His apartment was cold, so he turned up the heat and poured a tumbler with a few inches of Jack Black. A couple of swallows helped warm and numb him. He dropped himself onto the couch and turned on the TV. He didn’t bother to change the channel from the soap opera that was playing.

Someone rapped on his door.

Spector hauled himself up off the couch and cracked the door open. It looked like the woman from the car, but he wasn’t sure. She had shoulder-length brown hair, thick-lensed glasses, and more attitude than a person her age was entitled to.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Ms. Davis. I’m Carl’s replacement. He’s afraid of you. For the record, I know who you are and I’m not afraid of you.” She lifted her chin and narrowed her eyes.

Spector shook his head. “Then you’re too stupid to be a lawyer. Or much of anything else, Miss Davis.”

“Ms.”

He partly wanted to punch her and partly wanted to kill her. Spector didn’t want a corpse in his apartment, though. And he didn’t much like killing women. Not that women didn’t deserve it just as much as men, but tombstoning one made him think of his time with the Astronomer. Those were bad times he wanted to put in the rearview mirror.

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