The Hardboiled Mystery MEGAPACK ®: 4 Classic Crime Novels by John Roeburt & Stephen Marlowe & Lacy & Michael McCretton

Author:John Roeburt & Stephen Marlowe & Lacy, & Michael McCretton [Roeburt, John]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: mystery, hardboiled, noir, detective, crime
ISBN: 9781479405916
Publisher: Wildside Press LLC
Published: 2015-05-18T16:00:00+00:00

“Prospect Park it is,” Barrett said.

“In the old days they used to hide packages down in Flatlands,” Puggie told him. He wasn’t complaining, but offering an item of information.

“It’s built up since then, Puggie. Plenty of houses and people.”

“Yeah, but you could hide the bodies out in the Flatlands dumps.”

“Here, the bodies will be found,” said Barrett. “But we won’t be.”

It was us they were talking about, with the objectivity of businessmen completing a routine transaction. In Barrett there wasn’t even the hint of remorse or conscience. Some folks, they say, are born incapable of those things. Often they behave beyond suspicion, those sick people, until it’s too late. Sometimes they’re good-looking, charming, intelligent. Maybe they liked to pull the wings off flies more than other kids. But boys will be boys. If they served in the Army they made lousy soldiers, complaining and griping all the time about discipline, until they got a taste of combat. They often won medals, then, and were afraid but didn’t go stiff and inadequate with fear like some of their buddies. They felt above the crowd. They were arrogant. Laws didn’t apply to them. They could kill you with an absolute lack of concern if it suited them. They were called psychopathic personalities, P.P.’s, and Barrett was one of them.

It looked as if we were going to die.

Nameless Brooklyn streets slipped by, white-mantled and silent. Five O’Clock seemed to know the neighborhood, braking for his turns automatically even though you could hardly see through the clouds of snow swirling at the windshield.

The car was long and black. A hearse.

We were riding to our own funeral in our own hearse and I thought I could probably open the door on my side and dive out into the snow, risking a broken bone, and get away. But there was Ken on the other side of Puggie, and Steffy sitting between Five O’Clock and Barrett.

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