The Woman In Blue (Nick O'Brien Case Files) by David G. Johnson

Author:David G. Johnson [Johnson, David G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Noir Detective
Publisher: Faith X Fiction Press
Published: 2015-01-26T05:00:00+00:00

I step out of the taxi at the address Jimmy gave me for Abrams. I have exchanged my typical tan suit pants, suspenders, trenchcoat, and beige fedora for a dark gray, chalk-striped, double-breasted suit. Inside is a vest, a striped black and white tie, and to top it all off a black fedora with a wide silk band. It is the epitome of gangster-wear, and while I may look classier than my normal attire, I am as likely to be mistaken for one of Abram’s goons as I am a consultant for the DA. The obvious poke in the eye that this suit should bring to the conversation will hopefully rattle Abrams enough to make him more chatty than usual.

There is no room in this trimmer suit to hide my Colt and shoulder holster in their normal place, so I have it in a clip-on holster inside my pants at the small of my back. I have left the bottom buttons on the suit deliberately unbuttoned, ostensibly for fashion, but in reality it lets the suit jacket hang naturally enough to not draw attention to my hidden heater, and allows me quick access to it. I approach a nervous-looking chap, about six foot three and thin as a rail, pacing back and forth in front of the entrance to Abram’s driveway.

“You ADA Wilkins’s guy?”

After looking me up and down and doing a passable job of swallowing his own disapproving frown, the towering beanpole of a man answers.

“Yes, I’m ADA Wilkins’s assistant, George McVey. I take it you are Mr. O’Brien?”

“You got it. So we all square to meet with Abrams?”

His eyes twitch nervously as he eyes my provocative attire.

“Yes, I believe so. Again, I would caution you not to do anything to provoke Mr. Abrams. His patience is already worn thin with the police on this matter of his diamonds, and he was reluctant to agree to this meeting at all. Please try to be as brief as possible, and stay away from any…sensitive matters.”

“Oh, so you mean I shouldn’t ask about him being a criminal mastermind behind half the Boston Jewish mafia? I understand.” His scowl shows my humor is wasted on McVey.

McVey gets us inside and we are led to a lavishly-furnished study where a middle-aged, well-dressed man in an expensive Italian suit sits leisurely smoking a pipe in a plush velvet armchair. He is holding a snifter of what appears to be brandy in his left hand. I guess prohibition isn’t really enforced inside the home of mafia bosses. McVey pointedly ignores the glass as he makes the introductions, addressing the smoking man.

“Mr. Abrams, thank you again for agreeing to meet us. This is detective O’Brien from New York. He has a few questions regarding your diamonds and a possible link to one of their open cases. We won’t take any more of your time than is necessary.”

The sharply dressed man smiles a disingenuous smile.

“Not at all. Always happy to help the authorities. Please, have a seat. That’s quite a suit, Mr.

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