The Outfit (1963)+(1973) by Richard Stark

Author:Richard Stark [Stark, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Detective and Mystery Stories, General Interest, Mystery & Detective, Hard-Boiled, General, Criminals, Suspense, Crime, Suspense fiction, Fiction, Parker (Fictitious character)
ISBN: 9780226771014
Publisher: University Of Chicago Press
Published: 2008-09-01T04:55:44+00:00

"They never even got a beginning," Handy

said. He went over to the bureau and crushed

his cigarette in the ash tray. It sizzled. Then he

pulled a box of small-sized wooden matches

from his pocket, got one out, and stuck it in the

corner of his mouth. Between cigarettes, he

always sucked on a wooden match. He turned to

Parker and said, "You remember what I told

you after that job? I told you it was my last one.

I'm retiring."

Parker nodded. Handy quit after every job –

he'd been doing it for ten years or more.

"I mean it this time," Handy told him, as

though he knew what Parker was thinking. "I

been up in Presque Isle, Maine. They got them

an air force base up there, and I'm buying in on

a diner, right across the road from the main

gate. Open all night, I short-order a good egg

when I put my mind to it, so I'll work the nights

myself."

"Good luck."

"Damn right." Handy moved over and sat

down on the edge of the bed. "I been in the

business too long. I'm a lucky man, Parker. You,

too. Both of us, too damn lucky. But there's no

string goes on for ever, and I figure mine's just

about played out. I'll settle down in the Presque

Isle and short-order a few eggs and let the rest

of the world go by." He nodded, and prodded at

his teeth with the match.

Handy was wearing grey corduroy pants and

a red-and-black hunting jacket. Parker looked

at him and could imagine him running a diner,

but, at the same time, he knew Handy would

come back in whenever he was offered a seat in

the game. All the diner meant was that Handy

would be going back to the same place every

time from now on. But he wouldn't be turning

down any jobs that looked good. He'd driven

down to see Parker knowing nothing of the

reason for the summons, and his presence here

was proof that he wouldn't be short-ordering

eggs every night for the rest of his life.

Parker pulled the blind down over the window

and crossed the room to sit in the easy chair by

the bureau. "This isn't a job I called you about,"

he said. "Not the regular kind, anyway."

"What kind, then?"

Parker filled him in on what had happened,

the killer who'd missed, the letters to the pros,

taking care of Menner, and knocking over The

Three Kings.

Handy listened to it all, poking at his teeth

with the match, and when Parker was done he

said, "I been thinking. Out of the people I know,

there's at least eight'll be real happy to get that

letter of yours. They'll go right out and do jobs

they been thinking about all these years." He

grinned and nodded. "This Bronson and his

friends, I bet they're hurting right now."

"They'll hurt more." Parker lit a cigarette.

"Anyway, I know where Bronson is. I'm going

there."

"What else?"

"I could use a man beside me. I'm not in this

one for the dough, so I'll give you the take from

the poker game and The Three Kings. Forty-

two hundred. Plus whatever we pick up in

Bronson's house."

"I wasn't in on those two. Why give me the

dough from them?"

"Make it worth your while. Bronson may not

have much on him.

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