Thick as Thieves by Patrick Quinn

Author:Patrick Quinn [Quinn, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-0-307-81589-7
Publisher: Crown
Published: 2012-03-22T00:00:00+00:00

13

RODNEY carefully aimed the pistol and pulled the trigger. The plastic dart shot out of the child’s gun and slapped into a centerfold pinned to the wall of Showalter’s office at the club. The dart hung there for a moment, trembling, then fell to the floor. Rodney grinned. “Tit shot,” he said.

“Her name is Alice,” Showalter rumbled from behind his desk. “She used to dance for me.”

Mackin smiled. “So that’s the deal.” He and Maggie had returned from Chicago that afternoon. He pointed to the sheet of paper he had received from Frank Riles. “Bottom line is, there’s money up there. I’m gonna go up there and get some of it. You in or out?”

“In,” Showalter said. He looked at Rodney, who was fitting another dart into the pistol. “How about it, bro? You in or out?”

“Fuck yes, I’m in. Got me a new old lady, she’s spoiled and she’s expensive. I’m in.” Rodney fired again at the centerfold and winced. “Looked like that one hurt.”

Mackin looked concerned. “Rodney, don’t get me wrong on this, but—”

The younger man interrupted him. “You worried that maybe I don’t want to knock this shithead down ’cause he’s a black shithead? Black power, racial solidarity, all that sixties shit? Fuck that. Pointy Williams never did shit for me. We partners or what?”

Mackin nodded. “All the way.”

“Then I’m in. Let’s go make some money.”

“You’re an evil Negro, Rodney,” Showalter growled equitably. “I feel better about myself when I think about you.”

“Ain’t nothing ought to make you feel good about yourself, you goddamn white-trash pornographer.” Rodney pointed the gun across the desk and shot Showalter in the chest with his last dart. “I was a good little churchgoing boy when I met you two, and look at me now. I’m a goddamn unapprehended felon.”

“Eddie will have wallet sets for both of you tomorrow night,” Mackin interrupted. “I’d like you to drive up there the next day. There’s a town called Easton, it’s really just a suburb, that’s only one interstate exit out of Williams’s territory. Different jurisdiction, though. There’s a Holidome just off the highway; get a motel room there and wait for me.” He dropped an envelope on Showalter’s desk. “There’s a couple grand there for expenses. I’ll be up day after that, probably.” He stood up and headed for the door.

“Mackin.” Showalter spoke from behind his desk. “When do I get my bartender back?”

Mackin smiled and opened the door. “Couple more days, Bo. We’re having fun.”

Rodney leered. “That Maggie, she’s a hot little thing.”

Showalter spoke again, his tone now serious. “What should we haul up there?”

Mackin wasn’t smiling anymore. “Take a lot, Bo. I am. Might need it.” He stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Rodney stood and walked over to where the darts had landed on the floor. He bent over to retrieve them. “Mackin is truly pissed at this Williams clown,” he said conversationally. “I wonder if he’ll kill him.”

Showalter shook his head. “Not right away.” He picked up the envelope and tucked it in his pocket.

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