Ticket to Heaven by Duane Lindsay

Author:Duane Lindsay [Lindsay, Duane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-07-13T16:00:00+00:00

Pickman’s apartment is up north, in an area not nearly as nice as theirs, which in turn isn’t as nice as the skyrise mansions on the Michigan Avenue Gold Coast. It’s got a desk clerk who accepts a twenty to let her through, with instructions on which apartment is Pickman’s. Cassidy assumes the clerk assumes she’s here for personal reasons.

Which is true, she thinks, as she covers the spy hole on his door with her palm, I am here on personal business. She knocks gently and waits, and in a few seconds hears the usual, “I’m coming,” and the door opens. Pickman’s wearing a smoking jacket and a bright smile that turns to surprise when he sees her. Clearly, he’s expecting somebody else.

“Hello…Dick.” Cassidy pushes past him into a very nice apartment. The lights are turned down and there’s a fire burning real logs. A hi fi is playing Sinatra softly. She goes into the living room and sees two wine glasses and a plate of cheese and crackers on the coffee table in front of that fire.

“Expecting company?”

“Yes, but not yours.” Pickman seems annoyed to see her. “Come right in, why don’t you.”

“I did.” She looks around the cozy room. There are modern paintings on the walls, copies of Jackson Pollack and one she remembers from the museum stakeout but can’t place the name. There’s a small kitchen with what smells like a roast in the oven and she looks back at Pickman. “You cook?”

“I do. What do you want? I’m busy.”

“Company coming? You’re hoping to get lucky?”

“Luckier than I got with you.”

“You sound bitter. You really didn’t expect me to go to bed with you for that article, did you?”

“It was two articles, above the fold and yes, I most certainly did.”

“Is that what you’ve got going tonight? Some broad you did a favor for?”

“No,” he says.

But she hears the tone and laughs. “Sure, she is. I suspect that’s the only way you can get women, right Dick?”

“Screw you. Say what you came for and get out.” He pointedly checks his watch.

“I’ve come to negotiate, Dick. Stop running those articles on us.”

Pickman laughs, a nasty sound, like sandpaper on rough wood. “Not a chance. In fact, tomorrow’s piece is about you.”

“Is it anything true this time, or the same made-up bunch of crap as the others?”

He shrugs. “Truth, lies, innuendo, who’s to say where one stops and the next starts.”

“What you’re writing isn’t true, Pickman.”

“Of course it isn’t. Have you ever heard of the Big Lie?” He says it like the words are in caps. “It means that, if you tell a lie long enough, and loud enough, people will think it’s true.”

“Why would you do that? Because I wouldn’t sleep with you?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I had no intention of sleeping. A couple of ‘wham-bam-thank-you-ma’ams’ and I’d toss you back in the gutter.”

“How did I ever resist such a smooth-talker like you?”

“Say what you want and get out.”

“Fine. The articles have to stop. You’re ruining our reputations.”

“That’s right,” he said, sounding proud.

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