Tomorrow's Crimes (2013, Jerry eBooks) by Donald E. Westlake

Author:Donald E. Westlake [Westlake, Donald E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Jerry eBooks
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

XI

L.L. Goss was a short, stocky, rumpled man standing in the middle of a stuffed, square, rumpled room and trying to decide what expression he should have on his face while greeting the brother of a dead man he used to know. He seemed to be the compulsively friendly type, and a cheerful hail fellow sort of grin struggled on his face with a solemn and mournful funeral parlor wince. Since he’d been Gar’s supervisor, a remote official

detachment also strove for command of his features, but with little success.

“Mr. Malone,” he said, and pumped my hand. “Your brother talked about you a lot, Talked about you a lot.”

-Did he?”

“I was looking forward to meeting you,” he assured me, talking all in a rush, continuing to hold my hand as though he’d forgotten it was there. “Expected big things from the Malone brothers, big things. Could hardly wait to see you walk in, bur not under these conditions. No, not under these conditions.”

“I feel the same way,” I said.

“Of course you do. Of course you do.” Still holding my hand, he led me deeper into the room and told me twice to sit down in one of two facing plastic chairs. When I had done so, and he had released my hand at last and sat facing me, he said, with solemnity now in charge of his face, “It was a really tragic thing, I assure you. Tragic. Gar had a brilliant mind. Yes, and a great future ahead of him. It’s hard to believe a man so vibrant is gone, hard to believe.”

“Bur he is gone,” I said. I didn’t want eulogies, with or without a second copy. I could supply myself all the eulogies I wanted concerning Gar.

The solemn face gave way for a while to the remote official face as he said, “Colonel Whistler tells me you understand there’s no job opening for you at the moment, now that your brother is no longer with the corporation.”

No longer with the corporation. What a phrase. I said, “I realize that.’

“Certainly. Certainly.”

“I’m not here for a job. I’m here to find out what happened.”

Goss got to his feet, looking away from me, saying, “Yes, yes, perfectly natural. Under the circumstances, perfectly natural.” He was roaming around the room, peering here and there on littered tables, not looking at me, saying, “I can understand how you feel, the shock of it—Ah, there it is!” He picked up a pipe and showed it to me, the hail fellow grin finally flashing out at me unrestrained. “Never find this thing,” he said. “Never find it.”

I said, “I want to know the details.”

“Only to be expected,” he muttered, busy now filling his pipe. “Only to be expected. Anything I can do to help, anything at all—”

“You can tell me about it.”

He stopped fussing with the pipe, looked sharply at me with a wary look I hadn’t seen in his face before, then went back to the pipe. “I’ll be glad to, glad to. Whatever I know.

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