Witch Rhymes With ... by Larry Kent

Author:Larry Kent
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: detective fiction, hard boiled, spillane, thriller book, piccadilly publishing, don haring, larry kent, noir crime crime
Publisher: Piccadilly

Chapter 7 ... the sexless piranha ...

At twenty after eight there was still plenty of parking space on the street near Earl’s Court Discotheque. I backed the Corvette in, stopped the engine. But before I could get out of the car, someone rapped on the passenger side window. It was Anne Salem. I reached over to unlock the door and she got in.

“Let’s get away from here,” she said.

I twisted the ignition key. “What’s wrong?”

“Earl left the club about half an hour ago. Hurry, please, I don’t want any of the club employees to see me with you.”

I turned out of the parking space, gunned the engine. Anne twisted around as we moved away from the club entrance.

“Good,” she said. “I don’t think anyone saw me. I was worried when Earl left the club. I didn’t know how to let you know without giving away the fact that we’d met before. And if that happened, one of Earl’s men would have been sure to tell him.”

“You’re really afraid of that guy, aren’t you?” I made it a statement rather than a question.

“I have reason to be,” she said.

I let a few moments go by.

“Where do you want me to take you?” I asked.

“Seventy-Third Street, between Lexington and Third Avenue—”

“Right.”

“I was in Earl’s office just before he left the club,” she said after a moment. “He received a phone call. I couldn’t hear what the caller said, but I’m sure it was a stranger to Earl. It seemed to me that he was very careful about what he said.”

“He’d be careful what he said in front of you, wouldn’t he, if it was one of his girl friends?”

“This wasn’t that kind of a call. I just know it wasn’t.”

“Go on.”

“He was worried, Larry. Whatever was said to him over the phone, it shook him up. And it wasn’t my imagination—I know how Earl reacts to things.”

“What did he say over the phone?”

“He listened for the most part. He said things like ‘Is that a fact?’ ... ‘Are you sure about that?’—things that mean nothing in themselves. He kept his voice at a natural level—he even smiled—but I knew he was rattled.”

“How did he end the call?”

“I think he made an appointment to meet the caller. I heard him say ‘Where?’—and then, after a moment, ‘All right’.”

“What did he say to you?”

“He made a remark about the night-club business being a constant headache. About people being too stupid to make simple decisions on their own. Then he said he had to leave the club, that he mightn’t be back until eleven or twelve if at all. A moment later he told me he had a lot of business to discuss over the phone before he left the club. This meant he wanted to be alone, so I left his office and sat down at the bar. About fifteen minutes passed, then two men entered the club and went to Earl’s office. Tough-looking men. I’d seen them before in the club. All I know about them is that one is named Greg.

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