All Our Yesterdays (1994) by Parker Robert B

All Our Yesterdays (1994) by Parker Robert B

Author:Parker, Robert B [B, Parker, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-03-15T17:29:39.906000+00:00


Gus

Town Liquors was in Thompson Square, part of a brick strip mall that developers claimed would help upscale Charlestown. The plate glass window was full of big white tear sheets scrawled with splashy Magic Marker announcements of how cheaply you could buy Canadian Club, or Miller beer. Billy waited in the car while Gus went in.

"Butchie around?" Gus said.

The counter clerk was a thin, pale guy with a potbelly and too little hair combed sadly over too much scalp. He wore sunglasses.

"Sure, Captain, in back. You know the way, I guess. Huh?"

Gus went past the counter and through the back room stacked with beer cases and into another room that had been partitioned off with plywood and left unpainted. The door was green, obviously from another incarnation, and it hung on big strap hinges. There was a padlock hasp, but no padlock. He didn't knock. The geek at the counter would have hit a button.

Butchie O'Brien was sitting in a big green leather swivel chair behind a big gray steel executive desk with two telephones and a loose-leaf calendar on it. A lamp with a big green shade hung from the ceiling over him.

"How you doing, Gus?" Butchie said. "Have a seat."

Butchie nodded at a gray metal chair with a darker gray seat cushion. He was taller than Gus and slender, with a nearly bald head and a good tan, and his movements were graceful and economical. He wore a wide handlebar moustache, which was mostly gray. He had on a colorful sweater, and a diamond ring on his little finger.

"Sorry about Corky," Gus said.

Butchie's tan face didn't change expression. He nodded.

"You see him?" he said.

"Yeah."

"Somebody worked him over pretty bad before they shot him," Butchie said.

Gus nodded.

"You on it?" Butchie said.

"It's a homicide," Gus said.

"And you're the homicide commander," Butchie said. "You got anything?"

"No," Gus said. "You?"

"Family matter, Gus. We got theories. We're exploring."

Gus shrugged. Butchie's eyes were pale blue, and flat, like the surface of a beach pebble.

"I mean it, Gus. Nobody treats one of us that way and walks. You unnerstand?"

"Sure," Gus said.

Butchie looked at his desk calendar, then leaned forward to study it.

"Well, by God," he said. "About that time of the month isn't it?"

Gus didn't say anything. Butchie didn't expect him to. He took out some keys and unlocked one of the desk drawers and took out a metal cash box. He opened it. Took out some bills, closed the cash box, and put it away. He put the bills in an envelope, and tucked the flap in without sealing it.

"Here you go, Gus," Butchie said, and held out the envelope. Gus took it and slid it into his inside pocket without counting the money. Gus never counted it in front of Butchie, and Butchie never shorted him. There are rules for everything.

"I won't be able to come to the wake," Gus said.

"I unnerstand, Gus. It wouldn't look right. You come across anything you'll let us know."

"Sure," Gus said.

"Best to the missus," Butchie said.



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