Nacho Unleashed by Laurence Shames

Author:Laurence Shames [Shames, Laurence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
Publisher: Author
Published: 2019-02-08T05:00:00+00:00

19

W ith the hard heel of his enormous hand, Rocco hammered on the steel door of Mikel Shintar’s lab. The dull clang of flesh on metal echoed through the dark and empty distillery. After a pause just long enough to be annoying, Shintar’s pinched and nasal voice said, “Who is it.”

Carlo said, “Cut the shit and let us in, Mikel.”

The chemist decided not to push his luck with the password routine, but he still looked through the peephole. Then he opened the door just wide enough for his visitors to pass through and locked it again once they were inside. “How are you?” he asked his business partner.

“Not happy,” said Costanza.

Rocco and Max puffed up a bit at this, stretching to full height, crossing their arms against their chests, pressing out with their knuckles to make their biceps bulge. They were pros and they knew what was expected. If their boss was unhappy, it was their job to remind others that there could be consequences to his discontent. So they held their menacing poses even though Max’s attention had been suddenly distracted; while glowering around the room, he’d noticed Shintar’s test tubes and it occurred to him that they would make the most adorable bud vases. Ever since his and Rocco’s heart-to-heart out on their deck, he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the florist shop of his dreams. Everywhere he went, he got ideas for new arrangements, corsages, boutonnieres, ways of interweaving greens and blooms. Now he was thinking that six test tubes in a wooden rack, each one holding a different flower bedded in soft loam, would make a smashing centerpiece. Industrial. Contemporary…

Shintar said to Costanza, “Sorry you’re not at your sunniest.” He gestured around at his beakers and pipettes. “Shall I whip you up a little anti-depressant?”

“No time for jokes, Mikel. We got a problem. The Feds have been sniffing around.”

“Your Feds or mine?”

“Mine. The IRS. But a guy I know, a very shrewd guy in my opinion, has suggested it’s only logical that at some point they’ll come sniffing your way too.”

Shintar shrugged. That was Shintar, always blasé. Devoid of conscience, he didn’t fret about whether he was doing right or wrong; he didn’t even worry much if he’d get caught. To him, the only question that really mattered was whether the charges would stick, and in his arrogance he believed they never would. He’d believed this even when they were leading him away to prison, and he’d believed it at the outset of every failed appeal. Strangely, these multiple experiences of being flat dead wrong had done nothing at all to dent his confidence. “So let ‘em sniff,” he said breezily. “I don’t see where we’ve committed any crimes so far. Is there suddenly a law against losing money?”

If the quip was intended to brighten Costanza’s mood, it didn’t help. “And that’s another thing, Mikel. How much longer you expect me to bankroll your fun and games in here? All I hear from you is I’m close, I’m close.

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