Repairman.Jack.10.Harbingers.2006 by Wilson F Paul

Author:Wilson, F Paul [Wilson, F Paul]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

14

After Jack pressed Zeklos’s call button for the second time, a tiny voice came through the mini speaker.

“Who is there?”

Good. He was home.

“Jack. You know, the Heir head. We need to talk.”

The door buzzed open and Jack pushed through. Upstairs, on the second floor, he found Zeklos waiting in his apartment doorway.

“I am surprised to see you. Davis told me you were going away.”

“Change of plans.” He held up a grease-stained White Castle bag. “Hope you’re hungry. Burgers and coffee. Best burgers in the world.”

Jack meant that. He’d come over by way of the Manhattan Bridge so he could stop at the White Castle on Willoughby. Only about half a dozen stores in the city and Jack knew them all. Gia called them ratburgers, but he loved them. Figured they might be a treat for Zeklos. Nothing like sharing food to lull someone into opening up.

And Jack needed him to open up. What he really wanted to do was hog-tie him and grill him, but he’d learned last Friday night that Zeklos wasn’t easily pried. He’d have to be teased open.

Zeklos gave him a wary look. “Why do you bring me food?”

Jack was close enough now to smell the scotch on his breath. Going on another bender?

“Because I’m hungry and I don’t like to eat alone. You telling me you’ve had lunch already?”

Zeklos shook his head. “No. No lunch. 1 have no appetite.” jack pushed past him and headed toward the kitchenette.

“Cool. That means more for me. I could eat these suckers all day.”

He set the sack on the counter next to a bottle of Dewar’s scotch.

“Liquid lunch? Did I come at a bad time?”

Zeklos closed the door and waved his hands.

“No-no. I am just mashing the potato of happiness.”

Huh?

Jack decided not to ask. He unpacked the sack as he spoke.

“You mean about being moved down to the minors?”

More suspicion in his eyes. “How do you know this?”

“Miller was laughing about it.”

Not exactly true, but it worked. The suspicion retreated, replaced by a fearful resentment.

“Miller is glad to see me go. He hates me.”

“I’d look on being hated by a jerk as a badge of honor.” He held out a burger in its stiff-paper squarepants container. “Here. Try one.”

The combination of hearing Miller called a jerk and the aroma of a White Castle burger seemed to do it. Jack saw the tension go out of his shoulders as he examined the burger.

“So small.”

“Yep. That’s why you buy lots of them. Bet you can’t eat just one.”

Zeklos took a bite. Then another. A third bite finished it.

He spoke around a mouthful. “This is good. This is very good.”

“Have another. I bought plenty. And here’s a coffee.”

As they ate Jack debated his next step. Too early to bring up cyanide-tipped bullets. Better to stick with Zeklos himself.

“You know, one thing you never told me is why Miller’s got it in for you.”

Zeklos swallowed a big bite. “I do not think I should talk about that.”

“Why not? I’m the Heir, aren’t I? You heard Doc Oc say so himself.

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