The Deadliest Game: An Edward Mendez, P. I. Thriller by Gerard Denza

Author:Gerard Denza [Denza, Gerard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gerard Denza
Published: 2021-02-07T22:00:00+00:00

Eleven

EDWARD PARKED his car just across the street from the train station. He turned on the car radio. The P. I. listened to some Big Band music which was not his favorite, but it would do for the moment. He lit a cigarette. He was hoping that the token booth clerk was still on duty. But, what about the coming rush hour? How the hell were people supposed to get home? He put that thought out of his mind and got out of his Ford.

He walked over to the station holding on to his Fedora. The wind had picked up. He looked about the area: a couple of factories were nearby and the rest looked residential with a couple of apartment buildings thrown into the mix. A few teenagers were hanging around outside a candy store down the block.

Edward walked up the stairs to the elevated train platform and...yes! The clerk was still on duty.

-Good afternoon.

-Trains ain't running, Mister.

-I know. I'm not looking for a train. I'd like to talk to you.

-What about? You wouldn't be with the cops now, would you? Heard about that explosion in the tunnel. Terrible thing to happen. Couple of people 'round here think it's some kind of Commie plot.

Edward smiled. The thought of a Communist plot really wasn't so far fetched. It might even have a grain of truth to it. He heard the sound of a train approaching.

-It won't stop, Mister. Just passing through on its way to the yard.

Edward studied the man. He was about fifty-five with gray hair that was receding at the temples. He was wearing spectacles. He seemed like a good sort who was willing to be helpful if he could.

-Name's Edward Mendez. I'm a private investigator working with the police.

-Any news that I haven't heard on the radio?

-No. I think they've pretty well covered it.

-How can I help you, Mr. Mendez?

-You must see a lot of people coming through here every day. Mostly familiar faces, I bet.

-Mostly. But, a newcomer does come along once in a while.

-Mr.?

-Oh. Sorry about that. Barton Moran at your service.

-Barton, were there any newcomers this morning?

-Let me think for just a second. No.... Yes. There was one, Mr. Mendez. How could I forget? He was a tall figure of a fella'. Had on an overcoat and gloves. Real spiffy dresser.

-What else was he wearing?

-Scarf. It was a dark overcoat and one of those German style hats. In a big hurry, he was. He didn't actually come to my booth, mind you. I saw him walking on the train platform. Kinda' looked like he just got off the train coming in and was getting ready to board the one heading on out. He looked to be doing something.

-Doing what, Barton?

-Fiddling with a briefcase. Looked like an expensive one, too. I got an eye for the finer things.

Edward steadied himself.

-Barton, think...what did he look like? Any feature that someone would notice?

The clerk shook his head.

-You gotta' remember, Mr. Mendez, that this here was from a distance.

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