American Skin
- Автор: Бруен Кен
- Год: 2008
- Язык: английский
- Год: Brandon
- ISBN: 978-0-86322-379-2
- Жанр: Криминальные детективы
Электронная книга - «American Skin». Краткое содержание книги:
Sweat was pouring down my front, I said,
“If you’ve hurt her...”
He gave a sigh, then,
“You’re off again, why would we hurt her, she’s our leverage... for our money.”
I couldn’t help it, echoed,
“Your money?”
Now he went Barry Fitzgerald mode,
“Sure and whose t’would it be?”
A fun guy.
I said,
“If Siobhan’s hurt, you’ll never see a bloody cent.”
He took a moment, then,
“Am I hearing hostility?”
When I left the black hole, that is, didn’t answer, he said,
“The said Siobhan wasn’t inclined to chat but eventually, she sang like a blackbird, the money scam, meeting you in Tucson... are you still up for that?”
My mind was reeling, I tried,
“And you’re planning to tag along?”
He laughed, said,
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, I don’t see you returning to us, call it an intuition.”
I let my rage flow:
“Bring it on, shithead, I’ll be there, waiting for you.”
A sigh, as if I disappointed him, then,
“I’m still hearing those negative waves, you need to get a handle on that, boyo.”
I crashed the phone down.
Stood, turned on the TV... Friends... I watched without a single reaction. An enclyclopedia salesman was trying to sell a volume to Joey, going,
“How is your general knowledge?”
Seeing Joey’s blank face, he tried,
“Where does the Pope live?”
Not missing a beat, Joey replied,
“In the woods.”
I switched off, got on the phone, took time, but eventually, got one of Siobhan’s friends. Not encouraging, Siobhan hadn’t been seen for two weeks, hadn’t shown up for work.
After the call, I said aloud,
“She’s dead.”
But what if she wasn’t? She’d no way of contacting me, if she had escaped from them, she’d try to make the Tucson rendezvous. Either way, I’d have to go... I wanted to meet Stapelton... Jesus, did I ever.
I dialled another number, Siobhan’s home. A long shot but if she needed to hide, anything was possible; her father answered, sounded like he always did, gruff, belligerent, drunk. I asked,
“Is Siobhan around?”
“Who?”
“Your daughter, Siobhan, have you seen her?”
A pause and for a brief moment, my spirits lifted... maybe... then,
“I haven’t clapped an eye on her these three years, with a bit of luck, it will be three more.”
Closed him down.
The room was oppressive, my mind riddled with poison, I got out of there, walked quickly back to the Sahara, Bob was still at the bar, said,
“Hey, hey, you changed your mind.”
I ordered two shots of bourbon, nudged one over to Bob, said,
“I need your help.”
He lifted his glass, touched it to mine, said,
“You got it, good buddy.”
“info freako”