Death Wore Gloves
Page 20
50
Friday
A sharp knock on the door punctured the rumble of thunder and Willow’s mind flickered briefly to Kathy Bucknell and Poe’s raven…“‘Tis some visitor.’ I muttered…” Willow said, “All right,” and Lieutenant Buck Curtin came in, blowing on his hands, his teeth chattering. He growled, “Cocksucker of a night out there.”
Willow shrugged. “Only fifty-some shopping days till Christmas.”
Curtin stood in the center of the room, water dripping from the brim of his shapeless hat, his hands stuffed into his hip pockets. “We watched her come out. That broad moves like a cat.”
Willow said, “Yeah, and she’s just that crafty.”
“Her Mercedes is parked up the street. I got two guys tagging her and two more at her car. They’ll make the collar and go through the automobile. She isn’t armed, is she?”
“Hell, yes, she’s armed! She has an orchid tattooed on her ass!”
“Well, she sure ain’t gonna kill nobody with that.”
Willow frowned. “You don’t think so?”
Curtin was peering at Willow. “Regrets?”
“All the precincts aren’t in.”
“Uh-huh, well, don’t get moody. You’ve been cooperative and we’re gonna repair your Buick.”
“You’re gonna do a helluva lot better than that. I get pipes, rubber, and paint or you get another witness. Furthermore, I sue for whiplash.”
“Whiplash? Why, the only whiplash you ever got was from eating pussy! You weren’t even in that fucking pile of iron!”
“Yeah, you know that, and I know that, but nobody else knows that!”
“Okay, Willow, we’ll work it out. What color paint job?”
“You’re buying, you name it.”
“Hey, how’s purple? That way people will think you’re a pimp.”
“Why not blue and white? That way they’ll think I’m a whore.”
“Aw, c’mon, Willow. What you got against cops?”
“Nothing that I can’t prove.”
“You catch it all?”
Willow pulled the little tape recorder from a pocket of his jacket draped on the couch. He handed it to Curtin. “The whole shot.”
“She said enough?”
“Plenty. She talked up a storm.”
“Don’t feel bad, Willow. You know the Illinois justice system. She’ll be out in five years.”
“Then in five years I’d better be in fucking Tokyo.”
Curtin glanced at the Heffernan-Reese on the floor. “That’s the weapon?”
“That’s it.” He tossed the silencer to Curtin. “Her ammo’s in the bathroom flush-box.”
“Hey, Willow, tell me something.”
“Sure, I know damned near everything.”
“You could have taken her yourself, you had her cold turkey. Why didn’t you?”
“That’s one of the things I don’t know.”
Curtin yawned. “Well, anyway, you done real good. I’ll give you a lift home.”
“Decent of you.”
“Want a cool one on the way?”
“Probably.”
“Where should we stop?”
“Suit yourself.”
Curtin said, “How’s Raponi’s?”
“No, not Raponi’s, not tonight.”
“Hey, that’s a real nice joint! How come not Raponi’s?”
“How come not Raponi’s? Jesus H. Christ, Curtin, it’s Friday night!”
More from Ross H. Spencer
Kirby's Last Circus
When the CIA chooses Birch Kirby, a mediocre detective with a personal life even less thrilling than his professional one, no one is more surprised by the selection than Birch himself. But the Agency needs someone for a secret mission, and Birch may be just the clown for the job. Going undercover as a circus performer, he travels to Grizzly Gulch to investigate the source of daily, un-decodeable secret messages that are being transmitted to the KGB. Birch interacts with wildly colorful characters while stumbling through performances as well as his assignment. With the clock ticking, Birch must hurry to take a right step toward bringing the curtain down on this very important case.
The Lacey Lockington Series
The Fifth Script
Detective Lacey Lockington always gets the job done, but making the omelets of solved cases usually involves breaking a lot of eggs. So when Lacey gets suspended after tabloid columnist Stella Starbright names him as a “kill-crazy cop,” he has to find new work as a private investigator. It’s a step down, for sure, and one of his first cases is an unlikely one: former “Stella Starbrights” are turning up dead on the streets of Chicago, and the current one, the reputation ruiner herself, turns to an unlikely source for protection.
Going against his gut, Lacey agrees to keep tabs on Stella to keep her from sharing the grisly fate of her former namesakes. In the midst of all the madness, Lacey hunts the real killer, someone looking to silence gossip columnists for good. But can Lacey crack the case before another victim makes a different section of the newspapers?
Sex…violence…booze! This deadly mix will keep you on the edge of your seat in Ross Spencer’s jaded-but-jaunty tale about a hardened cop with nothing but his reputation to lose.
The Devereax File
Former cop, now private investigator, Lacey Lockington gets lured into a case of something less smooth than his usual tipple: the death of his old drinking buddy and ex-CIA agent Rufe Devereaux. No sooner does he start his investigation than he finds himself chased by the Mafia, hunted by the CIA, stalked by a politician-turned-evangelist out to kill him and “helped” by the sultry Natasha, a KGB agent who always knows more than she lets on. Sucked into the dangerous world of international espionage, Lacey knows he is in way over his head. What started as a search for the truth behind his friend’s death turns into a whirlwind tour that leads Lacey from the gritty bars of Chicago to Miami’s cocaine-filled underbelly and culminates in an explosive ending that must be read to be believed!
The Fedorovich File
The Cold War heats up when trouble comes knocking on the door of ex-cop turned Private Eye Lacey Lockington. Lacey is hot on the trail of Alexi Fedorovich after the high-ranking general publishes a controversial exposé detailing that Glasnost/Perestroika is a hoax. Federovich goes into hiding in the last place he suspects someone will look for him—somewhere in Youngstown, Ohio.
For someone who’s pretty much seen and done it all, Lacey’s unnerved when he starts dealing with Russian spies, Federal Agents, a man who doesn’t want to be found, and an increasing body count of all his leads. Will Lacey, along with former KGB agent and live-in lover Natasha, get to the bottom of it all before Fedorovich finds himself on the wrong end of a firing squad?
The Chance Purdue Series
The Dada Caper
Chance Purdue may be better at a lot of things than he is at detecting, but he’s the only man for the job when the FBI comes looking for someone to take on the Soviet-inspired DADA conspiracy.
Plus, he needs a paycheck. Chance gets off to a rough start as he’s led a merry chase through Chicago’s underbelly and drawn into a case of deception that can only be solved with the help of a mysterious femme fatale who’s as beautiful as she is cunning.
The Reggis Arms Caper
Try as he may, Chance Purdue can’t seem to escape the world of private investigation. The now tavern owner returns to action to protect Princess Sonia of Kaleski, who claims to be the wife of an old Army buddy. Convinced he’ll get to the bottom of things at his Army battalion’s reunion, Chance indulges in the entertainment while leaving the more serious detective work to his new colleague, the scintillating Brandy Alexander. For Chance, the case provides more fun than intrigue, and yet its solution is a surprise for everyone involved.
The Stranger City Caper
A quick and easy buck sounds good to Private Investigator Chance Purdue. But the paycheck seems to be a bit harder to earn when the job entails more than j
ust looking into the a minor league baseball team in southern Illinois. His new client, the gangster Cool Lips Chericola, is definitely leaving out details. Enter Brandy Alexander, whose unexpected appearance in Stranger City, Illinois complicates things. Then throw in the Bobby Crackers’ Blitzkrieg for Christ religious crusade, and you’ve got a super-charged powderkeg of a caper, with Chance holding both the match and the barrel.
The Abu Wahab Caper
What happens when Chicago detective Chance Purdue is hired to protect a gambler with a target on his head? For starters, all hell breaks loose…
“Bet-a-Bunch” Dugan is being hunted by International DADA (Destroy America, Destroy America) conspirators, a terrorist organization out for control of the world’s oil market. Dugan needs more than a little luck to walk away unscathed. He needs a Chance, and though he knows that half of Purdue’s reputation is that of a guy you are aching to punch, the other half is that he’s a dogged, if occasionally doomed, investigator.
No matter where Purdue’s leads take him, though, he always seems to be one step behind DADA. As a hapless Chance watches DADA’s deadly scheme move forward, a siren named Brandy Alexander enters the picture and things finally fall into place, or so Chance hopes...
The Radish River Caper
Private Investigator Chance Purdue and Brandy Alexander work in tandem on a case that finds them traveling to the Illinois town of Radish River. The CIA continues to need help putting a stop to the DADA (Destroy America, Destroy America) Conspiracy, a terrorist organization whose latest plot is completely under wraps, except that it promises immense destruction. Things prove difficult for Chance and Brandy as they do what they can to remain focused on the task at hand. But it’s hard when distractions from football-playing gorillas, chariot races, copious booze—and especially each other—weave in and out of their lives and keep this case on the back burner.
Connect with Diversion Books
Connect with us for information on new titles and authors from Diversion Books, free excerpts, special promotions, contests, and more:
@DiversionBooks
www.Facebook.com/DiversionBooks
Diversion Books eNewsletter