A Diet of Treacle by Lawrence Block Read Free Book Online Page B

he should have collared the little bastard on the street instead of taking chances. Next time he would know better.
    “Okay,” Samuelson said, finally. “I guess you’re clean.”
    Shank smiled.
    “When did you make me?” the detective asked casually.
    Shank shrugged. His eyes said he could not possibly be familiar with what the cop was talking about but the cop knew better.
    “When you turned around,” the cop said, reflecting aloud. “Sure. You already had cigarettes. I should have known—I saw you with one before you got on the subway. And you didn’t throw away an empty pack. I should have picked you up the minute you walked into the drugstore.”
    Shank smiled again.
    “I was working close,” the cop said, rubbing his nose ruefully. “I should have figured on you spotting me but I thought I was clear. How did you happen to notice me?”
    “You were lousy,” Shank summed it up.
    For a minute the cop looked as though he were ready to explode. Then his features relaxed.
    “You won this round,” he said. “How many more do you think you’ll win?”
    “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
    “The hell you don’t. You’ll know what I’m talking about when we get you, punk, and don’t think we’re not going to get you sooner or later. You were clean until today. We didn’t know you were alive. Now we know and we won’t forget until we nail the lid on.”
    Shank kept silent.
    “Sooner or later you’ll be holding and we’ll be on to you. Sooner or later you’ll slip and we’ll grab you. We’ll watch you so hard you won’t be able to hit the toilet without looking over your shoulder to see who’s there.”
    “Yeah?”
    “Yeah,” the cop said.
    “You try to watch every guy who’s selling and you’ll need more men than you got on the whole force. You got any idea how many guys are selling?”
    “A fair idea.”
    “Lots of them, aren’t there?”
    “Too many.”
    “Well, how are you gonna—”
    “We won’t watch ‘em all,” the cop said. “Just the ones we know about. And we know about you.”
    Shank said nothing for a moment. He was enjoying the conversation but at the same time he was annoyed the cops were on to him.
    “What the hell,” Shank said. “I don’t know what you’re so burned about. I wasn’t holding anyway.”
    The cop laughed again.
    “I wasn’t,” Shank defended himself. “I—”
    “You took a good three ounces off the Mau-Mau,” the cop said. “Probably more. And in case you’re wondering, we busted the Mau-Mau just after you left. It’s the third time for him, the third intent rap, and this means the Mau-Mau has a home for the rest of his life as a guest of the United States Government. You might want to think about that for a while.”
    The cop left.
    Two hours later Shank smashed Mrs. Herman Rodjinckszi’s mailbox with a hammer and reclaimed the envelope.
     
     
     

Chapter   5
     
     
       The Hoi Polloi is a small Chinese restaurant one flight above the street on Eighth Street off Sixth Avenue. Anita Carbone had never been there before, but now she was eating pork with Chinese vegetables. Although the food was good, its taste was lost on her. Something very strange was happening to her and she was doing her best to keep up with it, to figure out what was going on.
    Joe Milani sat opposite Anita and filled his mouth with chicken chow mein, washing it down with tea. Soon, she knew, the meal would be finished and the waiter would present her with the check. And she would pay it.
    She had never bought dinner for a boy before. When she went out to dinner with a date, he paid for the meal. No young man had ever so much as asked her to pay her own way, let alone to swing the entire check.
    But this was different, Anita felt. She had picked up Joe Milani all by herself. He had been sitting alone, and she had found him, and otherwise they would never have been sitting at the same table in the Hoi Polloi.
    Of course, she argued with