Birth of a Monster by Daniel Lawlis Read Free Book Online Page A

discreetly while leaving here. If you get
busted by the NDP outside these walls, there’s nothing I can do for
you. Is there George?” he added with a wink at Righty, who then
looked at George, the man he was to pay a million falons to in just
over a week.
     
    “We’ll be discreet, chief,” Righty
said. The chief and George then left Righty alone with his
men.
     
    “Crabs, you drive. Everyone else in the
back. Drop me off at the city park.”
     
    Crabs asked no questions. He just
hopped onto the front of the coach like a rabbit.
     
    Righty was immeasurably glad his
rough-handed humiliation had not occurred before the eyes of his
subordinates.
     
    As he and the others piled into the
wagon, the mood continued its contradiction of hope mixed with
apprehension.
     
    As soon as the wagon pulled out and had
made it a safe distance from the police station, Righty addressed
those in the wagon.
     
    “I’m not in the best frame of mind
right now to have a detailed discussion about this. All I want to
say is I don’t personally blame anyone here. There was a bit of a
misunderstanding with the chief, and I believe everything has been
straightened out. Tats, we’ll meet tonight at your
north-by-northeast mansion at 11 p.m. to talk some more. Be alone
in your backyard.”
     
    “Yes, sir,” Tats said.
     
    No one else dared utter a word until
Righty was dropped off at the park, at which point they began to
nervously discuss their fates before Tats quickly hushed
them.
     

Chapter 16
     
    There was a part of Righty that felt he
was on the verge of one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He
knew that if he were to sit down and think in a cold, calculating
manner about what he was going to do he would likely think of some
seemingly shrewder, more cautious, delayed approach. One that would
seem wiser. But that wouldn’t be.
     
    Like a man reeling from a slap who
knows he has to hit back and hit back hard, lest he forever be
branded an easy target for ridicule and derision, Righty knew this
was a time for action. He thought briefly about going over to the
Sivingdel Boxing Association, finding their annals, and burning
them, but what would the point be?
     
    If Chief Benson already knew his ring
name, he could get his real name pretty easily from most of the
people at the boxing association even if Righty burned every last
one of their records. It had been less than two decades since his
boxing days were abruptly and infamously ended.
     
    The real issue was Benson. He had to be
brought to heel, but not just yet. He was on the priority list, but
there were two men above it. Furthermore, Righty was proud to have
his name in the boxing annals, and he wasn’t going to destroy those
when destroying—or bringing to heel—a man would be far more
pleasurable and useful.
     
    Dangerous storm clouds were inside
Righty’s head, a system of nasty funnels beginning to swirl and
spelling danger for all those in the way.
     
    He had reached the forest and was
thudding along a pathway, his mind set on finding solitude,
climbing a tree, and reaching Harold.
     
    “Hey you,” a voice said.
     
    Righty turned.
     
    It was the cop he had passed earlier
that day. The funnels were spinning viciously now.
     
    “Mind if I see some
identification?”
     
    “What for, officer?” Righty
inquired.
     
    “Well, first of all, I don’t really
like your attitude. I could smell it about twenty feet away, and
it’s the second time I’ve seen you traipsing around these woods in
a single afternoon. I just want to know who you are.”
     
    “I like exercise,” Righty said. “And I
don’t carry identification. It might get stolen.”
     
    “You like exercise walking around in
those kinds of clothes with those kinds of boots, and you’re in
this big of a hurry? Turn around, you punk. I’m bringing you
in.”
     
    “Sure thing, officer,” Righty said. He
turned around, unsheathed his sword, and spun around slicing the
officer in two. Not