Cat on a Cold Tin Roof by Mike Resnick Read Free Book Online Page A

and bank robbers and the like.”
    â€œIt’s what I live for,” I assured her, and returned to my car.
    I got hungry on the way back—which made sense; all I’d had since yesterday morning was a pair of uncooked hot dogs, without even buns—so I stopped by a Bob Evans, sat down at a booth, and ordered a cup of coffee and a breakfast of steak and eggs without bothering to read the menu, since it was the same in all ten thousand Bob Evans restaurants, or however many there were in the Cincinnati area.
    The waitress—I haven’t gotten around to calling them “servers” yet—brought the coffee, and as I was adding a little cream, just to bring out the subtle nuances of the flavor, a short, burly, well-muscled man with a thick shock of coal-black hair and a matching black mustache sat down across from me.
    â€œWe should talk, Mr. Paxton,” he said.
    â€œYou’ve been watching me and following me since I got out of jail, and you’ve decided based on that that I’m a sterling conversationalist?” I said.
    He grinned. “You’re as good as they say you are, Mr. Paxton.”
    â€œThank them for me.”
    â€œMaybe we can do some business and you can thank them yourself, Mr. Paxton.”
    â€œCall me Eli. And who do I have the honor of speaking to?”
    â€œVal Sorrentino,” he said, extending his hand. “From Chicago.”
    â€œNot Cicero?” I said, taking his hand.
    â€œWell, I go home at night.”
    â€œWhy have you sought me out, Val Sorrentino?” I asked.
    â€œBecause you’re working for Velma Palanto,” he said.
    â€œIf she’s who I think she is, she fired me and had me arrested yesterday morning.”
    â€œHah! I knew it!” Suddenly he grinned at me. “That’s why we can do some business together—because you’re not working for her.”
    â€œI’m not working for Warren Buffett either,” I said. “How much is that worth?”
    He threw back his head and laughed. “I like you, Eli!” he said. “We’re gonna get along fine together.”
    â€œExcuse me for asking,” I said, “but what do you think we’re going to be doing while we’re getting along fine together?”
    He looked around to make sure no one was listening.
    â€œI belong to a certain family that I suspect you’re not unfamiliar with, since you spent some time on the Chicago Police Force a while back.”
    â€œIt’s possible,” I replied.
    â€œAnyway, this family employed a financial wizard named James Palanto. Big Jim, we called him.”
    â€œI believe I’ve heard the name in the last couple of days,” I said.
    â€œA few members of my family . . . ,” he began carefully.
    â€œDistant cousins, no doubt,” I said.
    He smiled. “Absolutely. No one I ever met personally, of course.”
    â€œOf course,” I agreed.
    â€œAnyway, these distant cousins have been unfairly charged with committing a series of . . . well, boyish pranks.”
    Like murder, drug dealing, and extortion , I thought, but I managed not to say anything.
    â€œAnd while Big Jim Palanto set off on his own with the family’s blessing quite a few years ago, word has reached them that these totally corrupt accusers . . .”
    The Chicago cops , I thought.
    â€œ. . . planned to subpoena him and get him to testify against them, who of course Palanto loved like brothers.”
    I frowned. “If you came here to make sure he didn’t testify, why are you wasting time talking to me? Why aren’t you back in Chicago?”
    â€œYou cut me to the quick, Mr. Paxton,” he said.
    â€œEli,” I corrected him.
    â€œI didn’t off him,” he continued, forgetting to be circumspect. “I was here to sound him out, and he convinced me he wasn’t going to implicate nobody for nothing.”
    â€œSo you didn’t put him