Darkman by Randall Boyll Read Free Book Online Page B

long day.
    The receptionist connected her directly to Pappas, whom Julie assumed was just on his way out and headed for court. He clicked on. “Pappas.”
    “Yeah,” Julie said, thinking hard. “This is Julie Hastings, Mr. Pappas. I found a memo while I was researching the Von Hoffenstein deal I don’t think I was supposed to find. It’s from the late Mr. Strack to a guy named Claude Bellasarious. It’s a record of payments to various people on the zoning commission.”
    His reply was curt. “Bribes.”
    “Well, they do look like payoffs. What I’d like to do is talk to Strack’s son first, give him the benefit of the doubt. After that we’ll have to decide how to handle this.”
    “Fine.”
    Click!
    She looked at the phone, chagrined. “Nice talking to you, too, fella.”
    Peyton laughed. “Someday you’ll be a partner in the firm and you can fire old Pappas.”
    She didn’t smile, simply put the phone back together and worked at closing her bulging briefcase. Peyton pressed on it to help. “A good-morning kiss, perhaps?” He turned his head and puckered up. “Just one for the obvious road you’re about to be on?”
    She stood up, not even there anymore. Her eyes were vacuous, her face dark and set. She hefted her briefcase and made for the door. Peyton tagged along. “See you tonight? The proposal still stands, if you’ll have me.” He got the door slammed in his face for his trouble. He put his hands on his hips and regarded it, thinking that if he thought his job was tough, look at hers. He turned, shaking his head, then saw something that almost made him laugh.
    The deadly memo with its coffee stain was still on the table.
    He got dressed for another long day down at the river. Before he left, he folded the memo quite neatly and stuck it in his shirt pocket. Most likely Julie would show up at the shack looking for him and the memo, since the lab was closer. She would be pleased to know he was so thoughtful.
    He polished off his coffee and went out, already debating whether he should have a sausage-and-mushroom pizza for breakfast, or go crazy and have them toss on some green peppers too.
    Strack’s secretary allowed Julie in without hesitation, without even ringing Louis. She pointed to a door, a useless gesture because the words LOUIS STRACK, JR. were on an engraved nameplate, and said to go on in.
    Julie shrugged to herself. This was better treatment than she got at Pappas and Swain. Louis was one considerate man. A crook, probably, but considerate as hell. She tapped on the door, anyway, got no response, and went in. Louis had his back to her, staring through the huge window to the city below. He was on the phone.
    “Yes, that’s a buy on the Krugerrands. The price won’t get any better. And thank you for your kindness, Franz. It will be difficult to fill my father’s shoes.”
    He turned as he hung up and saw Julie standing half in and half out of the door, looking pretty much like a crook herself. “Julie! What a pleasant surprise! Get on in here and let me look at you.”
    She went in and clicked the door softly shut, then stood there, feeling awkward. He motioned to a chair in front of his huge executive’s desk. “Take a load off, Julie. And for God’s sake, let me see that smile again.”
    She sat down, unable to smile. She put her briefcase on her lap and popped the latches.
    “Can I get you something?” he asked. “Coffee? Brandy? Maison Rême 1987?”
    Now she did smile. He seemed pleased. “No thanks, Louis,” she said. “I’ve been going over some documents and I came across something that puzzles me. It’s a memo from your office to a Mr. Claude Bellasarious. It carries your father’s signature. It details certain payments—”
    “My father,” Louis repeated sadly. “Did you hear?”
    She almost slapped herself. “Good grief, Louis, I am so sorry. You’ve got all the condolences I can offer.” She almost stood up. “I’ll just go out and come back in, start