Everybody Dies by Lawrence Block Read Free Book Online Page B

went belly-up a few years ago. And we always have the problems of the world to solve if we're ever fresh out of problems of our own.
    We drank our coffee and paid our separate checks. "C'mon," he said. "I'll walk you home."
    "I'm not going home," I said, "although I'll pass the place. I've got a call to make and you won't want to go there."
    "Some gin joint, would be my guess."
    "Grogan's. I did a day's work for Ballou, and I've got to drop by and tell him what I found out."
    "That what you were talking about earlier?"
    During the meeting I'd shared about my occasional difficulties in setting boundaries. I'd been referring to the business at hand, although I'd avoided saying anything at all specific.
    "It's hard to do the right thing," I told Jim, "when you're not sure what it is."
    "That's the great advantage the religious fanatics have," he said. "They always know."
    "Puts them way ahead of me."
    "Me too," he said, "and the gap is ever widening. Every year there's a few more things I'm not sure of. I've decided that a wide-ranging uncertainty is the mark of the true maturity of man."
    "Then I must be growing up," I said, "and it's about time. Are we on for Sunday night?"
    He said we were. At the corner of Fifty-seventh we shook hands and said goodnight, and he turned right while I crossed the street. I started to turn automatically toward the Parc Vendome's entrance, caught myself, then came close to going on in anyway. I was tired, and could call Ballou and tell him what I had to tell him over the phone.
    But instead I stayed with the original plan and skirted the building, heading downtown on Ninth Avenue. I walked three blocks, passing Elaine's shop, then crossed to the west side of Ninth when the light turned and walked another block. I was just stepping off the curb at Fifty-third Street when a stocky guy with dark hair plastered down across his scalp popped up smack in front of me and stuck a gun in my face.
    My first reaction was chagrin. Where had he come from, and how had I managed to be wholly unaware of his approach? The crime rate's down these days and the streets feel a lot safer, but you still have to pay attention. I'd been paying attention all my life, and what was the matter with me now?
    "Scudder," he said.
    I heard my name and felt better. At least I wasn't a random patsy, sufficiently oblivious to blunder into the role of mugging victim. That was reassuring, but it didn't do anything to improve the short-term outlook.
    "This way," he said, and pointed with the gun. We moved onto the sidewalk and into the shadows on the side street. He stayed in front of me and kept the gun in my face, while a second man, behind me throughout, was behind me still. I hadn't had a look at him yet, but I could sense his presence and smell his beer-and-tobacco breath.
    "You ought to quit sticking your nose into storage sheds in Jersey," the one with the gun said.
    "All right."
    "Huh?"
    "I said all right. You want me out of it and I want out myself. No problem."
    "You trying to be smart?"
    "I'm trying to stay alive," I said, "and to save us all a headache. Especially me. I took a job that's not going anywhere and I was just on my way to tell the man to find himself another boy. I'm a married man and I'm not a kid anymore and I don't need the aggravation."
    His nostrils flared and his eyebrows went up a notch. "They said you were a tough customer," he said.
    "Years ago. See how tough you are when you get to be my age."
    "And you're ready to forget the whole thing? Jersey, the cases of hooch, the two Irish guys?"
    "What Irish guys?"
    He looked at me.
    I said, "See? It's forgotten."
    He gave me a long look, and I read disappointment in his features. "Well," he said. "Turns out you're easier than you figured to be, but I still got to do what I got to do." I had an idea what that meant, and I knew I was right when the man behind me took hold of my upper arms and held on tight. The one in front tucked his gun under his belt and made