Gilded Canary by Brad Latham Read Free Book Online Page B

know what you
     did to Angelo and Richie.”
    “If you want to keep your boys safe, Two-Scar, you’d better put a leash on them.” Toomey’s mouth went ugly when Lockwood hit
     him with the nickname, but he ignored him. “Richie Calidone got what was coming to him. His partner, too.”
    “You’re gonna pay for it, Hook.”
    “Stop talking like some grease-painted mobster off the Monogram lot, Two-Scar. Look, the two of us have business to do, and
     we might as well get down to it.” Lockwood kept the talk going, trying to figure out what the hell to do with Stephanie if
     the fireworks went off. He had to protect her and at the same time shoot it out with the five of them. At the moment, he didn’t
     much like his chances.
    “What business? What kind of business would I do with a nothing like you?” Two-Scar sat back in his chair for a moment and
     grabbed a cigar from his breast pocket. He bit off the tip of it, then struck a wooden match by flicking it with his fingernail,
     and drew in slowly on Cuba’s second-best product, after its women.
    “The Dearborn jewels.” The Hook looked them all over; Two-Scar in the easy chair, Petey Ahearn and Stuff Maggiatore on the
     couch, Slops Weinstein sitting on the windowsill, a thug whose name Lockwood didn’t know lounging against the wall behind
     Toomey. General Pershing couldn’t have devised much better offensive positions.
    “The what?” Two-Scar grinned now, enjoying his cigar and the sense of power this situation gave him.
    “You know what I’m talking about. You, or at least one of your boys, hiked the jewels, and somehow Jabber-Jabber Jacoby found
     out about it, so you wiped him.”
    “You been readin’ too many funny books, Hook,” Toomey said. “I’m a legitimate businessman; what would I be doin’, messin’
     with anyone’s personal property?” A few guttural chuckles issued from Toomey’s men. They liked his little joke.
    “I’m not a cop, Toomey, you know that. I’m not out to arrest anyone.” Lockwood reached into his shirt for a Camel, then into
     his jacket pocket for his lighter. Toomey and his men tensed, but didn’t commit themselves. Lockwood had to give it to them.
     They were pros at what they did and had the confidence to allow him to keep them on the
qui vive
. He lighted the Camel and continued.
    “I’m in the insurance business. The insurance business doesn’t like to lose money.” He turned toward Stephanie. “How about
     letting her out of here? She’s got nothing to do with any of this.”
    “Stow it, Hook. Keep talkin’. Might as well use your mouth while it still works.” Toomey’s voice was genial, but there was
     death in his eyes.
    “Okay. So occasionally we work deals that maybe a cop might not be too happy about. There are times when we know we’ve got
     to take a financial fall, so we try to soften the blow.”
    Lockwood drew in on the Camel, his mind still working, trying to figure out how best to defend Stephanie and himself when
     the inevitable showdown came.
    “So we find the guy, who, say, stole a truckload of furs, and we offer him some money—enough money to make it worthwhile—but
     less than we’d have to pay out in benefits —and we get the furs back and return them to our beneficiary, and everybody’s happy.
     Sure, we’re out something, but not as much as it would be otherwise.”
    “I’m lookin’ at your woman, Hook. Very nice. I might want to keep her around a while,” Toomey grinned, his mouth a sneer.
    Stephanie involuntarily drew nearer The Hook. “You’re losing track, Toomey,” Lockwood said. “We’re talking business. Money.
     You like the sound of that, don’t you? Money.”
    “So what’s the deal?” Toomey asked, flatly.
    “The jewels are insured for $50,000. There’s no way you could fence them for more than—oh say, $10,000.”
    “What’re you, some kind of college professor, you know everything?” Toomey asked, sarcastic.
    “I’ve been around.