The Stein & Candle Detective Agency, Vol. 1: American Nightmares (The Stein & Candle Detective Agency #1) by Michael Panush Read Free Book Online

said. “Let’s hear it – top to bottom, front to back, beginning to end. Start with who hired you.”
    “They didn’t hire me,” she said. “And they said they’d kill me if I talk.”
    Weatherby walked a little closer to her. “I understand it may have been under duress,” he said. “But we will defend you from them, whoever they are. We have several weapons, and my partner is greatly skilled in their use. We can keep you safe, if you help us.” He spoke clearly and calmly and she nodded. “Was it the Mafia?” he asked. “And Don Vizzini?”
    “No. It was the guerillas. The rebels.”
    Things had just gotten a lot more interesting. “Castro’s boys,” I muttered, turning to the window. “Those Bolshevik nutjobs have been wreaking havoc from the Sierra Maestras ever since old Fidel got back here from Mexico. Baum’s dough would certainly help their cause.”
    “The Escopeteros threatened me,” Miss Rosa explained. “They said I was very pretty. They said I would not be pretty after they finished with me, unless I helped them.” She looked up at me and I suddenly felt a little sorry for her. “I do this to make a living. I need the money, in the same way you do. And so I work. I did not want anything bad to happen to Baum’s son. I did not mean the boy any harm.”
    “No,” I said. “You’re a coward, not a killer.”
    “But you will protect me?”
    “The only way I know how. I’m gonna put an end to this whole rotten business, sister. And you’re along for the ride.” I turned away from her and started to the door. “You know the way to the rebel camp? They must have the kid stashed away nearby, somewhere in the mountains.”
    “They took me to it. I can remember the way.”
    “Good. Get your hat and coat. We’re gonna pay them a visit.”
    Just then, the telephone rang. Miss Rosa picked it up and listened to it. Her eyes looked into mine. “Some men are in the lobby. They want to see me. I think they are with the mob.”
    So the mob was involved. That didn’t matter. I’d mashed uglier things than gangsters under my fists. “So move fast,” I said. I flicked away my cigarette into the wastebasket as she hurried to grab her things.
    So far, this job was going pretty well. But as it always was with one of my cases, that just meant things were about to get weird.

    We took the elevator halfway down and then the fire escape the rest of the way. It deposited us in a back alley, a dirty stretch of cobblestones that ran between the upscale hotels, casinos and trendy restaurants. Miss Rosa stayed between me and Weatherby. She was scared, but I was certain she was tougher than she looked. We started moving down the alley. I hoped to reach the street, catch a taxi to the outskirts of Havana, and hitch a ride or go on foot from there.
    The sun blazed down at us, and I felt sweat on the back of my neck and on my forehead. I wiped it away with my sleeve as we moved between dumpsters and lumps of garbage, all the stinking detritus from a gringo’s exotic playground. A dozen or so drunks lay slumped in the alley, nestled together on both sides like rats in a hole.
    As we moved past them, one of their arms reached out and grabbed Miss Rosa’s leg. She didn’t scream, but tried to shake it off. “Let go, hijo de puta!” she hissed. “Let go, or I’ll cave your face in!”
    The drunk was wearing a panama hat and a suit that had looked good a decade ago. He looked up, and I saw his face. That’s when I smelled them – the kind of rot that doesn’t come from anything but human corpses, made even worse by the tropical sun. These men were dead, but they were still moving.
    “Zombies!” Weatherby cried, as a rotting corpse in a straw hat lurched towards him. He reached into his coat, fumbling for his pistol as Miss Rosa tried to break free. He managed to get the large pearl handle of the revolver out, just before the zombie tackled him to the ground. I would have helped him, but I had three