"Elrod, P.N. - Vampire Files 09 - Lady Crymsyn" - читать интересную книгу автора (Elrod P N)

Muldan shrugged. "Not my decision. The girl likes me, and I'm not going to argue with her good taste."
"You should take a vacation. Havana is very nice this time of year."
"Too hot."
"Cooler than here. Her fatherЧ"
"Doesn't matter. She wants to see me, so I'll see her right back."
"That would be a very bad thing. For you."
"Or what? Her father has me scragged? That can't happen, and you and he both know it. I'm too important."
"Royce, you are making difficulties. Make too many of them and anything can happen. Even to important guys. And you know it."
"By the time things get to that point she'll be tired of me and looking at someone else. It's not my fault her father can't control her. Look, I'm just going along for the ride. Tell her old man to step back, let her sow her oats, and he won't have any more trouble with her."
Gordy heaved a great, gentle sigh. The sigh of a man about to do an unpleasant, but necessary task. "I'm sorry you won't listen."
Maybe I'd never been on stage like Escott, but I recognized a cue line when I heard one. "Want me to do something with him?"
Muldan gave me a contempt-tinged "what's it to you" look, on guard, ready to meet my challenge.
Gordy said, "Only if you don't mind. I'm thinking this guy needs to take a nap."
I smiled, briefly. "Then have your guys take a break."
He signed to the other mugs hanging around in the background, and they silently moved off. He knew I never cared to have witnesses for certain kinds of work.
Muldan was aware something was up, but his mind would be running along ordinary lines, anticipating ordinary threats. He stood up a little straighter and loosened the buttons on his coat. It was finely tailored, but not to the point where it could completely conceal his shoulder holster. "Just what do you think you're doing, Gordy? Have you forgotten who I am?"
"Nope, but you are not being smart about this. You are making a problem. Though sometimes when you sleep on a problem it clears itself up."
"I'm not the one with the probЧ" Muldan began.
But I was already moving in on him.
The lighting was bad, but adequate. I put all my attention on Royce Muldan, catching him with my gaze before he had a chance to draw his gun. A few seconds later he was standing very still, hands relaxed at his sides, eyes shut fast.
What a fate for Mrs. Fleming's youngestЧbecoming part-time mob muscle. If she ever found out, she'd thump my head with her big mixing spoon, and if she still used the one I remembered, which was made of wood, it would cause me damage.
"Sure a good thing to be able to do stuff like that," said Gordy as he peered at the quiescent and now quite oblivious Muldan. There was a note in his normally deadpan tone that was very close to admiration.
"Yeah. What's the beef with this one?"
"Son of a New York big shot. Thinks he's immune to trouble. Seeing the wrong girl. Thing is, Muldan's right about her. If her pop left her alone, she'd grow out of it, but he don't look at it that way. He's ready to take his shotgun to this chump, which would mean he'd get himself killed, too. This town don't need another war."
"Huh."
"So I told the pop I'd talk to Muldan. It wasn't going so good until you showed up. This bird don't intimidate easy."
Considering the sinister surroundings, that said a lot for Muldan's courageЧor stupidity. Hell, I wasn't the one brought down here to be talked to, and I still had to fight off getting the creeps. "What do you want to do with him?"
"Tell him he's changed his mind about the girl. He don't want to see her again, and that he should tell her so."
"How about he says he's not good enough for her, and she can do better?"
"You'd be doing them both a favor."
So I got Muldan in the right frame of mind to listen, planted the suggestions, and told him to go. He went, followed at a distance by a few of the bruisers who'd hung around by the stairs. They'd make sure he'd leave all the way. He'd wake out of his trance sometime during the cab ride to his hotel. He wouldn't remember me at all.
Gordy stood, his looming shadow blotting out a large hunk of the basement. "I owe you again, Fleming."
"No problem; I prefer reason over gunplay."
"You should get into the business, you'd make a fortune."
"I got enough of one to suit me for now."
"If you're ever short, then you come hit the tables here. Anytime." The odds favored the house at the casino games here, but for a select few, the house could be made to lose on demand. I had an edge or two of my own as well, when I was in the mood for it.
"Thanks."
" 'Course, if you put some tables in at your place, you'd be set for life."
"And have to pay for it."
"It don't have to be roulette or the slots. A fancy joint like what you want could get by fine taking a percentage from high-stakes poker."
There was an interesting thought. But I shook my head. "I'd still have to split too much of the profits with certain kinds of cops to keep them off my backЧand it would give them something to hold over me."
"They don't have to know. You could make your whole investment back in one month."
I laughed once. "You tell me a way to keep a secret in this town, and I might consider it."
He took the point. "But you got ways around that. Like what you did just now with Muldan."
"I'm going into this club for fun as well as money. If I get myself gummed up with making payoffs, it stops being fun and there's not as much money. As long as I keep my nose clean, the cops got no easy way to hurt me. Anything else makes things too complicated, and I've got enough complications to keep me busy." Like finding a dead woman in the basement wall.
He shrugged, which was a minimal lift of his massive shoulders, then turned, and I followed him up to his lush office. The man who had been there earlier was still there, but gathered up his cards and left when we came in. Gordy made a drink for himself; as far as I could tell it was just tonic water and a shot of lime juice. He didn't ask if I wanted anything, knowing better.
"You getting a cold?" I asked, with a nod at his quinine-laced glass.
"I like the taste."
It kept him sober, too. Yet another way of staying ahead of rivals.
"SoЕ What's the story with the body?" he asked.