"Hennessey, Mike - Dan Healey - The Screwdriver Solution" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hennessey Mike)

"I'm on my way," I said.

Mac gave me the address. "There's no good in this guy, Dan," he added. "None whatsoever."

"I understand what you're saying."

* * *

The sign on my door read: Dan Healey - Investigations. Some years ago I'd been Mac's partner in the NYPD. Then a bullet fired with extreme prejudice had taken away part of a lung, laid me up for six months, and forever wrecked my hopes for a gold medal in the 100-yard dash. Rather than ride a desk for the rest of my career, I'd taken early retirement and gone private.

Now, Mac, or Sgt. Ozzie McFeeters, to give him his full title, sent what work he could my way--usually with the approval of his boss, Lieutenant Joe Mooney, for whom I'd also done a favour or two.

I'd actually saved Mac's life once. We were picking up this suspect in a knife killing, Charlie "Cutter" Toole, a big, sleepy-looking guy about seven feet tall and as wide as a front-end loader. We'd caught him in an alley and had disarmed him--we thought--but when Mac went to cuff him, he slipped this opened pocket-knife from his sleeve and gave Mac a rip on the face. He was rearing back for a final slash at Mac's throat when I got a clear shot at him with my .38 and splattered his brains all over the brick wall. It had taken seventy-two stitches to close up Mac's face, and he was left with a scar that wandered from his right eye to his right ear by way of his mouth. Mac remained grateful, and he sent me some well-paying jobs. Usually, I was called in when the department thought that removal of the problem was a better solution than mere arrest, if you know what I mean.

* * *

My office was within the boundaries of the Fifth Precinct and not far from the scene. I was there in fifteen minutes. The whole area was in darkness, street lights, everything. A uniformed cop led me to Mac.

Mac was direct. "This guy is a rat, Dan, plain and simple. He's spent more time inside than out. And he could even walk from this if he hasn't harmed the kid."

"Gotcha," I said. "How do I get in?"

"Well." He looked at his watch. "It's just about time for the electrician to arrive."

"I'm here," I said brightly. "What do I do?"

"How's your electrical knowledge?" Mac asked.

"I can change a light bulb."

"That should do it."

"Supposing he buys it. Supposing I get in. Then what?"

"Do I have to do all the thinking here?"

"No, but--"

"You take him out. It'll be a righteous kill."

"Just like that?"

"Well, hell, Dan, improvise. It's what you do best anyway."

"With an Uzi down my throat?"

"Or maybe a shotgun."

"Oh, no." I shook my head. "What has he got in there anyway?"