"Westlake, Donald E - Dortmunder 09 - What's the Worst That Could Happen 4.0" - читать интересную книгу автора (Westlake Donald E)

WHAT'S THE WORST THAT COULD HAPPEN? Donald E. Westlake

This isnТt actually all my own work. It was scanned by bib, who doesnТt like proofing, and who has actually posted for me in the past. So I agreed to tidy it up and post it as part of my current run. It was proofed without access to the original book, so may contain a few more errors than usual

It starts with a ring. A cheap ring. The yellow metal says brass, not gold, and the sparkly bits are certainly not diamonds. But there are those who swear it brings good luck. Dortmunder, who wouldn't kick a little good luck out of bed, puts it to the test when he goes to burglarize billionaire Max Fairbanks. As luck would have it, Dortmunder is greeted by Fairbanks himself - and a loaded gun as soon as he strolls through the door. When cops arrive, the mogul adds insult to injury by claiming that Dortmunder's lucky ring is actually his. Big mistake, big guy. As soon as Dortmunder gives the cops the slip, he goes after the fat cat with a vengeance and a team of crooks that only he can assemble!
Cover design by Jackie Merri Meyer Cover illustration by Jeff Fitz Maurice

What's the Worst That Could Happen by Donald E Westlake

Thorndike Press Chivers Press Thorndike, Maine USA Bath, Avon, England

Copyright (c) 1996 by Donald E. Westlake
All rights reserved.
Printed in the United States on permanent paper.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data available
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Westlake, Donald E. What's the worst that could happen? / Donald E. Westlake. p. cm.ISBN 0-7862-0862-7
2. Dortmunder (Fictitious character) Fiction. 3. Criminals - Fiction. I. Title. [PS3573.E9W3 1996b] 813'.54-dc20
96-34448

FOR QUINN MALLOY

As the I Ching says: Difficulty at the beginning works supreme success.

This is no time for levity.
Oliver Hardy

This is no time for levity. Hmp!
Stanley Laurel, in agreement

1

From the circumstances, Dortmunder would say it was a missing-heir scam. It had begun a week ago, when a guy he knew slightly, a fella called A.K.A. because he operated under so many different names, phoned him and said, "Hey, John, it's A. K.A. here, I'm wondering, you got the flu, something like that? We don't see you around the regular place for a while."

"Which regular place is that?"

Dortmunder asked.

"Armweery's."

"Oh, yeah," Dortmunder said. "Well, I been cuttin back. I might see you there sometime."

Off the phone, Dortmunder looked up the address of Armweery's and went there, and A.K.A. was at a booth in the back, under the LOOSE LIPS SINK SHIPS poster where some wag had blacked out most of the Jap's teeth.

"What this is," A.K.A. said, under his new mustache (this one was gingery, and so, at the moment, was his hair), "is a deposition. A week from Thursday, 10:00 A.M., this lawyer's office in the Graybar Building. Take maybe an hour. You go in, they swear you, ask you some questions, that's it."

"Do I know the answers?"

"You will."