"Westlake, Donald E as Stark, Richard - Parker 05 - The Score (Killtown) 1.1" - читать интересную книгу автора (Westlake Donald E)

When it comes to crime, Edgars is an amateur. Yet he knows the dead-end town of Copper Canyon like the back of his hand. Parker doesn't like working with amateurs, but Edgars' inside knowledge is too good to be passed up. So their team hit the town in a devastating raid. But then Edgars runs amok, and Parker will be lucky to escape with his life...

The Score

Richard Stark (Donald E Westlake)


PART ONE


One


When the bellboy left, Parker went over to the house phone and made his call. He gave the operator downstairs the number he wanted, and waited while the phone clicked and ticked and snicked in his ear. He was feeling impatient, and he was about to go downstairs and put in the call from a pay phone when all the clicking finally quit and a ringing sound started instead.

Parker counted the rings, just as Paulus was doing at the other end, and while he waited and counted he looked around at the room. It was just a hotel room, the same as any. Because it was in Jersey City, it might be a little grimier than most, that's all.

On the eighth ring, the nosy operator came on, saying, 'Your party doesn't seem to be answering, sir.'

'He moves slow,' Parker told her. 'Let it ring.'

'Yes, sir.'

He tensed and relaxed his shoulder muscles, hunching and relaxing, hunching and relaxing. He'd flown up, and being in a plane always made his shoulders stiff. Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen. Sixteen. Where the hell was he?

The ringing stopped, just before seventeen, and a voice said, 'Hello?' The voice sounded wary. Paulus had always been a damn fool.

'Hello,' said Parker. 'I'm here.'

'Oh. You made good time.'

There was nothing to say to that. Parker waited.

Paulus cleared his throat, and said, 'Come on over.'

'Now?'

'Sure. We're all here. You got the address?'

If he said no, Paulus would sure as hell give it to him over the phone. Wary one second, bigmouthed the next.

He said, 'I've got it.'

'Fine.'

'I'll want to change first. I just got in.'

'Any time.'

Parker hung up, shook his head, and lit a cigarette. Paulus would die in jail; it had to happen. He was a good organizer, a good tactician, but he moved through the world like a movie spy, screaming for some cop to look at him twice.