Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) Blake Banner (love books to read .TXT) 📖

smiled at her without warmth while he undressed her with his eyes. “Sadly,” he said, “it is human nature to give in to the appetites of the flesh. It is not for us to judge, however, but to offer up prayers and beg for forgiveness for our own sins.”

Before Dehan could answer, I said, “Are you done? Because I have had a bellyful of bullshit. Are we going to do business or what?”

He sighed deeply and pulled one of those expressive Italian faces where the eyebrows go all the way up and the mouth goes all the way down.

“Business, Detective, what are you selling?”

“Our silence and cooperation. You interested or not?”

He shrugged like he couldn’t give a damn.

“I hear a lot of talk, but I have not seen anything. Where is this confession? You have even a copy of it? What are you going to take to the DA? What are you going to adduce in court? Your word? The word of two corrupt police officers against the word of the Roman Catholic Bishop of the Diocese of St. Mary’s?”

I sat forward. “Let me ask you something, Bellini, do I look stupid? You think I am stupid enough to bring O’Neil’s confession to your little Mafia HQ? You think I don’t know you’re in bed with Vincenzo? The confession stays where it is until I see the cash. A copy? You want a fucking copy? What am I, your fucking office boy? I have every word of his confession in my head. You want me to run through it for you? You want to discuss the details of what you and those fucking animals did to those little girls? Or would you rather see it reported in the New York Times tomorrow morning?”

He was cool. He wasn’t shaken. He watched me with dead eyes and said nothing. He was smarter than Sadiq by a long chalk, but he hadn’t made up his mind that I was bluffing either. In the end, he said, “I need more than your word.”

“It’s all you’re getting till I see your money.”

“How do I know I can trust you?”

“Trust me? What’s the matter with you? You can’t trust me. That’s why I’m here, because I’m bent. Make your arrangements, cover your back, do what you have to do, but I want my money, and I want involvement, you understand me?”

“What do you mean, you want involvement?”

I put a big smile on the side of my face. “I want you dirty, Bellini. I am not dealing with intermediaries. I am putting my career, and my life on the line here, and so is my partner. You commit, too. If one of us goes down, we all three go down. And any business you and Vincenzo conduct in the Bronx, I’m a part of it. I told you, I want what Mick had.”

He didn’t look awfully impressed. “I need to think about it.”

“Seriously, you need to think about it?” I stood and pointed at him. “You’re a fucking asshole. You’re not useless to me, Bellini. You will be useful as an example to those who come after you, and to Vincenzo. Make sure you get the New York Times tomorrow, and expect a visit from the DA.”

Dehan stood. Bellini held up a hand.

“Wait. How much do you want?”

“For what?”

He frowned. There was suspicion in his eyes. I laughed. “I want a one-off payment, then there is the retainer, and then there are percentages on the jobs. What are you talking about?”

He nodded once, and then hesitated. “The one-off payment for the confession.”

I sat back in my chair. I was aware the meeting was coming to an end and I still didn’t have his prints.

“Fifty grand in used bills.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “Where and when?”

I thought about it a moment. “Ferry Point Park, corner of Emerson Avenue and Shurz Avenue, by the river. You know it?”

He gave a weary nod. “I know of it. When?”

I was suddenly tired. I looked at Dehan. She was staring at the bishop, like she was entranced by some movie. I forced myself to focus. The next day we were going to be eight or nine hours driving, plus however long we spent in DC. We wouldn’t be back before four or five at the earliest, and we might need time to consider whatever Singh gave us.

“Day after tomorrow. Ten A.M.”

“All right, Stone. But be aware, I will have you both executed at the earliest chance I have.”

“Good to know.” I turned to Dehan. “Anything you want to add?”

She caught the irony in my tone, looked at me a moment, and shook her head. She stood and we left.

Twenty-TWO

The streetlamps were coming on when we got downstairs, but the sky was still light. I walked to the Jag and got in. She got in beside me. She didn’t slam the door. She closed it softly. I fired up the engine and drove straight up Beach Avenue for a block and parked just before the junction with Westchester. When I stopped and killed the engine, she looked at me with a query on her face. I ignored her and got out. She got out after me and we crossed the road to the South of France. A bar that is hideous to look at on the outside, but good enough to drink in on the inside.

I ordered two beers and took them to a table. I put one in front of her. She said, “You didn’t get the prints.”

I ignored her and said, “This place closes at two A.M. But we are not leaving until we have resolved this. So talk.”

She heaved a sigh and slid back in her chair.

She took a long pull and then set about making interlocking rings on the tabletop