Bookman's promise

much money did you pay for this thing?”

“Buck and a half. I’ll keep it if you’re not int’rested.”

But he took the book and walked away, disappearing into a room that looked like a private office, deep in the back of the store.

Carl came along about forty minutes later and the blonde’s demeanor changed in a heartbeat. I saw her stiffen, craning her neck as he came to the door. From where I was I could see that he had stopped outside with a man who had been walking with him. They huddled together in the portico, as if what they had been discussing had to be finished now and kept strictly between themselves. Carl was about what I expected: a weasel. The guy with him had the hard look of a real hood, and he did most of the talking. My radar sensed the iron he carried under his coat and I knew this was a seriously bad dude. Not a pretender, not a man you could easily bluff. I knew this at once, from an old cop’s experience. Blondie was right to be wary.

They finished their talk and came into the store. Carl went straight back to the office and Capone drifted to the counter, where he could ogle the blonde’s tits. She looked up at him and tried to smile. “Need some help, hon?”

He leaned over the counter and his coat flopped open. “I dunno, hon,” he said. “What kinda help you givin‘?”

She saw the rod and chilled.

“I thought I asked you a question,” the hood said.

She paled then, so visibly I could see it from across the room. “You know,” she said. “Books and stuff.”

“Oh, books and stuff,” he said. “Do I look like I need books and stuff?”

“No, sir.”

“Why not? You think I can’t read?”

“No, sir. I mean yes, sir. I’m sure you can read.”

“You don’t know what the hell you mean, do you?”

“No, sir.”

Then she looked up over his shoulder. That spooked him and he turned away from the counter like a cat had crossed behind him. Our eyes met through the stacks. I looked away, too late. I heard his footsteps coming. I took a deep breath.

“Hey, you.”

I turned and looked at him down the row of books.

“Yeah, you. What the hell are you lookin‘ at?”

“Nothing.”

“Is that right? Am I nothing?”

“I wasn’t looking at you.”

He took a couple of steps into the aisle and I felt my gut tighten. Here we go.

“What am I, a liar?”

“I was looking at the books. I just happened to glance up.”

“I don’t think so,” he said in a singsong voice.

“Well,” I said. “Sorry if I offended you.”

“You better be. And you better keep your fuckin‘ eyes to yourself unless you wanna go around with a cane and a seein’-eye dog. You got me?”

“I got you.”

He took another step forward as if he hadn’t liked the tone of my voice.

“I don’t think you got me at ail.”

“Yeah, I did.” I made a slight laughing sound, hoping to put a layer of respectful unease into it. “I really got you.”

We looked at each other. It could have gone either way in those few seconds but then Carl came up from the back room. “Dante?”

He turned his head slightly. “Yeah, I’m comin‘.”

He pointed a finger at my face, then he turned and the two of them left the store.

I came out from behind the stacks. The blonde had sunk onto a chair and had a white-knuckle grip on the arms as if