Sevi Makhoulian unfolded his hands, placed them palms down on the table. From the angle he was standing at Detective Sevi Makhoulian could see the three numbers tattooed across the woman's toned right shoulder.

7.1.8.

'I don't think so. Parker and I have spoken numerous times over the last few weeks. Parker's only concern was finding his brother's killer. He did that, in Evans. As far as Parker is concerned, the case is closed. I do have sources within the industry that will tell me if that changes.'

'You don't sound convinced,' she said. Her eyes narrowed. Makhoulian found his palms sweating. He wiped them on his pants, hoping she didn't notice.

'Parker has a reputation as a young bulldog. He was involved in the death of Michael DiForio a few years back.'

'That's right!' she said, now beaming. 'DiForio thought Parker had stolen from him. He even went so far as to hire Shelton Barnes.'

'That's right.'

'And look how that turned out.' She smiled. Makhoulian did too. 'Bodies like Callahan, Gaines and

Evans can disappear without many tears. The families bury them, the city moves on. They were insulated.

Parker has friends. I never authorized the hit on Parker at his apartment. That was Evans acting alone when he realized Parker was getting too close. We do not move unless we are forced.'

'I understand that. If I hear anything…'

'You will let Corporal Malloy know before you take another breath.'

The woman stood up, revealing her full height, full frame. She was a shade under six feet tall. She extended a grip, which the detective took. She clasped Makhou lian's hand, fingers digging in until the detective winced. Her eyes were locked on Makoulian's, the pupils wide, burning. For an instant, Sevi Makhoulian feared for his life. Then the grip loosened. The woman turned around and sat back behind her desk. As he stood up to leave, Sevi Makhoulian noticed one more thing sitting upon the nearly empty desk. A small black rock, no larger than a pebble. It had a rough surface, the color of coal.

With nothing else of note, Makhoulian knew it was not there by mistake.

'Is that it?' the detective asked, pointing to the small stone.

'I expect to be able to begin shipments within six months,' the woman continued, ignoring the question.

'Right now I'm taking your word that we can resume without any further interruptions, issues or problems.

If I feel for one moment that you're holding back from me, or information is coming faster than you can relay it, I will detach your head from your body with the tips of my fingernails and find someone useful. Do you understand me, Detective? '

'I do,' Detective Makhoulian said, looking at that small black rock. 'And I give you my word when I say that they have no idea.'

Вы читаете The Fury
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