“OK,” Decker said, “you got a broken left arm, a bad left knee, and you’re deaf in your left ear.” He grabbed Coles’s right arm, pulled it straight back and said, “Let’s start on the right side.”
“No, wait,” Coles said, gasping out the words. He was crying now. “Jesus, wait—”
“I’m not going to wait very long.”
“Let me…let me get my breath!”
“Uh-uh,” Decker said. “I let you get your breath, you might try to lie. Talk now, Coles.” Decker pulled tight on the arm. “Talk, or be a cripple for life.”
“OK, OK,” Coles said. Decker released his arm and stepped back. In that moment, Coles reached into his boot and came out with a knife and lunged at Decker. Decker squeezed the trigger of the .45 and blew off the top of Coles’s head.
“Shit!” Decker snapped.
He heard someone running, and he turned, holding the .45 out in front of him.
“Hey, wait—” Rosewood said, both hands held out in front of him. In his right hand he held the .32.
“Billy, I told you to—”
“I know, I know, get lost,” Rosewood said. He looked down. Coles’s left arm was lying at an odd angle, and the top of his head was missing.
“He killed himself,” Decker said, sticking the .45 in his belt.
“He killed
“With stupidity,” Decker said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
When they came walking out of the park, Largo was standing there.
“Is Coles dead?” he asked.
“He’s dead,” Decker said.
“You’ve got a big rep in the West, Decker.”
“Do I?”
“I been thinking about going west. It would help if I went with a rep.”
“Mine?”
“I was thinking about that.”
“Well, don’t,” Decker said. “Not tonight, Largo. I’ve got other things to do.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Largo nodded.
“The girl.”
“Do you know where she is?”
“I know someone who does.”
“Who?”
“If I tell you,” Largo said, “will you meet me after? Just you and me?”
“Just you and me, Largo.”
Largo studied Decker for a few moments, then nodded.
“You know that little cafe you been eating in?”
“Yeah. What about it?”
“Your friend Ready eats there, too.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” Largo said, laughing. “I’m surprised you fellas haven’t run into each other.”
“Is this for sure?”
“Oh, yes,” Largo said. “And I’ll tell you something else. He doesn’t just eat there.”
“What’s that mean?”
“Talk to a waitress with firm calves.”
“Most waitresses have firm calves.”
Largo grinned, turned to walk away and said, “Not like this one.”
Chapter Thirty-five
Decker stood just inside the doorway of the cafe and looked at both waitresses. He’d been wrong. One of them had very slender calves, but the other one—Marcy, the one who was friends with Linda—had nice firm ones.
She turned and smiled when she saw him.
“Hello,” she said, approaching him. “Are you meeting Linda?”
“Linda’s not available,” he said.
“Oh?”
“She’s with a man.”
“Oh, I’m sorry—”
“His name is Ready, Oakley Ready.”
“Oak—that’s not possible,” she said, frowning.
“Why not?”
“Well he’s—I mean, he and I—He can’t be with Linda—”
“Not only is he with Linda,” Decker said, “he’s holding Linda.” He grabbed her by the shoulders.
“Marcy, he’s going to kill her. Because he wants me.”
“What for?”
“He had a friend of mine killed, had him shot in the back.”
“That’s not—”
“Don’t tell me it’s not possible,” he said, shaking her. “Does he have a lot of money?”
“Well, yes, but—”
He noticed a bruise at the corner of her mouth.
“He hit you, didn’t he?”
She raised her hand to the bruise.
“Look, Marcy,” he said, in a gentler tone, “he wants me to know where he is. That’s why he took Linda. Now tell me, before he kills her.”
She stared at his chest for a few moments, then gave him an address on Delancey Street.
“Second floor,” she added. “In the back.”
He ran outside and shouted the address to Rosewood.
“Do you know where that is?”
“Yep!”
“Let’s get there…fast!”
Decker had Rosewood stop the cab down the block, and they both got down.
“Stay here!” he said.
“Decker—”
“This time I mean it, Billy!” he said sharply. “Stay here.”
“All right.”
Decker checked the numbers on the buildings until he found the one he wanted. He tried the door and found it open.
Ready was really waiting for him.
He pulled the .45 from his belt and went inside.
He climbed the steps to the second floor, wincing as they creaked. When he reached the landing, he walked to the back. He was about to try the door when he heard noises from above—the sounds of more than one person
