Miss O’Dell.”
“What’d they say?”
“Ain’t sure, Cap’n. I just heard the names and somethin’ about a piece of the action.”
“Were they talking about Grand View?”
“That’s all I know. I can tell you this, Riker’s been jumpy as a cat all day. Like I been tellin’ you for a while, he wants some of that outta-town high-roller action up there. Then there’s all this talk about them on the Hill forming some kinda council and shuttin’ him down. And there’s those two times his boats got sunk out in the drink.”
“I don’t know anything about that. You think these guys are shooters?”
“All I know is I seen rods bulgin’ under their coats. I know when a bozo’s loaded. I’m supposed to tell Schuster when I see it, but I figure since it was Riker set ’em up, he knows if they’re carrying or not.”
“You off duty?”
“Just got off. I really got bad jitters meetin’ like this in broad daylight.”
Brodie took a five out of his pocket and draped his arm over the back of the front seat.
“Here’s an extra fin. Why don’t you go over, play a little poker, and keep an eye out for those four. I’m off tonight. Gonna eat dinner at Wendy’s, then maybe go up to Delilah’s. Call me if anything looks screwy to you.”
“Okay. Thanks.” The door opened and shut quietly.
Brodie drove the four blocks to the diner and went in. Wendy was barely in her twenties and had inherited the eatery from her father, who drank too much, ate too much, and a year earlier had dropped dead behind the counter one morning while fixing an order of ham and eggs.
She was a plain girl with ashen hair and a ready smile for her customers. She leaned across the counter as Brodie entered.
“Come to whisk me away to the Garden of Eden?” she said.
“I came for the meat loaf special,” Brodie said with a crooked grin. “If it’s real good, maybe I’ll whisk you away after I eat.”
“I’ll settle for that.”
“Where is everybody? The joint’s empty.”
“It’s early.” She reached under the counter and handed him the newspaper.
“Okay if I use the phone a minute?” Brodie asked.
“Anything for you,” she said, and put the telephone on the counter. Brodie got the operator and called the sheriff’s office. Andy Sloan, the assistant deputy, answered.
“Andy, it’s Brodie. Anything going on?”
“It’s quiet. I got a guy back in the lockup for beating up his old lady and that’s about it.”
“Is Bix there?”
Bix was the jailer. He had lost a leg at the Marne and hobbled around on a homemade crutch, a quiet man who made terrible coffee.
“Yeah.”
“Take a drive up on the Hill and nose around, then stop off at Delilah’s and hang out. I’ll stop by after I eat.”
“Something up?”
“Maybe. We got four heeled out-of-towners in a black Ford at the Double Eagle. I don’t think they’re lost.”
“I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“See you at Grand View in an hour or so.”
He hung up and took his usual booth in the corner of the place and read the paper. A few customers came in and sat at the counter. Brodie was finishing a piece of pie and washing it down with coffee when Wendy said, “Here comes trouble.”
Arnie Riker was a man who strutted when he walked, swinging his arms like a soldier on parade and swaying back and forth. He was crossing the street, followed by his blond bodyguard, Lars Schuster, a muscular ex- prizefighter with the mashed nose and cauliflower ears to prove it.
“Hell, they’re comin’ in,” Wendy groaned. “They never eat here.”
“I don’t think they’re coming in to eat.” Culhane picked up the paper and held it in front of him, staring over the top. “Just treat ’em like customers. If there’s a problem, let me handle it.”
Riker and Schuster entered the diner, sat at the counter across from Culhane. Brodie ignored them, stared at the sports page of the newspaper.
“What can I do you for?” Wendy asked as cheerily as she could.
“I hear you make a great cup a coffee. You make a great cup a coffee, Wendy?”
She went to the urn and drew two cups of coffee and put them in front of Riker and Schuster.
“You tell me,” she said, still smiling.
Schuster ignored the cup. Riker took a sip, rolled it around in his mouth, and swallowed it.
“Not bad,” he said. “Maybe I’ll stop in now and then-when I’m feelin’ blue. Coffee perks me up.”
“You feeling blue?”
“Yeah. Maybe you heard, I lost a fishing boat the other night. Lucky there was a Coast Guard boat nearby and they pulled my boys out.”
“That was lucky,” Wendy said. She was getting nervous.
“Or maybe it wasn’t luck.” He swung the counter seat around and stared at Culhane. “Maybe a boat full of Feds came aboard first and threw all my fish overboard and pulled the plug on the boat, and then the Coast Guard pulled up to make sure nobody got hurt.”
Culhane ignored him.
“It’s happened to me twice now. Always way out there,” he waved toward the ocean. “Never anywhere near shore, and they never make a case against me or any of my people. Don’t that seem odd to you?”
Wendy walked away to wait on a customer. Riker continued to stare at Culhane.
“I said, ‘Don’t that seem odd to you?’ ” he repeated.
Culhane laid the paper aside.
“Was that crack aimed at me?”
“It was a ‘what if’ kinda question. Like what if the big shots on the Hill wanted to dry me up without causing a big investigation here.”
“I wouldn’t know anything about that.”
“You’re the law around here. You’re just waiting for Tallman to drop dead of old age.”
Culhane smiled. “Haven’t you heard, Riker, Buck’s gonna live forever. Maybe you ought to stop fishing at night.”
“Ain’t you the funny one.”
“What’re you crying to me for? I don’t have anything to do with the Feds. And I don’t know anybody in the Coast Guard.”
“Maybe your pal Bucky has friends in high places. Or Gorman. Or some of those other big shots on the Hill.”
“I wouldn’t know, Riker.”
“I’m not sure I believe you.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass whether you believe me or not. But if I was you, I wouldn’t call me a liar.”
The blond muscleman started to get up.
“Where are you going?” Brodie said to him.
“Relax, Lars, we’re just talkin’ about ‘what if’ here. Ain’t that right, Culhane? For instance, what if I owned a piece of Grand View? Me and Delilah would be partners and maybe all this harassment would go away.”
“Maybe it would go away if you had a heart attack. Or ‘what if’ somebody stuck a. 45 up your ass and blew your brains out.”
“Hey there,” Schuster said and stood up.
From the corner of his eye, Brodie saw a black Ford wheel from behind the Double Eagle Hotel onto the main drag a block away and screech toward the Hill. Four men were in the car.
“What the hell…” Brodie said.
The phone rang and Wendy answered it.
