Read Online Crime Zero by Michael Cordy - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Michael Cordy
Tags: Fiction, Medical, Thrillers, Espionage, Technology, Technological, Free Will and Determinism, Criminal psychology
Ads: Link
old hood?" Decker wanted to talk to his grandfather about Axelman, and instead Matty was giving a music lesson to a man reputed to head up one of the most powerful Mafia families on the West Coast. Decker knew about Barzini. His business--real estate and lots of it--was ostensibly legit, and he'd famously donated one million dollars a year to the San Francisco Symphony for the last decade or so. However, it was widely recognized by the great and the good that Barzini was still far from respectable.
But Matty had never cared much for the great and the good, and over the last few years the sixty-year-old Mafia man and the eighty-year-old concert violinist had become unlikely friends. Perhaps that was why Matty felt so relaxed about leaving his door and windows unlocked. Nobody with half a brain cell was going to burgle this place with a pal of Joey Barzini's living there.
"Why do you still see him, Gramps? And why do you invite him here? I don't like your dealing with crooks."
Matty frowned. "Because he's my friend and because he comes to visit. And just because he's from a criminal family, it doesn't mean he's a crook."
Decker couldn't argue with that.
"Matty, how are you?" a rich voice called from the stairs.
"I'm fine, Joey. Come on up."
Decker shook his head. "Have a good lesson, Gramps," he said. "I'm going to find a drink."
"Luke, don't go."
Decker rested a hand on his shoulder. "Gramps, I came to see you, not Joey Barzini. Don't worry. I'll be back later." Turning to leave, Decker wasn't really angry about his grandfather's consorting with Barzini. He wasn't even angry about not being able to talk about Axelman. In fact he was kind of relieved he could leave that particular sleeping dog undisturbed. If he was honest, he was angry with himself for being unable to shrug off Axelman's stupid words.
On the stairs he passed a huge man in a suit. The violin case he held looked like a toy in his hands. He had blue-black hair and the darkest eyes Decker had ever seen. Decker knew Barzini was about sixty, but the man looked little more than forty-five.
They acknowledged each other with a cautious smile, never having met face-to-face before. "Your grandfather's a remarkable man," was all Barzini said.
"That I know," said Decker. "Enjoy your lesson."
Outside, Decker breathed in the evening air and walked to his car. He was even free now to catch up with Kathy Kerr. But he quickly dismissed the thought. He would call Hank Butcher or whoever was around and have a few cold beers. He would feel better after that.
He didn't see the white BMW pull up and park outside Matty's house as he pulled away from the curb and drove downtown. And he certainly didn't see Axelman's lawyer, Tad Rosenblum, climb out and knock on Matty's front door. In his right hand he held an envelope addressed in a spidery handwritten scrawl to Special Agent Luke Decker.
Chapter 6.
Mendoza Drive, Two Miles West of Stanford University. Wednesday, October 29, 9:12 P.M.
"She didn't even seem excited when I told her the news," Dr. Kathy Kerr complained, taking another sip of her Earl Grey tea. "It's been almost nine years of damn hard work, and we've actually gained FDA approval to start Phase Two efficacy trials. We've proved that Vector Nine is safe on animal and now healthy human volunteers. Finally we can go ahead and see if Project Conscience actually works on violent criminals. But is the great Alice Prince excited? Is she, like hell?
"And she was pretty quick to put those vials back in that precious safe of hers when I came in. She may be brilliant, but at times she can be bloody paranoid."
Kathy looked at the face opposite hers and smiled. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you, Rocky?"
As if to prove her correct, the large chimp cocked his head to one side and proceeded to scratch his chin. Then he turned back to the flickering portable TV on the step outside his pen, its extension power cable trailing back across the yard to the
But Matty had never cared much for the great and the good, and over the last few years the sixty-year-old Mafia man and the eighty-year-old concert violinist had become unlikely friends. Perhaps that was why Matty felt so relaxed about leaving his door and windows unlocked. Nobody with half a brain cell was going to burgle this place with a pal of Joey Barzini's living there.
"Why do you still see him, Gramps? And why do you invite him here? I don't like your dealing with crooks."
Matty frowned. "Because he's my friend and because he comes to visit. And just because he's from a criminal family, it doesn't mean he's a crook."
Decker couldn't argue with that.
"Matty, how are you?" a rich voice called from the stairs.
"I'm fine, Joey. Come on up."
Decker shook his head. "Have a good lesson, Gramps," he said. "I'm going to find a drink."
"Luke, don't go."
Decker rested a hand on his shoulder. "Gramps, I came to see you, not Joey Barzini. Don't worry. I'll be back later." Turning to leave, Decker wasn't really angry about his grandfather's consorting with Barzini. He wasn't even angry about not being able to talk about Axelman. In fact he was kind of relieved he could leave that particular sleeping dog undisturbed. If he was honest, he was angry with himself for being unable to shrug off Axelman's stupid words.
On the stairs he passed a huge man in a suit. The violin case he held looked like a toy in his hands. He had blue-black hair and the darkest eyes Decker had ever seen. Decker knew Barzini was about sixty, but the man looked little more than forty-five.
They acknowledged each other with a cautious smile, never having met face-to-face before. "Your grandfather's a remarkable man," was all Barzini said.
"That I know," said Decker. "Enjoy your lesson."
Outside, Decker breathed in the evening air and walked to his car. He was even free now to catch up with Kathy Kerr. But he quickly dismissed the thought. He would call Hank Butcher or whoever was around and have a few cold beers. He would feel better after that.
He didn't see the white BMW pull up and park outside Matty's house as he pulled away from the curb and drove downtown. And he certainly didn't see Axelman's lawyer, Tad Rosenblum, climb out and knock on Matty's front door. In his right hand he held an envelope addressed in a spidery handwritten scrawl to Special Agent Luke Decker.
Chapter 6.
Mendoza Drive, Two Miles West of Stanford University. Wednesday, October 29, 9:12 P.M.
"She didn't even seem excited when I told her the news," Dr. Kathy Kerr complained, taking another sip of her Earl Grey tea. "It's been almost nine years of damn hard work, and we've actually gained FDA approval to start Phase Two efficacy trials. We've proved that Vector Nine is safe on animal and now healthy human volunteers. Finally we can go ahead and see if Project Conscience actually works on violent criminals. But is the great Alice Prince excited? Is she, like hell?
"And she was pretty quick to put those vials back in that precious safe of hers when I came in. She may be brilliant, but at times she can be bloody paranoid."
Kathy looked at the face opposite hers and smiled. "You don't know what I'm talking about, do you, Rocky?"
As if to prove her correct, the large chimp cocked his head to one side and proceeded to scratch his chin. Then he turned back to the flickering portable TV on the step outside his pen, its extension power cable trailing back across the yard to the
Similar Books
