Read Online Shoot the Piano Player by David Goodis - Free Book Online Page A

glanced at Morris. For some moments it was quiet. Then Feather said to Eddie, "You wouldn't be getting cute, would you?"
Eddie smiled at the short, thin man and made no answer.
"Do yourself a favor," Feather said quietly. "Don't be cute with me. I'll only get irritated and then we can't talk business. I'll be too upset." He was looking at the steering wheel. He played his thin fingers around the smooth rim of the steering wheel. "Now let's see. Where were we?"
"It was three," Morris offered. "He wouldn't sell at three. So what I think is, you offer him five--"
"All right," Feather said. He looked at Eddie. "Five hundred dollars."
Eddie glanced down at the cigarette between his fingers. He lifted it to his mouth and took a meditative drag.
"Five hundred," Feather said. "And no more."
"That's final?"
"Capped," Feather said, and reached inside his jacket, going for the billfold.
"Nothing doing." Eddie said.
Feather exchanged another look with Morris. "I don't get this," Feather said. He spoke as though Eddie weren't there. "I've seen all kinds, but this one here is new to me. What gives with him?"
"You're asking me?" Morris made a hopeless gesture, his palms out and up. "I can't reach out that far. He's moon material."
Eddie was wearing the soft-easy smile and gazing at nothing. He stood there taking small drags at the cigarette. His overcoat was unbuttoned, as though he weren't aware of wind and snow. The two men in the car were staring at him, waiting for him to say something, to give some indication that he was actually there.
And finally, from Feather, "All right, let's try it from another angle." His voice was mild. "It's this way, Eddie. All we wanna do is talk to him. We're not out to hurt him."
"Hurt who?"
Feather snapped his fingers. "Come on, let's put it on the table. You know who I'm talking about. Your brother. Your brother Turley'
Eddie's expression didn't change. He didn't even blink. He was saying to himself, Well, there it is. They know you're his brother. So now you're in it, you're pulled in and I wish you could figure a way to slide out.
He heard Feather saying, "We just wanna sit him down and have a little talk. All you gotta do is make the connection."
"I can't do that," he said. "I don't know where he is."
Then, from Morris, "You sure about that? You sure you ain't trying to protect him?"
"Why should I?" Eddie shrugged. "He's only my brother. For half a grand I'd be a fool not to hand him over. After all, what's a brother? A brother means nothing."
"Now he's getting cute again," Feather said.
"A brother, a mother, a father," Eddie said with another shrug, "they ain't important at all. Like merchandise you sell across a counter. That is," and his voice dropped just a little, "according to certain ways of thinking'
"What's he saying now?" Morris wanted to know.
"I think he's telling us to go to hell," Feather said. Then he looked at Morris, and he nodded slowly, and Morris took out the revolver. Then Feather said to Eddie, "Open the door. Get in."
Eddie stood there smiling at them.
"He wants it," Morris said, and then there was the sound of the safety catch.
"That's a pretty noise," Eddie said.
"You wanna hear something really pretty?" Feather murmured.
"First you gotta count to five," Eddie told him. "Go on, count to five, I wanna hear you count."
Feather's thin face was powder-white. "Let's make it three." But as he said it he was looking past Eddie.
Eddie was saying, "All right, we'll count to three. You want me to count for you?"
"Later," Feather said, still looking past him, and smiling now. "That is, when she gets here."
Just then Eddie felt the snow and the wind. The wind was very cold. He heard himself saying, "When who gets here?"
"The skirt," Feather said. "The skirt we saw you with last night. She's coming to pay you a visit."
He turned and saw her coming down the street. She was crossing the street diagonally, coming toward the car. He raised his hand just high enough to make the warning gesture,