Read Online The Lazarus Trap by Davis Bunn - Free Book Online Page B

newspaper banner, he had known he was looking at his hometown. Not Des Moines. He lived in Orlando. The new memory and the newspaper article formed a heat pungent as steam rising from a lava bed. Val watched the clerk talk quietly into the phone and felt pummeled by the words he had read. According to the report, Valentine Haines and Marjorie Copeland, executives of a company called Insignia, had apparently been killed by a massive bomb blast. Terrorists were not believed to have been involved.
    The blast had demolished the top two floors of a building within the Rockefeller Center complex. The floors were home to the Syntec Investment Bank. The only reason there had not been a bloodbath was that the blast had occurred at six forty-five in the morning. The bank’s premises, however, had been completely destroyed.
    The clerk set down the phone. His eyes remained upon Val’s face, inspecting, gauging. “Looks like it’s my turn to ask permission, Mr. Smith.”
    â€œWhat for?”
    â€œSee, there’s some guys, they want to do a little business. Maybe you’d be better off heading upstairs.”
    The prospect of entering his solitary cell held no pleasure whatsoever. “Do I have to?”
    The clerk’s name tag read Vince . His eyes flickered through an instant’s change, something that might have been humor. “There you go, asking me what I never heard before. Do you have to? That ain’t the question. The question is, are you trouble?”
    â€œNot for you. Definitely not.” Val waved in the direction of the stairs. “I just don’t . . .”
    A pair of young men pushed through the outer doors. They crowded the lobby with uptown swagger and noise. The atmosphere palpably condensed. One of the men was rail-thin, dressed in a vest and no shirt, with a thick gold chain bouncing on his chest as he walked. “Man, this is some place, right, Jamie?”
    â€œSure.” His partner was thicker in every possible dimension. He wore an off-white sweater and cotton boat pants. But his swagger was the same, as were the wraparound shades. “It’s something, all right.”
    The thin man stalked to the counter. “Hey, Vince, my man.”
    â€œLong time, Arnold.”
    The desk clerk’s tone stopped the slender man just as he was reaching out to shake hands. Arnold kept his hand moving up and swept off his sunglasses. “Jamie, meet Vince. As in, the man you need to know.”
    â€œVince.”
    The desk clerk nodded once. Val felt as if he had aged into one of the old men normally dressing up the lobby. Pretending that by watching somebody else live the moment he could lay claim to a life himself.
    Arnold went on, “I was just telling my buddy how midtown is moving into Harlem. The prices they’re asking up here these days, it’s unreal.” He did a nervous feint in front of the counter. “A guy wants to do business, uptown is the place to come. Give you a for instance. How much you got out these days, Vince?”
    The desk clerk scowled. “What kind of question is that?”
    â€œHey, we’re all friends here.”
    â€œCorrection. You I know.” Vince turned to face the stockier man. “You can’t be too careful these days. You got undercover cops dressed seriously street, looking to do business.”
    â€œI’m telling you, Jamie’s a friend.”
    â€œThat’s not the issue here. Are you telling me you vouch for this guy?”
    The dance grew more nervous still. “’Course I do. Why else would I bring him in here?”
    â€œStop this two-step you’re doing and look me in the eye. I asked you a simple question. Do you or do you not vouch for this man I don’t know?”
    Arnold grew utterly still. Even time seemed trapped in the amber force of Vince’s gaze. “Yeah, sure. I vouch for him.”
    â€œAll right, then.” Vince offered his hand.