Read Online The Wizard of Death by Richard; Forrest - Free Book Online Page B

suitcase quickly said, “If Junior’s in trouble again, I’m leaving. I told him that if he did anything again, I would.”
    â€œHe called you?”
    â€œI don’t know where he is.”
    Lyon reached for her hand. Puzzled, she put it in his and he led her toward the couch, where they sat down together. Lyon turned toward her and spoke in a gentle voice. “You must trust me, Loyce.”
    â€œI—I don’t know what’s going on.”
    â€œI think I do, and therefore it’s terribly important that you listen carefully.”
    â€œAll right.” Her voice was low, almost plaintive.
    â€œJunior’s involved in something with people he can’t control. They paid him a good deal of money before the fact, twenty-five hundred, five thousand, and they promised him more.”
    She nodded.
    â€œAs soon as we left here earlier, you called Junior and told him of our visit. He left the station, sold his bike for a ridiculous amount of money, and has gone somewhere. Somewhere nearby and called you, told you to pack, that someone would come for you and take you to him, and then the three of you would go off. But it won’t work that way. You must know that; they won’t let him leave. They won’t let you go with him. They are going to kill him, Loyce. I promise you that. He’s been in contact with them, and they will not allow him to live.”
    She took her hand from Lyon’s and pressed it against her cheek as her eyes stared into his. “Junior’s not a bad guy, he really isn’t.”
    â€œHe’s in well over his head this time. Tell us where he is.”
    â€œHe … he called me.”
    â€œI know he did. From where?”
    â€œI’m to meet him. He said a friend will give him money.”
    â€œWhere?” Lyon asked softly.
    â€œIn—in a bar. Al’s Place in Cyprus.”
    Lyon looked quickly toward Rocco, who was standing by the door. “About a ten-minute ride from here. We had better take her with us this time.”
    Al’s Place was scrunched between two small factories. Its front windows were almost gray with grime, and the neon beer signs cast strange patterns through the dirty glass. Rocco parked the car down the street, away from the sight lines from the bar’s interior.
    Loyce Haney, holding her baby, huddled in the rear seat as Lyon turned toward her. “Do you have a snapshot of Junior?”
    She pulled a small red wallet from her purse and handed it to Lyon. He unsnapped the clasp and flipped through the acetate photo covers until he came to one of a man astride a motorcycle. He held it up and she nodded.
    â€œLet’s go,” Rocco said after glancing at the snapshot.
    In the bar’s dim interior two old men huddled over short beers and stared blankly at the game show on the wall television set. The bartender looked at the newcomers expectantly and took his elbows off the bar. As their eyes adjusted to the dim light, they could see a small back room with high-backed booths.
    Junior Haney sat in the last booth and faced the door. His bottle of beer lay on its side and slowly rocked back and forth on the uneven table, dribbling small gushes of foam across the booth. As they walked toward him, his hands gripped the edge of the table, and he looked at them with blank eyes.
    As Rocco strode ahead and put his hand on his shoulder, Junior slipped sideways until his head thunked against the wall. This movement revealed the knife hilt protruding from his abdomen.
    â€œRainbow,” Junior mumbled as blood frothed from his mouth.

5
    â€œHe’s dead,” Rocco said as he slipped the service revolver from its holster, sprang toward the rear doors and disappeared outside.
    â€œWhat the hell’s going on here?” The bartender stood at the entrance to the back room, glaring at Lyon.
    â€œWho or what is Rainbow?” Lyon snapped.
    â€œWhat in hell you talking about?