Read Online Wild Cards 13 : Card Sharks by George R.R. Martin - Free Book Online Page B

But, uh ... look." I set it all down on the concrete floor and unwrapped it.
    He laughed. "What is it?"
    "I'm not sure. I got it from the fire last night."
    "You were out there?" He leaned forward, looking closely. "I heard the explosions, but I went back to sleep."
    "Mr. Choy, I'm afraid to go to the police. I don't think they'll listen to a joker - especially a kid like me. But somebody's got a whole bunch of these stashed away."
    "More of them, Chuck?" His voice had suddenly grown serious.
    "Yeah. Will you report it, if I tell you?"
    "Tell you what. I'll go to the police with you."
    "Aw, no. The fire chief is in on it. The cops might be, too."
    He frowned thoughtfully. Then he closed his lunchpail and stood up. "I know where to go. No cops. Come on."
    We hiked down to a little Chinatown dive on Mott Street. By the time I had carried the load through the noonday heat that far, I was exhausted and soaked in sweat. For a change, my boss was quiet, instead of friendly and joking all the time.
    Inside, Peter walked up to one of the booths. A skinny, chain-smoking man with his brown hair in a buzz cut sat hunched over, alone. Wearing a baggy black suit, he was poking through a bowl of pork noodles with a fork.
    "Matt? I'm Peter Choy. We used to talk sometimes when I had lunch here regularly. On my old route."
    "Sure, I remember." He tugged his tie a little looser and glanced at me. "So, you want to sit, or what?"
    "I might have a story for you." Peter slid into the booth and gestured for me to join him.
    "Chuck, Matt Rainey here is a Chinatown beat reporter for the New York Mirror . I want you to show him what you have."
    I set the bundle on the table. Then I pulled the edge of the towel back just a little. He watched Matt's face.
    "Say, I haven't seen a mess like that since Korea." Matt's narrow eyes widened.
    "You can tell what it was?" Peter asked.
    He tapped the big piece of metal with a fingernail. "Magnesium case for an incendiary bomb. It should have been filled with thermite, only this one didn't detonate. The case melted down from heat on the outside instead. Properly detonated, it could generate enough heat to turn steel machinery into a molten puddle. This other thing is a piece of detonating cord. Wrap that around a five-gallon gas can and boom . And the last thing ... maybe part of a container for phosphorous trioxide, the stuff in hand grenades." He looked at me. "What of it, kid?"
    "I have to be anonymous," I said. "You can't use my name or what I look like or anything."
    Matt blew smoke out to one side and grinned cynically. "You don't want your name in the paper? All that fame and glory?"
    "You take it," I said.
    "All right, then. Give."
    "This was in the big Jokertown fire last night. Stuff like this helped start it. There's another whole warehouse full of these. And word on the street is, they belong to racket guys."
    Peter turned and stared at me in amazement. 
    "Which guys? You got a name, kid, or just teenage gossip?"
    "Lansky. He rented the warehouses."
    Matt's eyebrows shot up. He puffed on his cigarette again and blew out more smoke. "That fire was real enough; I took a look this morning after I got the word. Where's the second warehouse?"
    I told him.
    "And you're giving me this tip free and clear? You won't come back later on, whining that I gypped you on this?"
    "Aw, heck, no. I got to live around here."
    Matt dropped the towel over the stuff. "Why not the cops?"
    "He said the fire chief is in on it," said Peter. "Cops might be, too. And he's just a kid."
    " And a joker. All right, I'll check it out. And I keep this. Now leave me alone, all right?"
    I slid out of the booth, glad to get away from him. Peter thanked him. Out on the street again, though, even Peter let out a long breath of relief. Then we started to walk.
    "In a sense, he's taking advantage of you," said Peter. "If that proves out, he'll get lots of credit that should go to you."
    "It's okay with me," I said.
    ***
    Tonight was the night.