by Rod Reynolds
‘You don’t—’
‘You didn’t, I’d know. That’s good. Smart move going there – make sure you had my attention.’
I looked him dead in the eye. ‘I’ve lived under the sword long enough. If you’re coming for me, now’s your chance. Otherwise you walk away and leave me and my wife the hell alone.’
The smile disappeared and he held my stare. ‘Tell me one thing: how did you figure out about the bugs?’
I wondered if that was all he really wanted to know. The truth was, his mistaken belief that I’d killed Winfield Callaway was what sparked the notion; a rumour that’d spread through the criminal fraternity that he’d picked up on – but how? Seemed unlikely someone would tell him direct, so it had to be he was overhearing their chatter. Once I’d tested the thought, it made sense of his ability to show up out of the blue. Lizzie’s suspicion that he was already in Las Vegas when she called him to bust me out of jail was almost certainly right; my guess was the foreman at the Flamingo made a call on one of the house lines to warn someone in Siegel’s outfit I’d shown up at the site – and Tanner was listening.
I stayed silent while I thought about all this, and wondered if he’d try to force it out of me.
Instead, he patted me on the shoulder. ‘No matter. You played a bum hand well. The way you compromised Rosenberg was ingenious, and it got you what you wanted.’
‘What did he buy you off with, Tanner?’
‘Buy me? Not even close.’
‘You manoeuvred him into Siegel’s seat.’
He took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Let me ask you this: you know how you win a fight against two grizzlies?’
I stared at him, silent again.
‘You don’t,’ he said. ‘You make them fight each other and you pick off the survivor.’
I threw my hand up. ‘I can’t listen to this horseshit—’
‘It worked, didn’t it? You played your part, be proud.’
‘Why?’ I grabbed his lapel. ‘Why me?’
‘You got yourself into this, I just—’
‘No, don’t lie to my goddamn face. You were the only one knew I was looking for those girls, you set me up for Siegel to find.’
He looked down, feigning chagrin. ‘You were the perfect vessel to stir the pot. Siegel wanted you dead so bad but Moe kept counselling against it, knowing what a pain in the ass you’d be if he could keep running you into him. He just didn’t figure on you outmanoeuvring him as well. Like I said, I’m impressed – and that’s why you have nothing to fear from me. I knew you’d be useful all the way back in Texarkana.’
‘I don’t want a goddamn thing to do with you.’
He tapped the envelope against the flat of his hand. ‘That’s not how these things work, Charlie. You’re in the life, now, it’s where you belong.’ He passed it to me. ‘Go back to Los Angeles. Cool your head in the ocean, we’ll talk when the time’s right. My only condition is you don’t disclose my methods to anyone else. That would necessitate a swift end to our agreement.’ He pointed to the envelope by way of an explanation and walked away whistling ‘Yankee Doodle’.
I waited till he was in his car and then tore it open. Inside was a single photograph.
It showed two women talking on the small porch of a snow-covered house in Iowa, Lizzie and I just visible on the edge of the shot.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My sincere thanks to everyone who has contributed to the creation of this book, and in particular: Angus Cargill, my exceptional editor, whose suggestions and encouragement never fail to improve the manuscript. Jane Gregory, and all the team at Gregory & Co., for taking me under your wing. Lauren Nicoll, for endless enthusiasm and tireless dedication in getting my books into readers’ hands. Mark Burborough, Oliver Wheatley, Jon O’Donnell, James White, Tim Caira, Emma Callaghan and Tarun Naipaul, for your incredible generosity and support.
All the bloggers, readers and reviewers who have championed Charlie Yates with such amazing passion – in particular Liz Barnsley, Victoria Goldman, Joy Kluver, Gordon Mcghie, Christine Elizabeth, Susan Heads, Kate Moloney, Pete Savage, Anne Cater, Janet Emson, David Odeen, Andrew Durston, Dave Graham, Andrew Hill and Linda Boa (with apologies to anyone I’ve forgotten to mention.) All the crew at CS: you know who you are, and why you’re here. Katherine Armstrong and Karen Sullivan for your amazing friendship and advice.
And most of all, my family, for letting me do something that I love.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
After a successful career in advertising, working as a media buyer, Rod Reynolds took City University’s two-year MA in crime writing, where he started The Dark Inside, his first Charlie Yates mystery. He lives in London with his wife and two daughters.
ALSO BY THE AUTHOR
THE DARK INSIDE
BLACK NIGHT FALLING
COPYRIGHT
First published in the UK in 2018
by Faber & Faber Ltd
Bloomsbury House
74–77 Great Russell Street
London WC1B 3DA
This ebook edition first published in 2018
All rights reserved
© Rod Reynolds, 2018
Cover design by Faber
Cover photography courtesy of the Manis (Lloyd Franklin) Collection / UNLV Libraries Special Collection
The right of Rod Reynolds to be identified as author of this work has been asserted in accordance with Section 77 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly
ISBN 978–0–571–33473–5