The Fury - Jason Pinter [112]
"That would make my holiday," the woman said.
"Now, you mentioned the newspapers. This reporter
who was on the scene. Parker. I don't like his reputa
tion, and he is one of your 'numerous witnesses.' The
last thing we need is for him to suddenly think he saw
something he didn't see. Do you think he will be a
problem?"
Sevi Makhoulian unfolded his hands, placed them
palms down on the table. From the angle he was standing
at Detective Sevi Makhoulian could see the three
numbers tattooed across the woman's toned right
shoulder.
7.1.8.
"I don't think so. Parker and I have spoken numerous
times over the last few weeks. Parker's only concern was
finding his brother's killer. He did that, in Evans. As far
as Parker is concerned, the case is closed. I do have
sources within the industry that will tell me if that
changes."
"You don't sound convinced," she said. Her eyes
narrowed. Makhoulian found his palms sweating. He
wiped them on his pants, hoping she didn't notice.
"Parker has a reputation as a young bulldog. He
was involved in the death of Michael DiForio a few
years back."
"That's right!" she said, now beaming. "DiForio
thought Parker had stolen from him. He even went so
far as to hire Shelton Barnes."
"That's right."
"And look how that turned out." She smiled. Mak
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325
houlian did too. "Bodies like Callahan, Gaines and
Evans can disappear without many tears. The families
bury them, the city moves on. They were insulated.
Parker has friends. I never authorized the hit on Parker
at his apartment. That was Evans acting alone when he
realized Parker was getting too close. We do not move
unless we are forced."
"I understand that. If I hear anything..."
"You will let Corporal Malloy know before you take
another breath."
The woman stood up, revealing her full height, full
frame. She was a shade under six feet tall. She extended
a grip, which the detective took. She clasped Makhou
lian's hand, fingers digging in until the detective
winced. Her eyes were locked on Makoulian's, the
pupils wide, burning. For an instant, Sevi Makhoulian
feared for his life. Then the grip loosened. The woman
turned around and sat back behind her desk. As he stood
up to leave, Sevi Makhoulian noticed one more thing
sitting upon the nearly empty desk. A small black rock,
no larger than a pebble. It had a rough surface, the color
of coal.
With nothing else of note, Makhoulian knew it was
not there by mistake.
"Is that it?" the detective asked, pointing to the
small stone.
"I expect to be able to begin shipments within six
months," the woman continued, ignoring the question.
"Right now I'm taking your word that we can resume
without any further interruptions, issues or problems.
If I feel for one moment that you're holding back from
me, or information is coming faster than you can relay
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Jason Pinter
it, I will detach your head from your body with the tips
of my fingernails and find someone useful. Do you
understand me, Detective? "
"I do," Detective Makhoulian said, looking at that
small black rock. "And I give you my word when I say
that they have no idea."
* * * * *
Acknowledgments
You don't write one book, let alone four, without some
incredible support, advice and a heaping helping of
good old-fashioned luck. Many people have been in
my corner from day one of this journey, while many I've
been fortunate enough to meet along the way. If I
actually thanked everyone who had any positive impact
on my first four books, this page would run longer than
a Charlton Heston movie. So here's the condensed list,
the people who've had the biggest impact (and the
people who groveled the most).
A sincere, knees-on-the-ground, we're not worthy
thank-you to Joe Veltre, my agent, and Linda McFall,
my editor. Joe and Linda have had tremendous input on
every book, have made me a better writer and a better
author, and their passion and guidance resonates on
every page. If you're able to find my books, read them
and enjoy them, they deserve the credit.
My thanks