Page 123 of Two Kinds of Stranger

‘What’s the damage?’

‘Depends. Somewhere between fifteen and twenty is the normal price, but for ex-cops I gotta charge more. You’re looking at twenty-five apiece.’

‘I can do that. Two things you need to know. One of them is a woman. You got a problem with that?’

‘Not in the slightest.’

‘You sure? ’Cause I had this problem before with contractors. They’re all gung-ho when they get their deposit, but they pussy out when it comes time to pull the trigger on a bitch. You’re not going to pussy out on me, are you?’

‘This wouldn’t be the first time I done a woman.’

‘I don’t know. I need to be sure you’re going to go through with this. This is a time-sensitive thing.’

‘I took out a little old lady in her own house. Broke her neck then dumped her over her balcony. Then I drove to an all-night diner and ate steak and eggs and then some pie. That make you feel better?’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’

‘What’s the second thing I need to know?’

‘I need them taken out tonight.’

‘Tonight? It’s like seven already? That’s not possible.’

‘I know exactly where they will be. And they damn sure won’t be expecting you. I can add another ten to the deal. That’s sixty grand for a night’s work. Half now, half on fulfilment.’

Bruno stood up from the desk, looked out of the window at the mountain of rotting scrap. He’d had to stare at that pile of metal garbage all day. Every day. Just like his old man had. He didn’t know this guy, but if he knew Arthur well enough for himto give a recommendation for his friend, then he must be on the level.

And he sounded desperate.

‘Why tonight?’ asked Bruno.

‘I don’t think you need to worry about that. It’s got to be now or never. That’s all you need to know.’

A huge rat, the size of a small terrier, scuttled over the rusted hood of a Ford Pinto that sat atop the mound of junked cars.

‘Seventy-five,’ said Bruno. ‘Half now. Half when the job’s done. Or find somebody else.’

A pause.

For a moment, Bruno worried that he had priced himself out of the market. He had some cash squirreled away, but not enough to live on. The money from the Betty Le Saux job had never come through. That lawyer had done Cross out of his inheritance. Cross had been a smart guy, and Bruno knew that if he was ever going to get a big payday, it would likely come through Cross. The Le Saux job had been a washout, but now one of Cross’s old pals might just come through for him. With that kind of money, Bruno could sell up and ship out. His days of doing five-grand hits for gangbangers and dirty cops were over.

One more job.

Tonight.

He could be in Baltimore by morning, then catch a plane and by this time tomorrow night he’d be sipping a cocktail in a bar in Boca Raton.

If he hadn’t blown it already.

‘Deal,’ said the man.

Bruno smiled, but it quickly faded. There was nothing really holding him back. He could get out of the city anytime, but a strange sense of loyalty as well as a lack of funds had kept him in his father’s junkyard. He had promised Arthur that he would take out Bloch. She had managed to get away when he’d tried tokill her quietly. He hated leaving loose ends. And he would feel bad leaving without fulfilling that promise to his late friend. But seventy-five large was enough to at least make him feel better.

‘Give me your information and I’ll do the transfer,’ said the voice on the phone.

‘Just one word of warning,’ said Bruno. ‘When the job is done, you transfer the rest immediately. If you don’t pay, you become the next target. You understand?’

‘I got it. Your targets are Gabriel Lake and Melissa Bloch. You can find them in. . .’