A Song In The Dark Read Online Free PDF Page B

won’t?” asked Kroun.
    â€œYou’ll do what you have to do. But one question: after I’m gone is Gordy still running things? I’d hate to think I went through all that shit with Bristow, then got scragged by you and it be for nothing.”
    No one spoke, but another murmur ran through the room about that fine point. I could feel all of them looking at me. Impossible to tell what they might be thinking.
    The simple response for Kroun would be something smart-sounding and harsh, but he didn’t do it. “You’re ready to die?”
    I shrugged. “During my time with Bristow I kinda got used to the idea. If you need to kill me, there’s nothing I can do to stop you. I just want to make sure Gordy gets something out of it.”
    His dark eyes flickered once. “You sound like you got an angle to bargain with.”
    â€œMaybe.”
    â€œWhat would that be?”
    â€œNothing you’ll want to share with so many ears flapping.” Even with the radio to mask most of our talk, there were plenty of listeners at hand. Too many for a paranoid man.
    He thought it over. They’d seen Jack Fleming the wiseacre, not the wiseguy, called on the carpet and giving respect to the boss. Kroun had made his point. He shot a look to Strome and signed to Mitchell. The muzzle went away. Strome told the boys to leave.
    There were protests from those who knew the best part of the show was about to take place. Others flatly refused, standing firm, arms crossed.
    Kroun stood up. There was nothing threatening to his posture, and the lines of his natty brown suit were undistorted by hidden firearms of any size. Many of the guys herewere taller or wider or both, but to a man, they fell silent. He didn’t make a sound either, just looked at them while the radio blared. He was quite still, just his head moving enough so he could rake them with those intense dark eyes.
    Damned if it didn’t work. Some grumbled as they left, but they filed out. Derner, Strome, and Kroun’s man Mitchell remained.
    â€œPrivate enough?” Kroun asked. He turned those eyes on me.
    â€œIf you trust your guy like I trust Gordy’s.”
    He gave a short grunt. Couldn’t tell if it was a laugh. He came around the desk to look down at me. “What’s your angle, kid?”
    â€œYou. You being smarter than you let on to me over the phone.”
    â€œOh, yeah?” He hitched one hip onto the desk.
    â€œFor which I want to apologize. I got a mouth on me, nothing personal. Whenever you called things were running tense on this side, so I was talking short without much time to think things through. But that’s changed, and since then I’ve seen what was going on more clearly.”
    â€œWhich was . . . ?”
    â€œFor starters: why your boy was sent here in the first place. Gordy told me Bristow had powerful friends he’d convinced that he could do a better job of running the Chicago operation. Gordy was expected to hand it over. If he didn’t, he’d be killed or in the middle of a gang war. That, Mr. Kroun, was . . . extremely brainless.”
    â€œUh-huh.” He wasn’t agreeing, only encouraging me to continue.
    â€œYou guys had to know Gordy would never roll over for the likes of Bristow. Now it was either New York beingstupid and for the hell of it putting him and Gordy in the same pen like a couple of fighting dogs just to see what happens or . . . you had something else going.”
    â€œWhich was?”
    â€œPlaying Hog Bristow to the limit. You sent him out here, apparently to give him what he wants, then Gordy does what he’s best at: listening, collecting information. He got plenty out of Hog every night until the guy was too drunk to talk. And all that time Hog is feeling sure of himself because he has New York to back him up and thinks Gordy’s got no choice about handing over the operation. But I’m