Good As Gone Read Online Free PDF

TAG Heuer, courtesy of the French police, courtesy of a coke kingpin they took down earlier in the week, and saw that it was closing in on one A.M. Forty-eight hours since Lindsay had been abducted. The little girl was fast running out of time.
    “See the man you’re looking for?” I asked Claude.
    “No, but I think I see his flatmate. Over there.” I followed his finger to a lanky lad who looked to be in his midtwenties. “Name’s Geoffrey. Want me to call him over here?”
    “Please do.”
    Claude whistled. Geoffrey and a few others looked our way. Claude motioned him over, and Geoffrey held up an index finger, then grudgingly peeled himself away from the Asian girl he’d been chatting with.
    “Don’t get any ideas,” Claude warned me. “Geoffrey and his flatmate are both straight.”
    “Wouldn’t think of it,” I said.
    Geoffrey couldn’t speak English. Or wouldn’t. So Claude translated. Told him I was an American looking to roll, but I’d only pop 007s. After some back-and-forth, Claude turned to me and said that Geoffrey’s flatmate, Remy, was back at the flat with a woman and didn’t want to be disturbed tonight.
    “Tell him I won’t be any bother. I just want to purchase the pills and run.”
    Geoffrey seemed to understand me. Instead of waiting for the translation, he replied to Claude in French.
    Claude said to me, “Geoffrey says, ‘Forget it. Not tonight.’ But he can sell you something better. He has blue Batmans, green Christmas trees, and Mickey Ds. Any one of those can get you off longer than a 007.”
    I pulled a wad of euros from my pocket and spoke directly to Geoffrey in English.
    “Listen,” I said. “I’ll pay your flatmate a hundred euros a pill for three pills, and throw in another two hundred for you in order to show my appreciation. Now what do you say?”
    Geoffrey stared at the money. “I say you are either crazy or you are a cop. Maybe both.”
    “Maybe I’m just rich and used to getting what I want,” I said. “Do you know anyone else in Paris who can sell me some 007s?”
    Geoffrey shook his head. “Remy is the only one in the whole city. These 007s, they are not even in fashion.”
    “Well, I intend to bring them back into the limelight. So do we have a deal or not?”
    Geoffrey pulled out his iPhone.

Chapter 6
    Geoffrey and I took the Metro from George V to Saint-Michel in the Latin Quarter. From there we walked to Geoffrey’s flat on Rue Galande. We didn’t speak two words the entire way. I could tell the kid was nervous, his hands constantly twitching, eyes darting among passengers like a pinball machine. I’d told Claude to wait for me at Le Queen. If things turned messy, I didn’t want to risk his getting involved or even hurt. He made me promise I’d return. I promised, knowing it was a promise I wouldn’t keep. Luckily, all he was out was the price of one diva martini at Le Cab. Wouldn’t take him very long to get over me. Not in Paris. Not at Le Queen.
    The third-floor flat was exactly what you’d expect of an Old World apartment in Paris. A tight space, lots of strong, weathered wood. Solid furniture that didn’t look like it came from IKEA. It was an impressive place for a couple of twentysomething bachelors. I stood in the living area, as instructed, and stared out the window at the dark, narrow cobblestone street as Geoffrey slipped down the hall to retrieve his flatmate.
    Following a tap at his door, I heard Remy’s voice. Sounded as though Remy didn’t want to be disturbed, indeed. Too bad. I intended to disturb him.
    Through the door, Geoffrey tried to reason with him. The word euros was used more than once. After a few minutes, I heard the creaking of door hinges.
    “Merci,” Geoffrey said, then the door slammed shut.
    That wouldn’t do at all. I met Geoffrey at the end of the hall. He was staring down at his palm, pushing pills around with his finger. He was startled to see me.
    “I told you to wait near the sofa,” he