Ill-Fame (A Detective Harm Queen Novel Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

the masses of Scandinavian immigrants who were pouring into Minnesota. Many of them had settled in the working areas of Minneapolis, and needed employment, certainly, but in many cases their needs were much more immediate: shelter, clothing, food and medical care. This meant lots of contacts amongst the meager and disregarded. Queen figured his friend might be able to stretch out his feelers for murmurs of men with the whiff of revolution about them.
    He hopped off the gig and immediately swore. Pain in his knee. You’re not a young man anymore, he chided himself. He shook out his leg but before he could take a step, Peder was already at the door, waving and smiling. His thinning blond hair sat high on his head, whipping about from a breeze that crossed the yard.
    “Vell, vat do ve haff here?” he asked, as he pointed to Queen’s horse. “You’ve giffin up stealing police vagons to get around?”
    “And about time, right?” Queen walked to the door, shook Peder’s hand fondly, and followed him inside. It was a cozy interior, with a wicker settee, a rocking chair and a stuffed corduroy armchair filling the room. A parlor stove stood in the corner, and a kerosene lamp swung from a hook in the ceiling. A rag carpet lay on the floor, striped with red and blue, where a tabby cat stretched out lazily in the warmth.
    Queen smiled when a waft of sour cream pie caught his nose, and he heard light footsteps in the kitchen. Karoline was here.
    “I’d like to speak to you, Peder, while we’re alone,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I need your help.”
    “Vit vat?”
    Queen told him the mad account of the chewed-off finger, and when the detective asked him for his favor, Peder nodded, concern rumpling his brow.
    “Ya, ya. I can send some men to ask around. Dere’s a saloon near de river. A rowdy place, vit a lot of dat kind of talk. I’ll send Egeberg.”
    Egeberg was a cunning fellow, and Queen approved of his choice. However, while the man’s English was perfect, his ability to use his fists left much to be desired. Queen didn’t want to take any chances.
    “Could you send Big Snorre as well? I think Egeberg might need some clout behind him.”
    Peder thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Ya, dat is a good idea, Harm.”
    “And as quickly as you can,” he said, just as his future bride stepped in from the kitchen. Beaming, she ran to him and threw her arms around his back. He laughed; she pulled his head down to match hers, and after they exchanged a kiss, he glanced over at his brother-in-law-to-be with a sheepish half-smile.
    “I don’t care,” Peder said, amused. “Ve don’t have pretensions in dis house.”
    “Sit down,” Karoline said, eyes sparkling. “I’ve missed you ever so much.”
    “And I you,” he replied, putting himself in the rocker. It creaked under his weight, but not as much as it would have four months ago, before he’d stopped drinking. Since he’d halted his daily intake of whiskey, he felt more vigorous. More on edge, certainly, but not as depressed as before. Of course Karoline was the main reason for his sprightly cast. She wasn’t a classic beauty, but he saw nothing but loveliness in her world-wise eyes, working hands, and unwaveringly positive spirit. She still had an air that would turn the heads of envious men, but it was naturally there. Nothing was hollow or contrived with her.
    “Have you been staying to the straight and narrow?” she asked with a laugh, knowing the answer already.
    He held back a smile and looked down, shaking his head. “That old chestnut, dearest? My job isn’t peril-free.”
    “But you’re not putting yourself in danger’s way, are you? Not purposely?”
    “No, Karoline.”
    “You were almost killed. Once in Saint Paul, and then near Hastings.”
    “I’m not going to either of those places anytime soon.”
    “Promise me, then,” she said.
    “Unless I’m invited to Saint Paul for lunch with the mayor, I’ve no