Keeping with Killers (The Salingers Book 1) Read Online Free PDF

sorry. It… it seems that he had a little help. From one of your own.'
    The Boss looked at him, crooked an eyebrow. 'Our own? You mean–'
    'Yes, sir. We believe he's turned. Last we heard, they were heading through the city. The police should… I mean, they will take care of it.'
    'They better. It's what I pay them for.' The Boss rose from his chair, took slow, steady steps around his office. This is supposed to be a place of zen. ' I want to know some things.'
    The assistant craned his neck, looking paranoid, frightened and small. 'Anything, sir.'
    The Boss wasn't a big man. In school they had given him the nickname of Titch and, like most nicknames, the recipient didn't like it. Only a few short months ago somebody had made a mockery of his build in a restaurant. The Boss's associates then taught the man some manners, and soon he came crying, humbled to The Boss. That man was now on the payroll, though his new disability left him unable to work anywhere but at a desk.
    Trying to remain calm, The Boss stopped at the fish tank and watched the peaceful animals that he so badly envied; their entire lives were tranquil and serene. They didn't have to work or worry. Feeding time would come and they would be fed. It seemed as simple as that. No stress, no anxieties… no failures. 'How did you come to learn of this?'
    'Wilkes checked in,' Pimms's voice came from behind. 'He was ruffled up pretty bad.'
    The Boss chortled. 'By Salinger?'
    'No, s-sir. It seems our man did some damage before he broke out of there.'
    He could feel his blood begin to boil. His hands balled into tight fists. The Boss was grinding his teeth again. 'What the hell does he think he's doing?' He turned back to his assistant, staring at him and waiting for answers.
    Pimms began to tremble. His voice clarified his intimidation. 'I don't know, sir. But we have eyes on him for as long as the police do. Salinger, too.'
    The Boss took a deep breath, tried to steady his nerves. He could feel his face getting red and he was getting a little shaky. The doctor had warned him about his blood pressure and, until now, he had started to keep it in check. Breathing fiercely through his nose, he took a seat at his desk, tucked one hand under the other, and rested his chin on them. 'I want them finished. Now.'
    'Finished, sir? Both of them?'
    'Dead. Gone. Done for.'
    Pimms fussed with his glasses, apparently unsure of where to rest his hands. 'There's still a chance that our agent has an agenda that benefits–'
    'Then he should have sought my permission!' He slammed his fist on his desk, making his assistant jump. 'Get out of my sight. And get the detectives over here as soon as you can. I'll be wanting words with them.'
    'Sir.' Pimms stood, turned, and scurried away as quickly as he could.
    'Pimms,' The Boss said, stopping him dead in his tracks. 'Don't fail me again.'
    His assistant nodded and closed the door behind him, leaving him alone with his thoughts, his fish, and a brand new headache. This was terrible news for The Agency, and he would have to tend to it quickly. How hard could it be to keep eyes on a bloody salesman? I own half of London, for Christ's sake. His staff were becoming an embarrassment that he could no longer entertain.
    The Boss picked up his pen, tore a fresh sheet of paper off his pad, and began to conjure up some fresh ideas on how to punish his agent when he reacquires him. Creating pain for people was what he had always been good at. Weak spots had a way of showing themselves to him–that's how me managed to own the politicians.
    The ones that mattered, anyway.
     

Chapter 6
     
    They had used Wilkes's keys to get in his personal vehicle. The man had pretty much thrown Blake into the back seat, like a hostage, and then climbed into the front and brought the car to life. It was a nice car - a black Mercedes, shiny and clean - but Blake had the feeling that it wouldn't stay that way.
    The tyres screeched, kicking up puffs of white smoke. The