Kill the King Read Online Free PDF

glib question. He expected Tyler to know
better than that.
    “Fuck no. The
drug money is not flowing in this city anymore, not with the
goddamn skinheads fucking things up for us. A lot of the smaller
gangs are too scared to deal in their own neighbourhoods, so a big
slice of our easy income has disappeared. Most of our dope now gets
shipped to other cities. Glory and praise to God, we still control
the fucking docks. That’s where we still get most of our money,
moving shit in and out of there. The operating costs keep going up
with that as well. We’re getting fucked either way.”
    The large man
then leaned closer to Tyler, his square jaw leaning on his granite
knuckles for support. The overlong talk of business had begun to
tire him out. “The unions are asking for more money, but other than
that we’re not under any threat from them. We keep them well-paid,
and so long as they still have jobs and enough money to feed their
families, they won’t join the Fourteens. We don’t want to just hand
them a whole new army of big strong union boys with an axe to grind
against us. We don’t have enough money to buy them all off. We’re
skating on very fucking thin ice, my friend.”
    Last night’s
run-in with the Fourteens was more than enough proof that great
danger was lurking just around the corner. The city’s criminal
underworld had been usurped, and even the Family wasn’t safe
anymore. Impunity was no longer a guarantee. Anyone could be in the
crosshairs.
    And yet,
something else seemed to be bothering Khaled. Tyler’s long history
of interrogating people had made him adept at reading faces. He
knew that Khaled had something on his mind; he looked like he had
an annoying itch that he couldn’t scratch. Tyler took a moment to
stare at Khaled, studiously watching and waiting to provoke a
reaction. At first Khaled looked back at him quizzically, probably
hoping that a false expression of confusion would be enough to
throw him off. This would not be enough to dissuade him, and
finally Khaled grew so ill at ease that he couldn’t bear it any
longer.
    “There’s
another reason why I wanted to bring you here, before you got a
chance to speak with Marko. There’s something else I wanted to talk
about with you.”
    Tyler took a
sip of coffee, his unblinking eyes remaining fixed on Khaled’s to
amplify his discomfort. Legitimate confessions only came out of
distress. He learned this long ago when Boreta first took him under
his wing. You must make your victim feel as helpless as a child
would be without his parents there to protect him. Easy or hard,
pain or shame, physical or mental, the method itself does not
matter as much as the objective: you must make them feel small and
vulnerable. You must make them become a child again. Only the
child tells what goes on in the house.
    “Go on, Khaled.
I’m listening.”
    “I’m upset with
you right now, to be honest. From the moment I woke you up, to the
car ride to this place, to all the affairs we’ve been discussing
all morning. . .you still haven’t asked me anything about
Gloria.”
    Tyler knew
exactly where this was going. “Gloria’s strong. She can take care
of herself, just as she’s always done since long before I met her.
The world has rarely been kind to her, but she always finds a way
to survive. She’s a survivor, Khaled. She’ll outlive the both of
us, I guarantee you.”
    Khaled bit his
lower lip, obviously agitated by Tyler’s nonchalance. “I know that.
It’s just that. . . if I were you and I just got out of prison, the
first thing on my mind would be Gloria. I would have been worried
about her safety after being away for so long.”
    “Yeah, well. .
.she’s not your problem now, is she? She’s my woman—not yours . You’re not the one she shares a bed with when she’s
off the clock.”
    Khaled fidgeted
in his seat. “I’m sorry. Let’s just drop it. I didn’t mean it like
that. I just worry about her sometimes. She’s very special