The Dame Did It Read Online Free PDF Page A

and large
quantities of black market liquor, and anyone who lived within the
region knew that the prices on those cars were too high and that
Sam was as crooked as a Kentucky back country road. What most of
them didn’t know is how he managed to stay in business when the
same cars stayed on the lot month after month.
    Sam, however, recognized the sort of
customer that he shouldn’t cheat, so when Killingworth and
Blackheart made him a generous offer, he sold them one of the few
cars on his lot which was actually in good running condition.
    He handed Killingsworth the key to the
Corvette, but called after them as they both climbed into the low
seats. “What about your truck?”
    Killingsworth shrugged. “We’re just
borrowing it, Sam. If someone were to have certain contacts and
were it to somehow disappear, no one would be the wiser.”
    Sam rubbed his bony hands together. He knew
of just the chop shop that would be happy to disassemble the Ford
into untraceable parts and pay him a hefty fee for the opportunity.
“Say no more, Mr . and Mrs. Johansen. I
assure you, I will be most discreet.” He turned back to his office
to count his money, again, and make a couple of phone calls—some
discreet and others not so discreet.
    The Corvette spun back onto the 9001,
heading East toward Lexington. Normally, it was a three hour drive
to Lexington but, with careful monitoring of the radar detector,
they made it in two. They had spent a fair amount of time
exchanging their wheels and it was near midnight when they reached
Finn Macintyre’s place in the suburbs. Finn was a small time
hustler who pulled cons on old ladies, emptying their savings and
robbing them of their social security checks, but his ill-gotten
gains slipped like water through his fingers—spent on booze, drugs,
and fast women. His lawn was overgrown, and empty bottles of
bourbon adorned the rail of his front porch. A shiny red Porsche
sat in the driveway as Blackheart and Killingsworth approached the
door.
    “That’s new,” said Blackheart. “Or at least
he picked it up since I’ve been in the pen.”
    “I’ve got a bad feeling that your girl and
your best friend may have already spent Frankie G’s drug money.
They’ve had plenty of time.”
    “I told you,” growled Blackie. “He ain’t my
best friend anymore.” He lifted his fist to knock on the door, but
Killingsworth caught it.
    “Allow me,” she said. She produced a
lockpick gun from her handbag and in a few seconds the locked front
door was locked no longer and they eased into the front room, which
was decorated in modern style with angular coffee tables, end
tables, and boxy leather couches. A small mirror rested upon the
table, a dusting of white powder, a furled hundred dollar bill, and
a razor blade lying on top. There was, however, no sign of any
occupants.
    “Looks like they’ve been celebrating,” said
Killingsworth.
    The headlights of a car swept the house,
momentarily brightening the dim interior, and Killingsworth stepped
to the blinds, pulling two slats apart and peering through them.
“We’ve got a car parked on the other side of the street.”
    Blackheart cursed. “Is it the police? I
should have known better than to pay a visit to my ex-girlfriend.
They’ve probably been staking out her place since I escaped the
transport truck.”
    “Why were you being transported?” asked
Killingsworth.
    Blackheart shrugged. “Something about me
being too dangerous to mix with the general population and that I
should be transported to Eddyville with the other hard core
criminals. I don’t get it, though, I’m strictly small time compared
to the guys they’ve got in the Kentucky Pen. I’m not a rapist and I
never killed anyone… until today, but I don’t see as I had much
choice.”
    “It takes a little getting used to.”
Killingsworth still peered through the blinds, hoping to find a
clue which would tell her the identity of the newly-arrived
vehicle’s occupants.
    “Is