Thursday's Child Read Online Free PDF Page A

and when just to look. Now he just looked.
    Berg stared at him as if trying hard to read some expression through the sunglasses. They were too dark for that, which was exactly the point. He tried to keep up his hardcase front, but his mouth opened and closed a couple of times with nothing being said. Then the air just seemed to whoosh out of him. “I don’t have enough cash on hand,” he said in a choked whisper. “And my family is here.”
    Christ, in another minute the dope would be bawling all over the table. Robert really wasn’t in the mood for that. He finished his Coke quickly and set the paper cup down. “Twenty-four hours, Berg,” he said wearily. “You won’t get another warning. Mr. LoBianca is being real generous to let you leave. Most guys, they’d have your balls in the chopper right now.” Of course, they both knew that generosity had nothing at all to do with it; LoBianca was just looking out for number one. It made sense to avoid murder whenever possible. Robert didn’t think it was going to be avoided here, though. Berg was just too dumb. With a sudden move, Robert snatched the pencil away and, quickly, broke it in two. He dropped the pieces onto the table and started to get up.
    Berg reached out and grabbed him by one wrist. “Jesus Christ, man, I got kids. Can’t you be a little understanding?”
    Robert just looked down at him until Berg released the grip. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said very softly. “I’ll kill you and your fucking kids, you ever lay a finger on me again. You got that?”
    â€œYes,” Berg said helplessly. “I get it.” He slumped back in the booth, staring at the greasy used napkin that was still in his lap.
    Robert left the restaurant. He walked around the parking lot until he found Berg’s sea-foam-green Pontiac. After checking to be sure that nobody was being nosy, he took a Swiss Army knife from his pocket. Quickly, methodically, he slashed each tire on the car. Just for good measure, he also broke off the rearview mirror and left it propped on the hood.
    Then he headed for his own car. He knew that the vandalism was a sort of petty thing to do, but Berg had really aggravated him. For some people, just killing wasn’t enough.
    2
    Maureen Travers wanted to be an actress.
    That was no novelty, of course; not in a town where Robert knew that he could stand on any street corner, spit, and be ensured of hitting not only one or more aspiring thespians, but also a minimum of eight passersby with script ideas to pitch.
    It was precisely because of all that competition that Maureen was, temporarily, supporting herself by working as a waitress in a place on Sunset Boulevard. Because it was a first-class establishment and more especially because Maureen was a long-legged blonde who knew how to treat the customers right, she made very good tips.
    She was still young enough to be a little bit impressed that her boyfriend (a word that she was also still young enough to use, although it was one that Robert, at thirty-eight, found slightly ridiculous when applied to him) was a sort of mysterious figure. She had no idea what it was he actually did , of course, although she had the feeling that it was something not quite, well, legal. Not that he was a real criminal , she figured. To her, Robert was just something of a renegade, which seemed to excite her. Robert didn’t mind.
    What they had going, in Robert’s opinion, was a good summertime relationship. Maureen looked terrific in a bathing suit, got a joke when one was told, and was hot in bed, especially when it came to giving a blow-job. What more could he ask?
    But there were times when they were out together, like that very night, for example, when she talked all the way through dinner about some damned audition or other, when he had to wonder if it was really worth all the trouble. He was wondering just that as he signaled