Two for the Money Read Online Free PDF Page B

than fingerprints.”
    “Tell me about it. I just got through healing up from a slug in the side. One of Charlie’s boys spotted me in Cicero.”
    “Then what the hell are you doing still in the area?”
    “Werner’s helping me set up a meeting with Charlie. We’re going to try to talk it out.”
    “Come on, Nolan, you don’t really think . . .”
    “I don’t know, Irish. I’m getting old. So is Charlie. Because of him I can’t get to any of the cash I’ve piled up.”
    “Jesus, what happened? You didn’t get your cover blown, did you?”
    “Right the first time. Charlie’s onto my cover tag, so I got to get this thing settled before he starts giving it out to people like free samples.”
    “Why’d you come to see me?”
    “Well, the ground rules set for this meeting say no guns, but I’m not about to go into this thing bareass naked. Werner didn’t seem eager to tell me, but I finally gathered from him that you still got firearms for a sideline. Is that right?”
    The shaggy red eyebrows knitted together and Irish nodded.
    “I figure I can trust Charlie only with a gun in my hand. Can you fix me up?”
    Irish got up from the sofa. “Come with me.”
    Nolan followed him out of the room and down to the floor below. Irish unlocked the door, and Nolan saw that behind it was a second door, a steel one with a combination lock. The little man dialed it till it clicked free, then eased the door open and they went in.
    The room was the size of a small gymnasium, covering the combined space of the first floor’s workshop and waiting room. The walls were padded with thick bulging tan canvas, as were floor and ceiling. Across the room a third of the way down was a wooden platform with a waist-high tablestand running along in front of it. Two metal cabinets were against the left wall, each as wide as a man with outstretched arms, and so tall they almost touched the ceiling. Covering the far end wall was a sheet of metal, which descended from the ceiling and slanted down into a catchbin; halfway down, a row of ten standard pistol range targets were lined across the metal sheet.
    The two men walked over to the platform.
    Irish said, “You still hot for .38s?”
    “Smith and Wesson, if you got ’em. Four-inch barrels. Never could stand snub noses.”
    “Well, you can’t always be picky. How many you need?”
    “Several, at least.”
    “You want the kind of piece I think you want, no serial number and still in top shape, you take what’s available. I got three Smith and Wesson .38s in stock, with four-inchers, and of the three, two are like new. The other one’s been around, and it’s got a pull to the left. I got a Colt Police Special that’s a hell of a lot more reliable.”
    “Let’s see them.”
    Irish walked over to the big steel cabinets, twirled the combination lock on one of them, and swung open thedouble doors. There were compartments and drawers inside, and after he’d done some fishing around, Irish came up with four guns and a box of cartridges. He scooped them all up in his arms, walked over to Nolan, and laid them on the tablestand in front of him.
    “Don’t sweat the noise. Soundproof as shit.”
    Nolan nodded, loading three bullets into one of the Smith and Wessons.
    He tried all four guns. The Smith and Wessons were all good, but one of them did pull a hair to the left, and it was also slightly rusted. The Colt was fine.
    “You’re right, Irish. I’ll take the two S and Ws and the Colt.”
    “You need three?”
    “Got to be safe. The only gun I got is on me. I had a couple others that got lifted by Charlie’s men in Cicero, along with a lot of other stuff.”
    “Got a job on the line?”
    “I don’t think so, Irish. I called Planner while I was healing up, and the only thing he had for me was a bad bet at best. Since Charlie shot my last job out from under me, nobody in the trade wants near me. Nobody worth a damn, anyway.”
    “Jesus. I hope you get this thing with Charlie