Cut Me In E-Book

Ed McBain

• Herausgeber: Hard Case Crime
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2016

Beschreibung

When a man's partner is killed he's supposed to do something about it. Maybe no one liked Del Gilbert, not the men he did business with, not the women who discovered his other lovers, not even his partner in the Gilbert and Blake literary agency - me. But when I found him shot to death on the floor of his office, I had no choice. I had to track down the person responsible. And not just to lay Del to rest, either. The office safe was open, and a contract worth millions was missing...

Leseprobe

Contents

Cover

Acclaim for the Work of Ed McBain!

Also by Ed McBain

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

Want More McBain?

Also Available from Titan Books

Acclaim for the Work of ED McBAIN!

“McBain is so good he ought to be arrested.”

—Publishers Weekly

“The best crime writer in the business.”

—Houston Post

“The author delivers the goods: wired action scenes, dialogue that breathes, characters with hearts and characters that eat those hearts, and glints of unforgiving humor…Ed McBain owns this turf.”

—New York Times Book Review

“You’ll be engrossed by McBain’s fast, lean prose.”

—Chicago Tribune

“McBain has a great approach, great attitude, terrific style, strong plots, excellent dialogue, sense of place, and sense of reality.”

—Elmore Leonard

“McBain is a top pro, at the top of his game.”

—Los Angeles Daily News

“A virtuoso.”

—London Guardian

“McBain…can stop you dead in your tracks with a line of dialogue.”

—Cleveland Plain Dealer

“I never read Ed McBain without the awful thought that I still have a lot to learn. And when you think you’re catching up, he gets better.”

—Tony Hillerman

“Full of noir touches and snappy dialogue.”

—New York Newsday

“Ed McBain is a national treasure.”

—Mystery News

“Raw and realistic…The bad guys are very bad, and the good guys are better.”

—Detroit Free Press

“A story so sharp you could shave with it.”

—Orlando Sentinel

“McBain is the unquestioned king…Light-years ahead of anyone else in the field.”

—San Diego Union-Tribune

“As good as it gets…compulsively readable.”

—Seattle Times-Post Intelligencer

“Vintage stuff. The dialogue is sharp, the plotting accomplished, and the prose bears the McBain stamp—uncluttered, unpretentious, ironic.”

—Philadelphia Inquirer

“If you’re looking for a sure thing, pick this one up.”

—Syracuse Herald-American

“A major contemporary writer…His prose [approaches] a kind of colloquial poetry.”

—William DeAndrea, Encyclopedia Mysteriosa

“The McBain stamp: sharp dialogue and crisp plotting.”

—Miami Herald

“A master storyteller.”

—Washington Times

“McBain keeps you reading and keeps you guessing… The book is a winner.”

—London Sunday Telegraph

“What is it?” she asked. She was holding her glass tightly, and her knuckles were white, the skin pulled taut against the bone.

“Del’s dead,” I said quickly.

It was almost as if I’d hit her in the stomach. She closed her eyes tightly.

Then, as if she’d finally gripped her insides together, she looked up and asked, “How?”

“Three bullets in his head. I found him this morning when I…”

“Who?”

“I don’t know. The police are on it now.”

I expected her to cry, or scream, or something. She just stood there, though, and said, “It takes a while to get used to it.”

“Yeah.”

“Especially when…” She stopped speaking, turned rapidly and filled her glass again.

“You’d better go easy,” I said.

She tossed off the brandy in one gulp, then turned to fill her glass once more.

“Gail…”

“Shut up, Josh. Please shut up. Just let me do what I want to do, and shut up.”

She took another fast swallow, and then began nursing the drink, sipping at it slowly, rolling the glass between her hands. There was sweat on her brow, and the duster clung to the lines of her body.

She didn’t look at me. She stared at an invisible spot in the rug, rolling the glass, clinking the ice.

“I’m glad,” she said at length.

“What?”

“I’m glad. I’m glad someone killed the bastard…”

OTHER HARD CASE CRIME BOOKS BY ED McBAIN:

THE GUTTER AND THE GRAVE

SO NUDE, SO DEAD

SOME OTHER HARD CASE CRIME BOOKS YOU WILL ENJOY:

GETTING OFF by Lawrence Block

QUARRY’S EX by Max Allan Collins

THE CONSUMMATA by Mickey Spillane and Max Allan Collins

CHOKE HOLD by Christa Faust

THE COMEDY IS FINISHED by Donald E. Westlake

BLOOD ON THE MINK by Robert Silverberg

FALSE NEGATIVE by Joseph Koenig

THE TWENTY-YEAR DEATH by Ariel S. Winter

THE COCKTAIL WAITRESS by James M. Cain

SEDUCTION OF THE INNOCENT by Max Allan Collins

WEB OF THE CITY by Harlan Ellison

JOYLAND by Stephen King

THE SECRET LIVES OF MARRIED WOMEN by Elissa Wald

ODDS ON by Michael Crichton writing as John Lange

THE WRONG QUARRY by Max Allan Collins

BORDERLINE by Lawrence Block

BRAINQUAKE by Samuel Fuller

EASY DEATH by Daniel Boyd

QUARRY’S CHOICE by Max Allan Collins

THIEVES FALL OUT by Gore Vidal

A HARD CASE CRIME BOOK(HCC-122)First Hard Case Crime edition: January 2016

Published by

Titan BooksA division of Titan Publishing Group Ltd144 Southwark StreetLondon SE10UP

in collaboration with Winterfall LLC

Copyright © 1953, 1954, by Hui Corp. Copyright renewed.All rights reserved. Novel originally published as by HuntCollins and reprinted in 1955 as The Proposition.

Cover painting copyright © 2016 by Robert McGinnis

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Print edition ISBN 978-0-78329-445-9E-book ISBN 978-1-78329-362-9

Design direction by Max Phillipswww.maxphillips.net

The name “Hard Case Crime” and the Hard Case Crime logo are trademarks of Winterfall LLC. Hard Case Crime books are selected and edited by Charles Ardai.

Visit us on the web at www.HardCaseCrime.com

The new ones, the old ones, they’re all now dedicated tothe love of my life—my wife, Dragica.

1.

The girl was sitting at the kitchen table in a bra and half-slip, casually puffing on a cigarette. I propped myself up in bed, looking out past the living room and through the half-open kitchen door. A cup of coffee rested before her on the table, the steam rising from it lazily. Her legs were crossed, and she wore high heels with ankle straps. Nylon stockings were stretched taut against the curve of her leg, and I wondered why any girl in her right mind would wear stockings in this kind of weather. I also wondered who she was.

I didn’t really give a damn, you understand, because the buzz saw inside my skull and the decaying caterpillar in my mouth told me there’d be plenty I wouldn’t remember about last night. But it seemed to me that a gentleman upon rising should at least know who was sitting at his kitchen table enjoying a cup of coffee and a cigarette. I swung my legs over the side of the bed, and the buzz saw went to work on another cord of wood. I tried to spit out the caterpillar, and gave that up when I discovered it was only my tongue. The window was wide open, but there was no breeze. It was going to be another scorcher just like yesterday. I almost wished the damned Stewart deal hadn’t come up to cancel my vacation. But then I thought of the money involved in the deal and I forgot all about vacations and heat. I found a rumpled potato sack thrown over one of the chairs, discovered it had legs and cuffs, and put it on.

I was walking out into the living room, tightening the belt around my waist, when the girl spoke.

“That you, Josh?”

“Why, yes,” I answered. “That you?”

“I’ll pour you some coffee,” she said.

I nodded, stopping at an end table to spear a cigarette from a container. I was in my bare feet, but the rug was thick, and I didn’t mind. I got the cigarette going, and then walked into the kitchen as the girl set a steaming cup of coffee down on the table. She was tall, with blonde hair cut close to the oval of her face. Her eyes were a pale blue, with skillfully darkened lashes and lids. She wore a pale orange lipstick that accentuated her blondness and added just a touch of color to her full lips. My eyes studied her face, and the first impression I had was that she modeled. She smiled and lifted one eyebrow, glancing at the coffee cup.