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.""Thats it?"Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlThe breed pulled out a stiletto, popped the button and scratched his neck with the dull side of the blade."Finito."I walked out the backdoor into an alley, scared for Lee.Two men in shiny suits were lounging by a streetlight; when they saw me they picked up the tempo of their foot shuffling and studied the ground like dirt was suddenly fascinating.I took off running; gravel scraping behind me said the two were in hot pursuit.The alley ended at a connecting road to the red light block, with another, barely navigable dirt fork angling off in the direction of the beach.I took it at a full sprint, my shoulders brushing chicken wire fencing, penned-up dogs trying to get at me from the opposite sides.Their barks destroyed the rest of the street noise; I had no idea if the two were still on my tail.I saw the ocean-front boulevard looming in front of me, got my bearings, figured the hotel to be a block to the right and slowed to a walk.I was half a block off--in my favor.The dump was about a hundred yards away.Catching my breath, I strolled there, Mr.Square American slumming.The courtyard was empty; I reached for my room key.Then light from the second floor fluttered across the door--now minus my spit hair warning trap.I drew my.38 and kicked the door in.A white man sitting in the chair by the bed already had his hands up and a peace offering on his lips: "Whoa, boy.I'm a friend.I'm not heeled, and if you don't believe me then I'll stand a frisk right now."I pointed my gun at the wall.The man got up and placed his palms on it, hands over head, legs spread.I patted him down,.38 at his spine, finding a billfold, keys and a greasy comb.Digging the muzzle in, I examined the billfold.It was stuffed with American cash; there was a California private investigator's license in a laminated holder.It gave the man's name as Milton Dolphine, his business address as 986Copa De Oro in San Diego.I tossed the billfold on the bed and eased the pressure on my gun; Dolphine squirmed."That money's jackshit compared to what Blanchard was holding.You go partners with me and it's easy street."I kicked his legs out from under him.Dolphine hit the floor and sucked dust off the carpet."You tell me all of it, and you watch what you say about my partner, or it's a B&E roust and the Ensenada jail."Dolphine pushed himself up onto his knees.He gasped, "Bleichert, how the fuck did you figure I knew to come here? It occur to you that maybe I was nearby when you did your gringo cop routine with Vasquez?"I sized the man up.He was past forty, fat and balding, but probably tough--like an ex-athlete whose hardness reverted to smarts when his body went.I said, "Somebody else is tailing me.Who is it?"Dolphine spat cobwebs."The Rurales.Vasquez has got a vested interest in you not finding out about Blanchard.""Do they know I'm staying here?""No.I told Cap I'd start the tail.His other boys must have picked you up.You lose them?"I nodded and flicked Dolphine's necktie with my gun."How come you're so cooperative?"Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.htmlDolphine put a light hand on the muzzle and eased it away from him."I got my own vested interest, and I am damn good at playing both ends against the middle.I also talk a sight better sitting down.You think that's possible?"I grabbed the chair and placed it in front of him.Dolphine got to his feet, brushed off his suit and plopped himself into it.I reholstered my piece."Slow and from the beginning."Dolphine breathed on his nails and buffed them on his shirt.I took the only other chair in the flop and sat down facing the slats so that I'd have something to grab."Talk, goddamnit."Dolphine obliged."About a month ago, this Mexican woman walked into my office in Dago.Chubby, wearing ten tons of makeup, but dressed to the nines [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]