Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #2: Books 5-8 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (types of ebook readers txt) 📕

sometimes. “No, and no. I would like to stay and enjoy the meal and I would like you to stay and enjoy it with me.” I sipped my martini, and as I put my glass down I said, “Your paper has a reputation for coming down hard on bent cops and abuse of power. I’m the same, and I tend to do things by the book. Otherwise, I am no better than the people I go after.” I gave her my most charming, lopsided grin and added, “After all, you could be a suspect.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Me?”

“Not really, but technically you could be. If I got too close to you, I could not be involved in the case.”

She raised an eyebrow and looked back at the menu. “How close is too close?”

“Anything under six inches.”

She laughed.

I smiled at her. “Staggering home together would certainly be too close.” I gave it a second and then added, “But I’ll take a rain check.”

She made a doubtful noise, but I could tell she was smiling. “We’ll see how you behave for the rest of the evening.”

I ordered clams oreganata and she had homemade mozzarella on grilled oyster mushrooms. For the main course, she ordered saltimbocca alla Romana and I had vitello alla Marsala, and we had a bottle of Barolo, which for my money is the only Italian wine worth drinking. But I’m controversial that way.

When the waiter had left with our orders, she drained her martini, and as she set the glass down she said, “So, you’re a real do it by the book man, huh?”

“Is that a problem?”

“No, I just had you down as a bit of a rule breaker. Your own man.”

“Well, I guess that all depends on what book you’re using, doesn’t it? I do it by the book, but my book says that sometimes you have to break the rules.”

“Really?”

“Yup.”

“But you can’t break the rule about getting close?”

“Nope.”

She was grinning. It was a mischievous grin and it was attractive. “And why not?”

“Because you might break my heart and turn out to be a diabolical, evil genius who murders dangerous reporters that know too much.”

“Oh, sure.”

“You know how dime thrillers always end. It was always the sexy femme fatale who did it.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Is that what I am?”

I smiled. “A sexy femme fatale?” I signaled the waiter for two more drinks. “Sure. I think so.”

She sat back in her chair and sighed, still smiling. “OK, Stone, you’re a charmer. Now tell me why you brought me here.”

“To this restaurant?”

“No, not to this restaurant. Why did you take me out at all?”

“It was part of our deal, remember?”

She watched me, waiting.

“You are a very attractive, intelligent woman.”

“And the real reason?”

I frowned. “Don’t be too quick to judge, Shelly. Everything I said to you was true. I am investigating a murder, and you were close to the victim.”

“So…?”

I spread my hands. “Okay, what can you tell me about Carol Hennessy?”

“Ah…” She nodded several times. The waiter arrived with two more martinis. She took a sip and sighed. “Didn’t take you long, did it?”

I thought about Dehan. “A little longer than it should have.”

“She’s a driven woman, very ambitious, and very firmly rooted in the ideals of the late ’60s and ’70s. She upsets a lot of men.”

I frowned. It was a different angle to the one I’d read online. “A lot of men seem to have upset her, too. And a lot of them wound up dead.”

She gave a laugh that was not quite patronizing, “Listen, I specialize in credible conspiracy theories. I was raised on Kennedy and Watergate. There are two things you need to remember. Back in the ’60s and ’70s this country was a very different place. The Feds, the CIA—even the cops…” She gestured at me with an open hand, like I represented all cops. “They had a free hand back then. They were practically unaccountable to anybody. They quite literally got away with murder, for a long time, and they thought it would go on forever. But it really isn’t like that anymore.”

“It isn’t?”

“No. For a start, they are aware that the press is all over them all the time. Communication is global and instant. Trump sneezes and within thirty seconds the whole world has been alerted, via Twitter, Facebook, a billion blogs…” She made circular motions with her hand, indicating ‘on and on’. “If Hennessy and her husband were involved in all the shady deals and murders that she is accused of, it would have come out by now.”

I sipped my drink and set it down carefully on the table, frowning at it. I was trying to work out what Shelly Pearce was all about. I said, “And isn’t that exactly what happened?”

She shook her head, with a mouthful of martini. “Mm-mm!” She swallowed. “No. What happened was that America was ready for a black president, but not for a female one. Do you know what proportion of the electorate is black or Latino?”

“No.”

“Thirty percent. That’s enough to carry an election. Do you know what proportion is female?”

“Half?”

“Slightly over. But where blacks and Latinos are politically aware, and will vote to protect their interests, the vast majority of women still have this conditioning that says we’ll be better off with a man at the helm. Carol tried to fight that…” She paused, studying my face. “And you’re right, there was a conspiracy. But the conspiracy was against her. It was a systematic character assassination, perpetrated by the right-wing media, to preserve the top office for that small, male elite.”

Vincenzo came with our starters and we ate for a while in silence. After a bit, I sat back and watched her for a moment. After a moment,