Deadline for Lenny Stern by Peter Marabell (beautiful books to read TXT) 📕
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- Author: Peter Marabell
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“So, you’ve come to help take care of Mr. Stern?” she said.
Henri smiled. “That’s my job, keep everybody safe.”
“Um, I have a question,” Eleanor said, “for you, too, Mr. Russo.”
“Sure.”
“How do you know?”
“Know what?” I said.
“The men who want to hurt Mr. Stern,” she said, nodding in his direction. “How do you know who it is?” Her face looked confused, uncertain. “I can’t imagine two men wearing masks will rush the store with guns blazing.”
Perhaps the book lady was sharper than I thought. She’d begun to analyze the situation.
“No, ma’am,” I said. “That’s not likely.”
“Do you … I’m not sure how to ask this, but do you, you know, profile people?”
“You mean,” Henri said, “look for black or brown guys wearing hoodies?”
Cosworth looked at the floor, a bit sheepishly, and nodded. “Kind of like that, yeah.”
Henri shook his head and said, “We don’t rely on stereotypes. If we did that, Stern might get killed, us too. We know what to look for because this is what we do.”
Cosworth nodded slowly, letting that sink in.
“Mr. Stern,” she said, turning his way. “I didn’t mean to be rude. We’re very excited to have you at Humbug’s this afternoon, but this … this, what should I call it? This situation you’re in has me a little nervous.”
Lenny smiled. “Me, too, Ms. Cosworth. I’m nervous, too.” He reached out and took her hand. “But that’s why Michael and Henri are here.”
Eleanor and Lenny then exchanged a few minutes of book-related stories, as if we weren’t there.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Eleanor said, “I have some details to see to before we get started.”
After she was out of earshot, Henri said, “It’s bullshit, Russo. Not that I’m telling you anything you don’t know.”
“Yeah.”
“He’s going to be in the window, isn’t he?”
“Yep,” I said, as Lenny turned around and looked at the setup.
“Won’t she move the podium?”
“Nope.”
“Want me to talk to her?” Henri said.
I shook my head.
“Bad news, Russo.”
“What are you guys worried about?” Lenny said. “I’m the target in the big glass window.”
I was sure Tina was listening, but she seemed detached, her eyes glassy, but that wasn’t unexpected. She had not yet recovered from the emotional trauma of Kate Hubbell’s murder.
“Why don’t we just tell the book lady to move the podium or Lenny walks?” Henri said.
Lenny jumped in. “No, no. She’s depending on us, on me. Small stores like this struggle. We can’t disappoint its customers.”
I took a deep breath.
After a moment, Henri said, “How ‘bout this …” he glanced at the podium, the tables on the floor. “What if we move the podium and the chairs to the middle of the store? We could slide those two tables over, put them in the window.”
I looked around. Lenny, too.
“Think she’d go for it?” Lenny said.
“Let’s ask,” I said.
“No.” It was Lenny. “Let me ask. She might do it for me.”
“Go for it,” I said.
Lenny nodded and went over to the sales counter. A few moments later, he returned with Eleanor. He had a small grin on his face.
“All right, Mr. Russo,” Eleanor said. “We’ll move the podium.”
“Henri and I’ll do the moving, Ms. Cosworth. Just tell us where.”
She did. The podium and chairs sat in the middle of the store. The tables went to the window. Eleanor seemed satisfied enough, and returned to the sales counter.
“Well, Henri?” I said.
“At least Lenny’s away from the window.”
“What about outside?”
“I’ll head across the street in a few minutes,” Henri said. “Have you explained the ground rules to Eleanor yet?”
“Thought I’d wait for Lenny and Tina, do it once. I think we finally got through to her that this is serious.”
I called out to Tina and Eleanor.
They walked over.
“We have to explain a few things,” I said, and looked around.
“Is there somewhere we can talk, Ms. Cosworth?”
“In the office,” she said, pointing to a long plaid curtain covering a doorway behind her.
“I’ll be outside,” Henri said. “Text, Michael.”
We retreated to her office, a tiny space with barely enough room for a desk, a dented filing cabinet, and an ancient desktop computer.
I looked at my watch.
“We have less than twenty minutes,” I said. “Any idea how many people will attend?”
Eleanor shrugged. “Fifteen. A few more if we’re lucky on a sunny summer afternoon.”
“All right,” I said. “I have a few ground rules for Lenny’s presentation. I want the three of you to listen carefully. We don’t want any more people getting hurt. This is all new to you, but Henri and I have dealt with this kind of thing before.”
Lenny and Tina stood quite still, Eleanor was fidgety.
“First, you do as I tell you, starting now. Lenny will be at the podium, of course, but you, Tina and you, Ms. Cosworth, stay away from the front of the store. I don’t want you anywhere near the windows. Am I clear?”
“Um, I have to introduce Mr. Stern,” Eleanor said, “from the podium.”
“Be brief, then head for the back, okay?”
Eleanor nodded.
I explained a few more basics. “All right, you do as I say, no questions, no hesitation. Clear?”
Tina and Eleanor nodded at the same time.
“Lenny? You on board?” I assumed after the Carnegie he would be, but I had to ask.
He nodded. “I don’t want anyone else hurt because of me.”
“This isn’t your fault, Lenny,” I said.
“Feels that way.”
“No, Lenny.” It was Tina. “I’ve been with you from the beginning. You were the one who thought the book might be dangerous. I knew that going in, so did Kate.”
“I never thought anyone would die. Scared, maybe, but killed? You’re all my responsibility. I got you into this, you and Kate …”
“Lenny,” I said. “It’s no one’s fault. Tina and Kate are professionals, just like you. You had the story, the three of you worked on the documents. Kate edited the manuscript. Tina took care of organizing everything else. You were in it together.”
“We’re with you by choice, Lenny,” Tina said.
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Of course I’m scared, Lenny, but you have an important story to tell. You convinced
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