Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set) by Blake Banner (best thriller books to read .txt) 📕

James Kirkpatrick had moved to Northwest Yonkers. He’d obviously had some kind of super pension plan I had never heard of. We took the I-95 and were there in just under a half hour. It was leafy and green in a way that suggested nothing bad ever happened there. You could drink martinis dry every evening without ever getting drunk, and children would always run laughing to school. Maybe that was true in Yonkers. I would never know. I couldn’t afford paradise.

He had a gray-blue clapboard house with Dutch gables that looked like something out of one of the darker episodes of The X-Files. I parked out front, and the slam of the car doors echoed across the empty, green lawns. A long path crossed his front garden, and we climbed the steps to the porch and rang the bell.

We waited long enough for Dehan to ring the bell a second time. Then we heard steps, and the door opened. He glanced at us and looked at me twice. He narrowed his eyes. “Stone, right? You’re from the 43rd. What’s up?”

“Hello, Kirk. Can we come in? We need to ask you a few questions.”

He hesitated, then kind of rushed his words. “Yeah! No! Sure! Of course, come on in…”

He stood back to allow us to pass. We stepped into a short passage with a coat stand. The passage opened out into a broad living area with wooden floors. Beyond it I could see an open-plan dining room-kitchen area. A flight of stairs on the left led up to the bedrooms and the bathrooms. I glanced back at the coat stand with one coat on it and said, “You live here alone, Kirk?”

“My wife’s at her mother’s…”

He stood in the hallway, looking at us and chewing his lip. I smiled. “It’s been a long time. You going to ask us to sit down?”

He looked at his watch. “It’s kinda late. What’s this about?”

I didn’t answer. We both watched him, waiting. Finally he said, “Yeah, sure. Where are my manners? Sit down, make yourselves comfortable. You want some coffee? A beer?”

I shook my head. “No, Kirk. Sit down. We have some questions for you.”

“Sure, whatever.”

He sat. Behind him was a bow window with net curtains, and through it I could see the street and my car. It was very still and very quiet. “Where is Mick?”

“Mick?”

I laughed. “You don’t remember Mick? He was your partner for fifteen years.”

“No! Yeah! Of course I remember Mick! We, we, we were partners! Like you said. I was just surprised at you asking me…”

“So where is he?” Dehan said.

He pulled a face. “We lost touch. He went to Miami.”

“No, he didn’t.”

He made like a goldfish and mouthed silently for a few seconds, then blurted, “I thought he did…”

Dehan said, “No, you didn’t.”

“Look, c’mon, guys! What can I tell you? I thought he went to Miami.”

I smiled sweetly and spoke reassuringly. “Okay, don’t get your panties in a tangle, Kirk. We need to talk to him, that’s all. It’s nothing serious, just a few loose ends we need to tie up.” He sighed. I smiled at Dehan. “We were just talking to an old pal of yours, weren’t we, Carmen? He said to send his regards. He’d love to catch up sometime, real soon.” Kirk now looked vaguely sick. “What was his name again?”

Dehan said, “Morry. You remember Morry, don’t you, Kirk? He said you and him and Mick were all real close back in the day. But you stopped answering his calls and hurt his feelings.” She looked at me, and her smile was kind of chilling. “What do you say, John. Should we call him and arrange a get-together?”

“No! No, listen! Stop!”

I said, “Your memory beginning to work?”

“No! What I’m telling you, John! I don’t know where he is. I told Vincenzo’s people already. I don’t know nothing. Mick bailed on me too. Fucking asshole owes me money. I’ll tell you what I know, but what I know is nothing.”

I sighed. “Okay, let’s have that beer. Then tell me the nothing that you know.”

He went to the kitchen and came back with three cold beers. He sat and took a swig.

“You gotta understand, until Nelson came along, Mick had the situation in the Bronx under control. Everything was working smoothly. Things had changed since we took down the Albanians, and there was some jockeying for power, but the families in New York had given Vincenzo the go-ahead to move in. It was an old, well-established family. They knew how to do things and keep the peace. You know, firm but fair. The important thing, as Mick saw it, was to keep the Chinese out, because those motherfuckers are crazy, and keep some control over the Mexicans, because those motherfuckers are just as fucking crazy as the fucking Chinese! You know what I’m saying? So Mick was all for having the New Jersey Mob move in. It made sense.” He paused and stared at Dehan. “You Mexican?”

“Half,” she said tonelessly.

He grinned. “Then I’m half-sorry. No, seriously, I was talking about the gangs, the Angeles de Satanas, not all Mexicans.”

She said, “Shut up, Kirk. Just get on with your goddamn story.”

“Okay. So anyhow, suddenly Nelson comes out of nowhere with his chulos and they start muscling in on Vincenzo’s territory. Next thing he’s running hookers and dope. And because he’s a local kid, he has the support of the barrios. So Pro comes over from Jersey and has a talk to him, warns him. ’Cause you know, Vincenzo and Pro, they are statesmen. They got experience and they are wise. So they don’t just blow him away and start a war. They’re fair. The guy has put in work—he’s built up his business, so all he’s got to do is pay