Part 231 (1/2)

In a coy invitation, she put a hand on his lapel. He tolerated it,

knowing he would burn the suit. ”We'll conduct business anywhere you

like. But let's get it done.”

”You always were in a hurry.” She started up, mammoth hips swaying. He

watched her, seeing the way her hand gripped tight to the banister,

hearing her breath puffing. One push, he considered, and she'd go

tumbling down. No one would question it as anything but an accident. He

nearly reached out, nearly touched her. Then he steadied himselL He had

a better way. A surer way.

”Here we are, dear.” Red-faced and wheezing, she dropped on the bed.

”Name your poison.”

The stench almost gagged him. The room was lit by a single lamp, and in

the shadows he could see tangles of dirty clothes and dishes, empty

cartons and cans and bottles. A fetid odor hung in the room, like the

cobwebs in the corners. He could almost see it as he breathed slowly,

between his teeth.

”I'll pa.s.s on the drink.” He was careful not to touch anything. Not

just because of fingerprints now, but from fear of soiling himself ”Suit

yourself. What have you brought me?”

He set the briefcase beside her. He would burn that as well. He spun

the combination then flipped the lid. ”It's part of the money.”

”I told you-”

”It's impossible to raise a million in cash overnight. You'll have to

be patient.” He turned the case toward her. ”But I brought you

something else, to tide you over. A sign of good faith.”

She saw the bag, plump with white powder on the neat stack of bills. Her