Kill Me Twice (A Zeke Edison Novel Book 1) (12 page)
Read Kill Me Twice (A Zeke Edison Novel Book 1) Online
Authors: Joseph Flynn
Tags: #Mysteries & Thrillers
As for Zeke, he had his own idea.
“Hey, Dawson. You hear who’s out?”
The dangling man only continued to moan.
“It’s okay,” Zeke said, “no more beatings. You hear who’s out?”
In an unsteady voice, Dawson said, “Who?”
“Stevie Z.”
Dawson went so rigid, Zeke and George almost dropped him.
Zeke explained to the others. “Stevie Z. was a member of Dawson’s rip-off crew. All the other crooked cops died in prison, shanked by inmates. But Stevie Z. was too tough and too mean to get taken out. He served his full term and was released. I haven’t been able to locate him yet, but I have to think he’s looking for old Jonas here. Probably has his own plans for him. Even after this jerk is locked up, my money says Stevie finds a way to get to him.”
Paulette saw the implication. Let Dawson and his own thug go after each other for eternity.
Dawson saw a more immediate threat. “Drop me, goddamnit. Kill me now.”
That change of heart could mean only one thing.
Zeke and George hauled Dawson up onto the bridge.
The moment they did, everyone heard a sustained, blood-curdling scream.
Looking in the direction of the horrifying wail, they saw a body falling from the sky. Arms and legs flailed against gravity. Whoever it was hit the water on the far side of the bridge.
The cops arrived in time to see the splash.
Sergeant of Detectives Arvid Washington left his jurisdiction and traveled to the mansion on Sheridan road to meet with Zeke and George. He looked at all the rehabbing going on and told them, “You guys ought to put this place on TV. One of those stations where they’re always fixing up old places, making them look like houses most of us can only dream of.”
They led Washington into the relative quiet of the kitchen.
Zeke said, “You can talk about that with George. He’s more into marketing than I am. I’d like to know who took that big fall last night.”
George handed Washington a bottle of Carlsberg Elephant because it was an informal visit.
The cop smiled as he looked at the bottle. “This is a new one on me.”
“Be careful,” George told him. “It packs a kick.”
Washington laughed and took a swig. “Just like you boys, huh? I saw the surveillance video of how you hit Mr. Jonas Dawson, Esquire.” He winced and took another drink.
“The guy who took his last dive?” Zeke repeated.
“That would be a gentleman by the name of Donald Magro, number two dude in the Chicago mob. Used to be anyway. The organized crime coppers tell me he was the go-between for the number one man and Jonas Dawson.”
George opened bottles of Elephant for Zeke and himself.
He said, “Convenient having that guy croak just when Dawson is looking at a world of trouble and no doubt would give up his mother for leniency.”
Washington laughed and took another hit of his beer, clearly appreciating it. “Funny how those things always seem to work out in this town. Anyway, we got some more video of Magro entering the Marina City complex. His face is right there on camera. The two dudes he was with, no such luck. The brims of their hats hide their faces. Probably just a coincidence, huh?”
Zeke and George laughed.
“What’s happening with Jonas Dawson?” Zeke asked.
“Well, first thing, he asked for a lawyer. So he’s not talking. But we have video of him trying to shoot you boys. So the state’s attorney has Dawson for two attempted murder charges right there. The ledgers Ms. Mallory turned over to us were enough to open a murder investigation in the death of Ms. Pamela Keller. The IRS is going to be looking into Dawson’s finances back to the day he started delivering newspapers. All in all, the man’s future does not look promising.”
“He ever thinks things are turning his way for any reason, just whisper the name Stevie Z. to him,” George said.
“Let me ask you something,” Zeke told Washington. “If Magro hadn’t gotten tossed into the river and say Stevie Z. had gotten hit by a truck, is there any chance Dawson might have traded what he knows for a free-pass? No jail time?”
Washington finished his bottle. “If Jonas Dawson flipped on Donald Magro and that led to the big boss of the Chicago mob going down? He’d have walked. Bet on it.”
Zeke lay in bed. The sun was rising out of Lake Michigan and lighting his bedroom. He watched Reggie step out of the bathroom in her panties and bra. She slipped into a khaki shirt with epaulettes and a pair of matching shorts. She sat on an easy chair to lace up a pair of hiking boots, and looked back at Zeke.
“You going to miss me?” she asked.
“Already do.”
“But you won’t ask me to stay.”
“Wouldn’t do any good.”
“You’ve behaved very well while I was here.”
“You take a lot of the pressure off.”
“Well, I’ll be back. In the meantime, you can keep sweeping Mr. Sugiyama’s floor. Find yourself another client to keep busy.”
“Sure,” Zeke said.
“Even though you haven’t asked me, heartless bastard that you are, I’ll miss you, too.” She came over and sat on the edge of the bed, took Zeke’s hand. “You believe me, right?”
“I do.”
“You’re holding something back,” Reggie told him.
“Just thinking about you and Paulette Mallory telling me about your other lives. Thinking about the idea that my temper might be due to a past life of my own.”
Reggie kissed him and stood up.
“I told you I was a samurai’s wife?”
“Yeah?”
“So who do you think that samurai is right now?”
Reggie gave Zeke a wink and was gone.
Joseph Flynn has been published both traditionally — Signet Books, Bantam Books and Variance Publishing — and through his own imprint, Stray Dog Press, Inc. Both major media reviews and reader reviews have praised his work. Booklist said, “Flynn is an excellent storyteller.” The
Chicago Tribune
said, “Flynn [is] a master of high-octane plotting.” The most repeated reader comment is: Write faster, we want more.
Contact Joe at
Hey Joe
on his website:
www.josephflynn.com
. You can also read excerpts of all of Joe’s books on his website.
All of Joseph Flynn’s novels may be purchased online at
amazon.com
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