Broadway Bounty

Chapter Twenty-five

“Did you hear?” Bookman asked.

“I heard,” Largo said. “It looks like one of Bolan’s friends switched sides.”

“Or went into business for himself.”

“I guess he didn’t inspire the same confidence you do.”

“Don’t pull my chain, Largo,” Bookman said, putting down his knife and fork, “you’ll ruin my meal.”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

“We both know that Bolan underpaid his people.”

“Or downright cheated them.”

“That’s something you can’t accuse me of,” Bookman said, picking up his utensils again.

“You’re right about that.”

“Would you like a bite?” Bookman asked, indicating his breakfast.

“You’ll excuse me for saying so, Bookman,” Largo said. “I can work for you, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat with you.”

Bookman either didn’t hear or ignored the remark.

“Largo?”

“Yeah?”

“Where were you while Decker was killing Razor?”

“I was outside the building.”

“Doing what?”

“Watching.”

“Why weren’t you helping?”

“I didn’t expect Decker to need my help,” Largo said. “After all, it was only Razor he was dealing with.”

“Did you see Coles in the area?”

“I didn’t see him,” Largo said, “but he was there.”

“How do you know?”

Largo made a face and said, “I could smell him.”

“I guess it’s safe to assume that Coles killed Bolan.”

“He never did have any…loyalty.”

“Largo,” Bookman said, “you’re starting to worry me. Where is Decker now?”

“He’s out of the hospital and in his hotel.”

“Stay with him.”

“He might have some extra help.”

“Like who?”

“Police.”

“Tally?”

“Yes.”

“Tally will probably put somebody on him, whether he wants their help or not.”

“I agree.”

“Mmm, thank you so much.”

Largo waited while Bookman chewed.

“All right, go and see him. Tell him I’m sorry I didn’t get him the word on Bolan in time.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that.”

“And don’t clash with the police. If they are there, they won’t bother you. You are, after all, not known to them—thanks to me.”

“I appreciate that, Bookman.”

“Tell him about Coles.”

“I will.”

“Warn him that Armand is good.”

“You want me to exaggerate, do you?”

“Just tell him, Largo.”

“I will.”

As Largo left, Bookman poured himself another cup of coffee. He hoped Decker wouldn’t hold it against him that he hadn’t gotten him the names in time. After all, things were happening very quickly.

Largo left and caught a cab to Decker’s hotel. On the way he thought about Armand Coles’s going into business for himself. He hadn’t thought Coles was that intelligent.

Largo had worked for Bookman for three years now. Both Bookman and Largo knew that Largo was the best killer in New York, but Bookman was right. Thanks to him, nobody else knew, not the police, and not Armand Coles.

Maybe it was time, Largo thought, to make a move of his own.