Brain Guy: A gang killer meets his match in a TNT blonde Read Online Free

muscle and now Bill jabbed him with dose after dose of “memory” as if from a hypo. The boss fidgeted. Pink spots appeared on the ivory of his yellow cheekbones. It was a pleasure to contemplate his agony, for that’s what it was, the agony of someone in a hell, in a past irrevocable but still meaningful. It had held Bill’s father, an old friendship still holding some truth for the man Stanger had become. He stared the longest time at Bill, the smooth-shaven face smelling of lilac and talcum, the crisp jaw lines, the full mouth, the blaze of blue eyes balanced finely the straight nose. He was envious, and regret wrinkled his face. This Bill was a ladies’ man, and so young. So young and handsome. He thought of Bill’s father when he too had hummed with animal energy, had been a man. Wonderful to be young, needing no stimulus. He was sick to be reminded of the fertility pills he took, hating Bill for shoving him back into the world before the war. It was gone and no use haunting it. He suspected the young man was seeking for an advantage. It was all right for Bill to try to put one over with his talk of the past, but it would not be all right for him to be a sucker. He glanced at Bill as if he were a landlord asking for a loan he wouldn’t get in a million years. The boss felt better. “Since I didn’t give you notice and because of our connection, well, this envelope is a month’s salary.”
    “Thanks. I’ll be needing it. My young brother’s in town. We’ll need it to live on.”
    “Joe in town? Why?”
    “It hasn’t been so good for him since my mother died. You know how it is. Living in a small town like Easton. It was no go. He’s a proud kid and couldn’t hit it off with our cousins. Without parents, well …” He was heaving his darts openly, shameless, stabbing sympathy into the boss. He could imagine the boss thinking: The two poor kids, no father no mother, orphans orphans
orphans
in the cruel world. Bill quivered, gloating at the reactions of his target. Say “orphan,” and the boss’d react one way. Say “whore,” he’d react another.
    “But couldn’t you two go home where you have relatives? If I weren’t tied up I’d like to do something. But I’m in the red and this is a rotten town to be in without a job or family.”
    “Impossible. We’d rather starve or sleep in the park than go home.” The boss sighed, his eyes sad and tragic. He became limp like a woman who has fought her attacker and at last surrenders. It was a rape. “I’m sorry, Bill. If I could help — ”
    “You can help. You’ve many properties full of empties.”
    “Well?”
    “My brother and I could stay in one until we got work. It’s a nerve, but I’m remembering your friendship for my father and my family. Why, Joe’s always regarded you as an uncle.” He felt cheap, ashamed at his peddler’s psychology.
    “Taxes and interest are sky-high.”
    “We don’t want to move into one of your good houses where you’ve a chance of renting.”
    “Yes?”
    “How about those properties of yours off the El, near Greenwich Street? The houses on Leroy that are always empty? I’ve heard you say a thousand times they’re worthless.”
    “You’d move into one of those?”
    “Better than sleeping in the park.”
    “Hell, if you’re willing to live down there you can stay as long as you want. You’re kidding?”
    “No. They’re better than the park or a flop-house.”
    The boss was plaintively eager to shy away from talk of money. “For the sake of our special connection — Why, Bill, only too happy.” He seemed cheerier, hearing himself recite to friends
what he did
for the sons of his old crony. “The best of the lot’s one on Leroy, between Greenwich and Hudson. A slum neighborhood, but it’s a clean house. Stay there as long as you want. It’s a roof at the least. Maybe something’ll turn up.”
    “Thank you, Mr. Stanger. Thanks awfully. It’s swell. My father couldn’t’ve been more