Deal with the Dead Read Online Free

were familiar with heavy equipment, being the sons of a New Jersey scrap-metal dealer, a man who’d made a comfortable living buying and selling surplus materials of dubious origin. Halliday turned his gaze back to Babescu, who might have seen some inquiry in his eyes.
    “We have made history here tonight,” Babescu said. “I have afforded these inventors opportunities they would never have found elsewhere.”
    “Babescu, the cultured thief,” Halliday said. “You’ve watched
The Mal
tese Falcon
too many times, I think.”
    Babescu gave Halliday a glance, uncertain of his tone. An engine kicked to life in the distance and Halliday saw that Frank Wheatley had started the engine of the machine that maneuvered the Fire Shower of the Apocalypse.
    “Those two had best be careful,” Babescu observed. “It’s a delicate apparatus. The owner is fastidious.”
    Halliday watched as the machine swiveled toward the platform, Basil grinning out at them from behind the bars of the swaying cage. “You couldn’t have picked a more appropriate audience,” Halliday said. “These men appreciate what heavy equipment can do.”
    Babescu glanced doubtfully at the growling machine, then turned back to Halliday. “You didn’t come here just for the spectacle, Michael.”
    “True,” Halliday said, watching the machine inch its way toward them.
    “And this physical transformation,” Babescu added. “Just what scheme have you cooked up now?”
    “No more schemes, Babescu,” Halliday said. “I’m coming back to life, that’s all.”
    Babescu seemed to read something into his tone. He stared levelly back, ignoring the advancing machine. “You understand that I control everything in this part of Turkey, don’t you?”
    Halliday nodded. “Of course. Money talks, Babescu.”
    Babescu seemed mollified. He settled back in his chair. “Then why not get to the point,” he said.
    There was a grinding noise from the machine, and Babescu glanced away. “If they damage that device, they’ll be required to pay.”
    Halliday stood and walked to the end of the platform, watching as Frank nudged at the controls of the machine, sending the cage into a wobbling arc. “Asswipe!” called Basil to his brother.
    “Asswipe in a gilded cage,” Frank called back. Their insults echoed off the nearby hillside.
    “There are men who find themselves drawn to return to prison,” Babescu said after a moment. “They find themselves uncomfortable, walking around free.”
    “I’m not one of them,” Halliday said.
    “And what is it you want from me?” Babescu put his brandy glass down on a nearby copper table and laced his fingers over his gut.
    “Just what’s due me, Babescu.” Halliday gave him a meaningful look. “I want my money, now.”
    Babescu drew a breath that sounded something like a sigh. “There is no money, Michael. I sent word to you—”
    Halliday dismissed the words with a wave of his hand. “Of course you did. Had the tables been turned, I might have done the same.”
    Babescu shook his head. “I assure you—”
    “We’ll forget about the trading accounts that you had access to—”
    “What wasn’t seized by the U.S. government was worthless,” Babescu protested.
    “I’ll settle for the proceeds of my father’s trust. If you passed along a quarter million a year to me, it probably paid twice as much. We’ll figure the equity at ten million even, and let the interest go.”
    “The trust was seized as well.” Babescu’s eyes were glittering, perhaps from anger, perhaps from fear.
    Halliday nodded as if he expected all this. He leaned forward, his hands braced on his knees. “Ten million dollars, Babescu. I want it now.”
    Babescu shook his head. “You’re being unreasonable.” The fat man glanced down the stairway behind him, perhaps looking for one of the mustachioed Turks Halliday had dealt with earlier: half a dozen dark-skinned men, all of them with stares that could shatter glass.
    “You’ve