Saboteur: A Novel Read Online Free

the fucking cat that ate the canary and then
bashed in its goddamned head in with a hammer, and not one of these geniuses
can get a word out of her. I’ve heard you’re some kind of damn prodigy. Your
boss recommends you so highly in fact that I’m absolutely certain you must’ve
shot a little old lady crossing the street right in the fucking back to get
transferred with such a glowing recommendation. Carl Dickson hasn’t had a nice
thing to say about anyone since the day I met him. But Sullivan, you’re in
luck. I want you to get in that room and prove to me you are worth the goddamn
paper your recommendation is printed on and enlighten us all with these
super-fucking-natural interrogation powers of yours. And don’t dare come out
until she has signed this confession, or you just might end your career as a
beat cop writing muthafuckin’ parking tickets in El Cajon. I’m Tackett,” he
said pointing a finger in his chest. “She’s in there. Now go!”
      “Don’t forget your pen,” he said, holding
it only inches from Sullivan’s face.
    He stood dumfounded for a moment.
    “What are you waiting for a tour of
your new goddamned office? This is it kid. Get in there or get back to Richmond
or wherever the hell you came from. And knock twice when she signs it or get
the hell out of my precinct!”
    He wasn’t sure he could stand there
any longer without throwing a punch, so he tiptoed around the sergeant
carefully. Tackett was solidly built, but he was an old man and Sullivan never
listened to abuse for very long before taking a shot. He slid silently into the
interrogation room and heard the door lock forcefully behind him. Goddamn, this place was intense.
    He hadn’t known exactly what to
expect at his first day on the job, but he sure as hell wasn’t expecting this.
In the corner of the room behind the desk sat a woman with straight black hair
pulled back into a headband. She was smoking. She barely looked up when he
walked in. The room was spare and even more strangely had no windows or glass.
Somehow, someone had clearly forgotten the value of double-sided mirrors. He
was truly alone with her then.
    Old school. Wow. Ok ,
he thought . This is make or break. He
could always apply somewhere else . Mall
cop, maybe .
    The woman suddenly looked up seeming to notice he wasn’t
quite prepared.
    “Boy, they are really scraping the
bottom of the barrel now aren’t they? Did all the grown-ups go home, honey?”
    The woman was probably in her
thirties, late thirties--maybe even forties, but her clothes, jewelry, not to mention
attitude were all Beverly Hills. Since he knew absolutely nothing about the
case he decided to play right along.
    “Yeah, they did give up actually.
My sergeant just sent me in to entertain you until the place closes.”
    The woman drew from a lit cigarette
seductively, like something right out of an old black and white movie. It made
him crave a smoke badly; he thought he could taste it. As she exhaled she
placed her tongue on the tip of her lip before speaking.
    “You must be fresh out of the
academy? No wait. There’s something else—ah, you just act young. I see it now.
I know a Botox doctor who could fix those crow’s feet. That forehead. You’ve
done a lot of worrying in your life. Let’s see I put you at about 42, no wait
younger, just 40.”
    “You’re a good guesser,” he said
flashing a toothy grin.
    The woman laughed.
    “Would you like to smoke too?”
    “Can you really smoke in here?”
    “I can do whatever I want, wherever
I want detective.”
    “Speaking of th--”
    “Nice transition detective,” she
said interrupting before he could get a word out. “Look, I have already spoken
to all the idiots in charge and there is nothing left for me to share I’m
afraid.”
    The woman tilted her head and
looked at him with a squint, adjusting the cross around her neck on its chain.
She let her hand slide slowly down to her breastbone.
    “Tits like these take you