Thanet Blake Read Online Free Page A

gangster type. You know what I mean, big scar on his right cheek, beady, black eyes that stared at you, and a face that never smiled. Yeah, all that, and he was dressed in black.
    With his right hand he grabbed his Desert Eagle and gave it a spin. It stopped with its barrel pointing at me.
    “Bang, you’re dead. I learned that trick by watching Hollywood gangster movies. Pretty neat, huh?” His voice was soft, but definitely sinister. “You better have a good reason for sitting down at my table. I don’t like people. Who are you?”
    Oh, boy. Talk about an introduction to another nutcase. “I’m a private investigator.”
    “There’s more than one in this city. What’s your handle?”
    “Thanet Blake.”
    Did I say his face was one that never smiled? I was wrong. It smiled, and he hollered.
    “Well, I’ll be damned. You’re that inept PI I’ve read about. Hey, you’re all right, my kind of guy. Smoky, bring Mr. Blake a half dozen beers.”
    Folks, I’m not kidding you. The guy was excited about me. He even put his gun away. So how had Draco read about me? I have a biographer who writes all kinds of lies about yours truly, Thanet Blake, and my biographer has a publisher.
    “Man, I read about your latest gig. The Boa Murders, was really something. Have you found out who offed the barber?”
    “No, that’s why I’m here.” I hesitated to ask if he did it for fear of being his next target.
    “It wasn’t me. However, had I been in that alley, it would have been.”
    This is an unusual situation for me. I’m face to face with a killer, and I’m not his target. I gulped down the first beer for enough courage to talk. “Have you any idea who might have offed Sudowsky?”
    “No, I haven’t heard anything, not even a murmur. I know he had a lot of enemies, including me.” He leaned toward me and whispered. “Just between you and me, I was getting ready to bump him off, but somebody beat me to it. I don’t like that. He was my target.”
    I finished all six of my beers and left. Draco hated to see me go.

Chapter Nine
     
     
    This private detective cusses a lot when he has no clues. He also goes over the top with his drinking and smoking and ends up taking a nap at the Ramara Davie’s Pleasure House. Ramara and I ended up sleeping together. She’s gorgeous, soft, and warm. Years ago we had a fierce thing for each other. In a way we still do.
    After a shower together and dressing each other, we sat down to bacon, sausages, scrambled eggs, and gallons of coffee. In between stuffing my face I asked questions about the offing of Sudowsky.
    Ramara’s voice was a symphony to my ears. “None of my ladies have heard anybody bragging about his killing. I’m sorry. Would you like more coffee, along with more me?”
    “Yes and yes.”
     
    I finally pried myself away from Ramara the following day. Where to look next? I decided I needed a bar, so I went to Rumpott’s favorite watering hole. Rumpott wasn’t there. The last I heard of my old drinking buddy, he was still in Vietnam seeing to the grave of his murdered wife. It was lonely without him, but not for long. On my second Guinness, Irving joined me at my table. Now Irving owns a donut stand with his brother Matthew. I mooch donuts and coffee from them at least once a week. Am I now such a great non-paying customer that Irving has decided to start coming to me with a paper sack full of donuts? The answer is yes. He handed one to me, and I munched away and could not resist asking, “What’s the occasion?”
    Irving frowned. “You’re hard to find. This is the sixth bar I’ve been to. The occasion, I’m not sure. Several hours ago there was a woman at our stand looking for you.”
    “That’s not unusual. What about her?”
    “She didn’t look right. She had a mean, wild look in her eyes, and her face was scary.”
    “Describe her.”
    Two minutes later Irving handed me another donut. I nibbled on it. “I know who she is.”
    As Irving got up to