The Righteous Cut Read Online Free

buttoned his jacket. “How do you sleep at night, Richards?”
    The city councilman’s face hardened and the lazy smile disappeared. “Like a baby, Mel. I dream about money in the bank and sleep like a baby. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got city business to attend to.” He ostentatiously pulled some papers from a basket and began reading them while Robert Langdon herded the two businessmen out of the office.
    Langdon paused in the doorway as a pretty young woman with a stylish cap of feathery blonde hair appeared there. “Mr. Richards?”
    â€œYes, Meredith,” Richards said without looking up.
    â€œCaptain Casey from the police is here.”
    â€œSend him in.”
    Langdon stood to the side and gestured for the policeman to enter the office. “Have a seat, captain.” Langdon waited until Casey was seated, then took up his former position behind Richards’ desk.
    Richards looked up as the chief of detectives sat down across from him. “Well, what do you know so far?”
    â€œNot much. The room hadn’t been cleaned in months and they’ve picked up fifty different sets of fingerprints so far, not including Amsterdam’s. It’ll take time to check them all.”
    â€œA pity they can’t pick up fingerprints on skin,” Richards said bitterly. “I’ll bet you’d find the broad’s all over Jack.”
    Casey folded his hands across his stomach. “Yeah, that would be helpful, all right.”
    Richards glared at the detective. “What about the house dick and the bell captain? Did you get anything out of them?”
    Casey smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “We kept them up all night looking at mug books, but it was no soap. We’re holding both of them on a pandering charge to see if their memories improve, but I’m not very optimistic. The girl may be new in town, or maybe just new in that vicinity. We’ve got Vice Squad detectives combing the area with the girl’s description.”
    Richards rubbed his face, his frustration evident in his glance. “What about the hotel staff? Could they have done it?”
    Casey shook his head. “Doesn’t look like it. The janitor is sixty-three years old and has a bad leg. McKelvey’s spine is made out of rubber, so he makes a lousy suspect, too. Besides, the desk man and one of the bellhops say he never left the lobby. The bell captain was shooting craps with the other bellhops in the back.”
    Richards sagged in his chair. “Great.”
    â€œTell me something, councilman,” the detective said. “Had Amsterdam said anything to you about having a run-in with somebody, or maybe meeting somebody who had an old beef with him?”
    Richards’ face got red. “Nuts. Nobody in this town who knew anything would try to jerk the rug out from under Jack Amsterdam. They’d know better.”
    Casey uncrossed his legs and bent forward, staring intently at the city councilman. “Then why is he dead? I’ve been a cop for a long time and I’ve seen a lot of killing. A whore, caught in the act of rolling a customer, might slash the john with a knife or a razor, anything to slow him up while she made a getaway. But this is different. Amsterdam was killed by a pair of .22 target rounds to the head. A nice, clean kill.”
    â€œFuck.” Richards’ voice was flat and cold, his body rigid in his chair.
    Casey stared at him without an ounce of friendliness in his demeanor. “The trouble with this case is that you and I both know your office is nothing more than a machine to help you make money through graft and extortion. There are probably two hundred people within the city limits with a motive to kill Amsterdam—or you, for that matter. We both also know that you’ve got to keep your mouth shut because any information that would lead to the arrest of the killer would probably put you right beside