Forty Thieves Read Online Free Page A

was proud of you too,” said Sid. “That’s no lie. I do have to say the drinks were a little weak.”
    “When we get home you can make us both a real one while I’m soaking my feet.” She sighed. “God, I love winning. We won’t make any actual money after the lab costs, but victory is sweet.”
    “Victory is sweet,” he agreed.
    The morning sun was streaming in the windows as Sid Abel drank his coffee. The phone across the room rang. It rang again. Sid looked up over the top of his newspaper at it, and then over at Ronnie, who was at her desk staring at her computer.
    “Whose turn is it?” she said.
    “I guess that means it’s mine,” he said as he stood up and walked to the work desk to pick up the phone.
    “You should be a detective.”
    He said, “Abels Detective Agency, this is Sid Abel.”
    The man on the other end said, “Mr. Abel, my name is David Hemphill.”
    “What can we do for you, Mr. Hemphill?” he said as he wrote the name on the pad beside the phone.
    “I work for Intercelleron Corporation in Woodland Hills. One of our employees was murdered just over a year ago. I’d like to discuss the possibility of hiring your agency to look into it.”
    “All right,” said Sid. “Are you free for an hour or so today?”
    “I can make time for this. If you’d like to come to Intercelleron—”
    “Not just yet,” said Sid. “If we need to look around there later, it would be better if we aren’t familiar faces. Can you meet us today for lunch at Merinal restaurant on Grand Avenue at twelve thirty?”
    “Yes,” said Hemphill. “I’ll be there.”
    “How do I recognize you?”
    “I’m wearing a navy blue suit and red tie. I’m six foot three.”
    “See you at twelve thirty.”
    “Eyes open,” Sid said. “Keep your eyes open. Don’t blink when you punch.”
    “They’re open when I hit you,” Ronnie said. “I blink when you hit me. Ow.”
    “Don’t wince, either.” He walked in on her, throwing a combination of punches that were fast, but had little force behind them. “Think about your next chance to get me. This is not about me hitting you.”
    “It is when you hit me.”
    She sidestepped a punch, jabbed her left hard to his chest, and brought the right toward his face, but he deflected the blow with his forearm.
    “Good,” he said. “That was about you hitting me.”
    She jabbed again, this time bouncing her fist off his shoulder.
    “Again, good.”
    “Good because I missed your ugly dumb face?”
    “Because you’re looking, turning this into a fight. Dodge, weave, keep my punches from connecting the way you’ve been doing, but always keep looking for your chance to hurt me.”
    She saw his next jab coming, moved her head to the side slightly so his fist went over her shoulder, and brought her left into his face just as she pushed off with her right foot. The blow went to his cheekbone, and he moved his head to her right to evade it, straight into her right hook. He dodged the next punch.
    “Great,” he said, and hit her with a few quick taps. “Your eyes were wide open all the way, and those shots were good.”
    “Thanks, you patronizing jerk.”
    “If you don’t like it, do something.”
    She launched a quick attack, her arms moving as she advanced, jabbing at his eyeline with her left to blind him, and launching body blows with her right.
    He defended against her attack without counterpunching, letting her feel her blows landing, watching her work out the ways to press her advantage.
    The bell on the timer rang, and she let her arms hang limp, stepped into him, and leaned on him.
    “That was a great job,” he said.
    “My arms are so tired. I don’t think I could lift them again if I had to.”
    “That’s good too,” he said. “When you’re fighting, use everything you have. Don’t save anything. There’s not going to be a better use for your energy later.”
    She smiled and looked up at him. “Remember you said that later.”
    “No need for