"Gary Lovisi - Finders Keepers" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lovisi Gary)

Fats added, "Griff, I’m gonna find out about that. Guy could crap like that, on command, on schedule. I mean he’s robbing a bank for Christsakes! He’s gotta be under tremendous pressure…"

"Fats! I don’t wanna talk about it."

"I mean, pressure doing the armed robbery. Then on top of that, he’s gotta…"

"He’s gotta…perform. Poop on command. Do his trademark," I added, trying to help out Fats with the words before he got us into a place I didn’t want to go with this.

He smiled, "That’s it exactly, Griff."

I smiled, "You happy now, Fats? Okay, here we are. Let’s go in and see Emilio and you can ask him yourself. Just remember, we’re still looking for that stolen stiff."

Emilio Nardone was a thin, wiry man, dark hair, pencil-thin mustache, and eyes that gleamed like a mad man. With a smile to match. Handsome in a way, but a very strange way.

He opened the door after Fats pounded on it enough times making such a racket that if Nardone had copped the Strossen stiff even the dead guy would have woke up from all the noise.

Fats stabbed his BCPD badge in Nardone’s face, said, "Emilio Nardone, we wanna talk to you."

Nardone said nothing as Fats bulled his way into the house, down the hallway, to sit opposite Nardone in the small, stale living room. Watching him like a hawk. I followed, casing the dive as the low rent flop that is was. I sat down across from Fats.

I said to Nardone, "You know John Strossen?"

Nardone looked at me, at Fats, shrugged, "Never heard the name."

I nodded, said to Fats; "He’s lying. We don’t have time for games. Why don’t you take him out back and smack him around a little."

Fats just smiled, hit a big ham fist into the palm of his other hand meaningfully and said, "Sure, Griff, that sounds like fun. Come on, Nardone, you need a little loosening up, and I’m just the guy to put you in a definite talkative mood!"

Nardone turned pale.

Fats just smiled at him in that special way he had with perps, which actually got Nardone even more nervous.

I just nodded, "Don’t make too much of a mess, Fats, you know how much I hate cleaning up after you."

Fats said, "Come on now, Emilio… Let me show you how I used to bust heads over in Blacktown when I was a rookie. Now them was some violent days."

Nardone froze.

I gave Fats a grim little smile. Fats never busted heads in Blacktown or anywhere else, but Nardone didn’t know that. Nardone didn’t know that at all. All he knew was that a 290 pound mean-ass copper wanted to break his bones unless he talked. Back in the old days that was known as giving the perp ‘incentive’. Fats was big on incentive.

"L-L-L-ook, I, ah, okay, I lied." Nardone stammered. "I know Strossen, but I didn’t kill him."

"I didn’t ask you if you killed him, Emilio," I said. "I know who killed him. I want to know if you got the body?"

"What body?"

"Strossen’s body, you dink!" Fats growled.

I could see Nardone was lost. He just didn’t get it. So I said, "Spill what you know, Emilio."