Mr. Paradise A Novel (28 page)

Montez made no move to let her out. He said, “You here with us, girl.”

Lloyd noticed Delsa not doing anything to help her. Didn’t say anything, either. Lloyd turned his head to check on Jerome by the counter, Jerome looking like he was loving it, fascinated by the ofays, how they went about it.

Avern said, “Will you all please let me handle this? I’m trying to find out if a warrant’s been issued for anyone’s arrest. And if so, what kind of evidence they think they have.”

Montez said, “I know they got nothing on me. I explained I got the bitches mixed up and they let me go.” He said to Delsa, “You here for these two dudes, huh? Come to ask me did I know where they are. They sitting right there, man, and that’s all I’m saying.”

Lloyd liked this talk, it was getting good, and knew Art wouldn’t take that shit, no . . .

Art saying, “This fuckin smoke, I swear,” Art shaking his head, pointing his finger like a gun at Montez, casual, elbow on the table. “You keep talking—”

“I told him,” Montez said, “that’s all I’m saying. You didn’t hear me? Take the wax outta your ears.”

Lloyd liked that, and the look on Art’s face, the man rigid. But Montez wasn’t through.

“You two have to work out where you stand. You so fucked up they must have something good on you. I bet your guns got traced to another gig. Y’all too cheap to throw ’em away.”

Lloyd saw Avern looking at the two now like he wanted to ask ’em something.

Carl said, “Goddamn it, I knew this one was going to hell.” He picked up his Smith and pointed it at Montez. But then he looked over at Delsa.

And Montez picked up Delsa’s gun.

Carl saying, “Did he tell on us?”

Lloyd moved to the end of the table so he could see Delsa’s face good, Delsa watching the two guys pointing guns at each other, Delsa taking his time.

Delsa saying, “I won’t tell you what I have on them or on you. Or who told me.”

Lloyd saw Montez shaking his head, aiming the gun, Lloyd believed, at Carl aiming his gun at Montez. He heard Montez say, “I never said one fuckin word about you two. Why would I? Ask him. They don’t have nothing on me. You say I hired you? All right, answer me this. How much did I pay you?”

Lloyd saw Art pick up his gun.

But it was Carl who fired,
bam,
and shot Montez in the head, a pane of glass behind him shattering, sprayed red.

Lloyd unbuttoned his white butler jacket, reached back underneath and brought out the gun he got off Jerome he’d tucked in his waist, the Sig three-eighty racked and ready. He
stepped over to the table, extended the gun at Carl, and shot him in the V of his open shirt, turned to Art bringing up his gun and
bam,
shot him in the throat, then watched to see if they might shoot back at him, but they both had strange looks on their faces, like they were drunk, and fell over on the table.

Lloyd turned to lay the gun on the worktable and look at Delsa.

Delsa said, “Nice going.”

Lloyd said, “I had enough of this bidness, criminals using my house as a hideout.”

Delsa said, “But where’d you get the gun?”

H
E TOLD WENDELL, SITTING
in the inspector’s office, “I asked, but didn’t care. The old guy stood up to armed felons and put them in Detroit Receiving, handcuffed to their beds. He shattered bones in Carl’s chest and shot out Art’s voice box. Lloyd said he took the three-eighty off Jerome, not wanting the boy to do something dumb. Jerome says Carl and Art picked it up with some other stuff from a house in Bloomfield Hills, while it was open for inspection, and Art made Jerome take the gun.”

Wendell said, “You believe him?”

Delsa said, “No, but what difference does it make? The home invasion was in Oakland County, but we’ve got Carl and Art for a double homicide. If they’re never arraigned on the robbery, Jerome won’t be either. I told him whoever put up the twenty grand changed their mind, reneged on it.
Orlando’s been picked up and the informant was getting a thousand from Crime Stoppers. Jerome wanted to know where they found Orlando. I told him a house on Pingree and he said, ‘Shit, that’s where Orlando’s granddaddy said he was, but I didn’t think he’d tell on him like that.’ I said, ‘A good investigator knows who to believe and who not to believe.’ Jerome said, ‘Keep it,’ and left.”

“He’ll show up again,” Wendell said. “What I want to know is why you went in there without backup.”

“It wasn’t a backup situation. I went to the scene of a homicide to talk to a witness. I don’t know Carl and Art are there.”

Wendell said, “One I never heard of, hiding out at the scene of the crime.” He stared across his desk at Delsa. “Carl asked if Montez had told on them and you said . . . ?”

“I wasn’t gonna tell what I had, or who told me.”

“But nobody had told you anything.”

“I threw that in.”

“And Carl believed you meant Montez. You promoted the action, didn’t you?”

“I gave it a nudge,” Delsa said. “The one I keep thinking about is Avern Cohn, how we’re gonna go about getting him arraigned.”

H
E SAID TO
K
ELLY,
“Avern’s sitting in his pongee robe in the squad room with Jerome, both waiting to be interviewed. I hear him telling this street kid his offices are in the Penobscot Building if he needs a lawyer. He doesn’t sound the
least worried about his own situation. He says yeah, the Caucus Club is right there at the Congress Street entrance, where Barbra Streisand performed when she was eighteen, just starting out and sang ‘Happy Days Are Here Again’ but not upbeat, real slow, like she’s being ironic, and you know what Jerome says to Avern?”

“ ‘Who’s Barbra Streisand?’ “ Kelly said, propped up in her bed with a Slim, her other hand fooling with the hair on Delsa’s chest.

He turned his head on the pillow. “How’d you know?”

“The way you set it up. Whatever he says has to be a surprise. A girl singer to Jerome is Lil’ Kim. He doesn’t know Barbra Streisand from Renée Fleming.”

“Who’s Renée Fleming?”

She leaned over and kissed him on the mouth and stayed there on her elbow looking at his face, so close. “You’re a cool guy, Frank. You’re getting those guys to go at each other and you’d look at me with those eyes and I kept quiet and watched you and waited for them to shoot each other. Did you know Lloyd had a gun?”

“Uh-unh. You hear him, ‘I had enough of this bidness.’ “

She said, “You want to move in?”

“As soon as we close the case. I get Carl to make a statement about Avern—”

“Their agent.”

“And take it across the street, see if the prosecutor likes it . . . I don’t know . . . I think he might slip through.”

“Do you care?”

He said, “You’re the only one on my mind.”

Kelly reached around behind her to get rid of the Slim and came back to him saying, “You know I’m in love with you. You’re my man, Frank, I’m hanging on to you.” She said, “If you’ll reciprocate.”

Delsa said, “Watch me,” and went at her, saying he was gonna eat her up and she loved it.

About the Author

Elmore Leonard
is “the hottest thriller writer in the U.S.” (
TIME
). His bestselling novels include
Glitz
;
Get Shorty
(adapted to the classic film by Barry Sonnenfeld); its sequel,
Be Cool
;
Out of Sight
(film by Steven Soderbergh);
The Big Bounce
(2004 film);
Tishomingo Blues
(to be a film by Don Cheadle);
Rum Punch
(adapted by Quentin Tarantino as
Jackie Brown
); and
Cuba Libre
. Elmore Leonard’s “Complete Crime Canon” is available from HarperCollins in e-book format; select titles are also available in downloadable audiobook format. Mr. Leonard and his wife, Christine, live in a suburb of Detroit.

Visit www.AuthorTracker.com for exclusive information on your favorite HarperCollins author.

ALSO BY
ELMORE LEONARD

When the Women Come Out to Dance

Tishomingo Blues

Pagan Babies

Be Cool

The Tonto Woman & Other Western Stories

Cuba Libre

Out of Sight

Riding the Rap

Pronto

Rum Punch

Maximum Bob

Get Shorty

Killshot

Freaky Deaky

Touch

Bandits

Glitz

LaBrava

Stick

Cat Chaser

Split Images

City Primeval

Gold Coast

Gunsights

The Switch

The Hunted

Unknown Man No. 89

Swag

Fifty-Two Pickup

Mr. Majestyk

Forty Lashes Less One

Valdez Is Coming

The Moonshine War

The Big Bounce

Hombre

Last Stand at Saber River

Escape from Five Shadows

The Law at Randado

The Bounty Hunters

Credits

Jacket photograph by Jan Cobb

Jacket design by Chip Kidd

Designed by Iva Hacker-Delany

Copyright

This book is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity, and are used fictitiously. All other characters, and all incidents and dialogue, are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real.

MR. PARADISE.
Copyright © 2004 by Elmore Leonard, Inc. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

EPub Edition © FEBRUARY 2004 ISBN: 9780061826818

FIRST EDITION

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