Deadly Diamonds Read Free Page B

to the police. And, frankly, if I thought along their lines, I’d be inclined to play it safe and assume that he might.
    All things considered, Mr. O’Byrne was right. It looked like the start of an “interesting” day.

CHAPTER THREE
    â€œDid you touch the body?”
    That was aimed at both O’Byrnes. The elder, being more vocal, shot out a quick, “Of course not.” The son just fell in line with a head shake.
    That was a test. One of them failed it, but which one? There was a small gap between the line of congealed blood and the body in the trunk. Someone had moved the body after it had been in the trunk for some time. I was inclined to believe the father’s word. He seemed to have enough sense of his own power to handle any situation without resorting to lies. The son, on the other hand—
    I walked over to the stoop where young Kevin was back sitting with a hangdog, woe-is-me look on his downcast face. I sat down beside him. I put my arm around his shoulder and smiled a compassionate smile. That was for the benefit of the father, still peering into the trunk, but keeping an eye on me as well.
    â€œRough night, eh, Kevin?”
    He looked into my understanding face and nodded.
    â€œAny idea whose car this is?”
    The head shook.
    â€œHow about the guy in the trunk? Any idea who he is?”
    Another shake.
    â€œWhat were you and your friends doing in the North End?”
    â€œPizza.”
    Aha! I had a conversationalist on my hands at last.
    â€œYou kids go over there much?”
    Another shake, followed by “Never.”
    â€œUh-huh. I’ll need the names and addresses of the other boys with you.”
    He looked stunned by this unexpected request. I kept smiling.
    â€œJust to get this in context, Kevin, do you have the foggiest idea of how much trouble you’re in?”
    A blank, juvenile look appeared to go with the turned-backward baseball cap. “I didn’t do anything. I just borrowed the car. They’ll get it back.”
    I edged closer and kept smiling. “See, here’s the thing. No, they won’t. That baggage in the trunk is what’s called a dead body. It has to be turned over to the police—car and all. The boys in the North End will never see the car or the body again. I figure that’ll be like a cherry bomb in a wasps’ nest.”
    He looked like the sudden victim of shock and awe. He was looking at me, but I noticed he kept a sideways view of his father.
    â€œGet a good grip, Kevin, because I’m going to tell you why I think you’re in ten times as much trouble as you seem to let on.”
    I noticed that he shifted into a calm alertness that shucked off the appearance of little-boy panic. I kept the beneficent smile and locked eyes with him.
    â€œYou see, I think your father is just what he appears to be with no pretenses. But I think you’re a lying, sleazy piece of crap. Keep looking at me. I don’t think you want your father in on this.”
    His eyes narrowed to slits. A coolness set in that had me convinced that I was looking at someone ten years older in savvy than the clueless kid in the turned backward cap.
    â€œFigure this, Kevin. Unless you’ve got mind rot, the son of the Irish South Boston mob boss doesn’t just cruise into enemy territory for pizza. There are pizza shops in South Boston.”
    He started to get up. I put pressure on the arm I had around his shoulder.
    â€œSit there. Second, you’d have to be brain dead not to know that a top-of-the-line Cadillac in front of Patrini’s belongs to someone you don’t want to mess with on a juvenile dare. Third, if it happenedthe way you said it did, why in hell would you open the trunk rather than just ditching the car on the first dark street? And given all of that, just how sappy do you think I’d have to be to buy your little juvenile prank story?”
    About then, I caught sight of Mr.