Hate is Thicker Than Blood Read Free

Well, more than a bit. He’s a snake—a thug. The lowest of the low. Vicious,
     and head of one of the most dangerous gangs in the city. Exactly the kind of guy who’d kill his wife for the insurance money.”
    As Lockwood left, Mr. Gray was tipped back in the chair behind his big desk, his face rosy with expectation. Perhaps neither
     claim, the one for five thousand, or, better yet, the one for $100,000, would have to be honored.
    Frankie Nuzzo was a mess: freshly-dried blood covered a third of his forehead, a chunk of flesh was missing from the bridge
     of his nose, and when he spoke, you could tell he was having trouble moving his jaw.
    Being cranky didn’t make Frankie look any better, either. “I don’t unnerstan’ why you havta come here. When you said you was
     from the insurance compny, I figgered you was bringin’ me the money.”
    “I’m a claims investigator, Mr. Nuzzo,” Bill Lockwood informed him. “Insurance companies can’t just pay out claims without
     checking. That kind of policy might prove too tempting to those with criminal minds.”
    Nuzzo looked back at him, dead-eyed, and said nothing.
    “If you could tell me exactly what happened.”
    Nuzzo exploded at him. “What! You want me to talk about that? You think I ain’t got no feelings?”
    “Until we know exactly what happened, there’s no way we can put through your claim.”
    “Oh.” Nuzzo shrugged. One more “oh” and all his grief seemed to fall away. “Okay, so what should 1 tell you?”
    “The intruder. How’d he break in?”
    “The back winder. He broke in through the back winder.”
    “Your neighbors didn’t hear?”
    “Them creeps? Naah. Besides, he taped the window first, so it didn’t make no noise when he broke it. The adhesive tapes ‘re
     still on it, if you wanna see.”
    “Maybe later. Where were you when he came in?”
    “Out.”
    “Both you and Mrs. Nuzzo?”
    “Right.” Nuzzo rubbed his jaw carefully. “I took the missus out for a big night. Movies. A double feature at the Loew’s Kings,
     then a real nice meal at George’s—langostura, the works, then dancin’.”
    “That’s why she was wearing the necklace.”
    Nuzzo stared at him. “Yeah, that’s right.”
    “What happened when you got home?”
    “He was waitin’ for us, behind the front door.”
    “What’d he look like?”
    “Who knows? He was wearin’ a mask.” Nuzzo’s voice took on an edge. “Look, I already told all this to the cops…”
    Lockwood ignored him. “You couldn’t tell anything about him? His voice? His size?”
    “He didn’t say nothin’. He hit me almost immediately. I had no chance to see how big he was.”
    “Then what?”
    “Then I dunno. Finally, I come to, the cops’ve arrived, and they’re pullin’ me out of the hall closet. An’ then I see Maria.”
    “She was dead when you found her?”
    “Yeah.” Nuzzo’s face pinched together. “The poor thing. Killed like that. In cold blood.”
    “And the necklace was gone.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Nothing else.”
    “What?”
    “Nothing else was stolen?”
    “No.” Nuzzo was looking edgy again. “No, nothin’ else.”
    “Strange.”
    “What?” The voice was sharp and angry.
    “I said it’s strange, nothing else being taken.”
    “What strange? Maria’s necklace was valuable. Five thousand dollars.”
    “Mmm. But why nothing else?”
    “Who the fuck knows?” Nuzzo’s anger had exploded. The left eyelid began to flicker. “How about wrappin’ it up, pal? I’m tired
     of goin’ through this shit.”
    “You’re going to have to go through a little more if you want this investigation to go anywhere.”
    “Okay, big shot dick; look—” Nuzzo’s eyes were ice. “—there was nothin’ in this house to steal. I don’t keep no money here.
     What’s the guy going to do? Grab my radio?” He pointed to a large floor model. “Look around. What’s he gonna take?”
    “Your wife’s other jewels.”
    “My wife’s—” Nuzzo looked