Jimmy the Kid Read Free Page B

at the automobiles in there. “In broad daylight,” he said. “ You go talk to the customer.”
    Murch shook his head. “I don’t talk to customers,” he said. “What I do, I drive.”
    â€œSo I see.” Max looked at the cars and the car carrier. “I’ll take them,” he said.
    â€œFine.”
    â€œCome around next week, we’ll talk money.”
    â€œOkay.”
    Max pointed down the driveway. “You’ll put them around by the body shop,” he said.
    â€œHave your people do it,” Murch said. “I’d rather not stick around.”
    â€œWhat about the truck?”
    Murch frowned at the truck. “What about it?”
    â€œ I don’t want it,” Max said. “You read the sign out front, it says used cars . I got no use for a truck.”
    â€œNeither do I, Max.”
    â€œTake it back where you got it.”
    â€œI don’t want to drive it any more.”
    â€œYou can’t dump a stolen truck on me, Stanley, that isn’t a thing to do.”
    â€œTake it someplace else tonight,” Murch told him. “Just park it out along the road. Have one of your people do it.”
    â€œWhy not keep it?” Max suggested. “You could drive around in it, every time you see a nice car just toss it in.”
    Murch looked at the truck, considering the idea. It had a certain appeal. But finally he shook his head and said, “No, it wouldn’t be any good. Too noticeable.”
    â€œStan, if I got to unload this truck, it’s got to cost you.”
    â€œSure, Max, we’ll take ten bucks off.” Murch shrugged it away, and turned to go back to the used-car lot. Behind him, Max looked at the car carrier the way the dissatisfied customer had looked at Max. Then he shook his head, and followed Murch through the chain-link fence.
    The customer wasn’t in the office. “Now what?” Max said. “I’ll tell you, he’s out front breaking windshields. We had one just last spring, came in, complained about all that stuff they always complain about, and first thing you know he’s got a wrench, he’s breaking windshields right and left. Terrible.”
    â€œTerrible,” Murch agreed.
    The two of them walked out the front door. Used cars were lined up on three sides of them, with placards in their windshields. Max pointed. “There he is! And who’s that with him?”
    â€œThat’s my friend Kelp,” Murch said.
    Kelp and the customer were standing next to a dilapidated green Chevrolet. They were talking. The customer seemed less aggrieved than before. In fact, he chuckled at something Kelp said, and he didn’t seem to mind it when Kelp patted his arm.
    â€œHo ho,” Max said. He looked and sounded awed.
    Kelp and the customer shook hands. The customer got into the green Chevrolet and started the engine. It sounded awful. Kelp waved to him and the customer waved back and drove off. Something under the car was scraping, causing an even worse noise than the engine and also causing sparks. The Chevrolet jounced down the driveway and went away.
    Kelp came walking over, a cheerful smile on his face in the sunshine. “Hi, Stan,” he said.
    â€œMister Chelp,” Max said, “could you use a job?”
    â€œWhat? No, thanks, I’ve got something on the fire.”
    Murch said, “You wanted to talk to me?”
    â€œRight. You want a lift somewhere?”
    â€œI left my car at a diner on Jericho Turnpike.”
    â€œI’ll take you there,” Kelp said.
    Murch said so long to Max, who was still looking dazed, and went with Kelp to the car he had parked at the curb. It was a Mercedes, with MD plates. Murch said, “Still copping doctors’ cars, huh?”
    â€œThey got the best taste,” Kelp said. “Power steering, power seats, power everything. You never catch a doctor cranking his own window down. Get