The Deep Read Free

Remember the night the king and his court came to take you apart for a double cross and Bennett and I paid you off for all the favors? We put the big guys under a couple of guns and spit on them when they wilted. Sobel sent them back for us the next night and we sent him three shot-up hoods. Then I shot Sobel just for fun. Right in the behind. Remember that, Wilse?”
    â€œAll right. You were tough.”
    I shook my head. “Not really, friend. You know what I was.”
    â€œA juvenile delinquent.”
    â€œThat’s right. Now I’m tough.” Then I grinned real big. “You know?”
    The professional mask was back again. “I know,” he acknowledged.
    To one side Augie changed his stance. He was facing me now. There was more butter on my bread.
    I said, “You have Bennett’s will?”
    â€œThat’s right.”
    â€œIt’s all in order?”
    â€œI was his legal advisor.”
    â€œWhat does it say?”
    For a moment he judged me, straining hard to see if I could be had. “Provisionally, you are his inheritor.”
    â€œWhat provisions?”
    â€œFirst, that you arrive within two weeks after his death.”
    â€œThis is the fourth day.”
    He nodded. “Second, that you satisfactorily determine his killer’s identity in the event of violent death.”
    â€œNice of him.”
    â€œHe had great confidence in you, Deep.”
    â€œWas the word determine or avenge?”
    â€œDetermine. Mr. Bennett wanted it otherwise, but it never would have stood up. Legally, that is.”
    â€œLegally, of course. Now one more question, Wilse. Determine to whose satisfaction?”
    â€œYou are very astute, Deep.” He opened the drawer of his desk, drew out a newspaper tearsheet and pushed it toward me. Outlined in red was a two-column, full-length spread titled “Uptown Speaking” by Roscoe Tate.
    I didn’t have to read it again. It was one man’s hate being spilled over into print. A guy who couldn’t make it the soft way crying out loud because others did. A guy who had a hate for three people in the world. Me, Bennett and himself.
    â€œProve it to Roscoe?”
    â€œNot necessarily. Merely ‘determine.’ ” A smile tugged at the comer of Batten’s mouth. “That won’t be easy, you know.”
    â€œ ‘No, it won’t. He hates me pretty hard.”
    The smile widened. “That’s not why.”
    I looked at him quickly.
    â€œTate thinks you did it, Deep.”
    â€œSilly boy.’”
    â€œBut with reason.”
    â€œGo ahead,” I said.
    â€œThe empire was a big one. You had been unheard from for twenty-five years. Could be that you knew where Bennett stood and decided to take over, figuring that he’d stick to the old agreement you two had of the survivor inheriting and... well, taking care of the... killer?”
    â€œIt’s a killer, Wilse.”
    â€œYou see how it figures.”
    â€œI see. Now tell me something. If I don’t prove out, who gets the domain?”
    His smile went into all teeth. White teeth very big and clean. “Me. I get it all.”
    â€œSmart boy,” I said.
    â€œQuite.”
    â€œI may have to kill you, Wilse.”
    He got pasty-white then. “You’d be tied into it so tight ...”
    â€œThat still wouldn’t stop me from killing you, Wilse. It would be easy. No trouble at all.”
    The slack in his face was that of an old man. For a minute he had forgotten what the real tough ones were like. In twenty-five years he had grown big to the point where sudden death had no personal meaning any longer, now he was staring it down again.
    I said, “What do I come into?”
    â€œSupposing I read the will. That should ...”
    â€œTell me yourself, Wilse. You won’t lie. I’m not worried.”
    His mouth was a fine, tight line, the tautness reaching up to his eyes. “The