The Score: A Parker Novel Read Free Page A

his head. “The deal's no good,” he said. “I can see that already. See you around, Paulus.” He reached for the doorknob.
    “Wait a second, wait a second.” Paulus was getting agitated, but his voice wasn't rising. “Let me explain, will you?”
    “You don't have to. This moron Edgars is an amateur, but he's the one setting this job up. He doesn't know me, so he doesn't trust me, so he puts a tail on me to see if I come straight here or do I go see somebody else first because maybe I'm planning a cross.”
    “You can't blame him, Parker, he—”
    “I don't blame him. I don't work with him, either.”
    A heavy type in a brown suit with a beer can in his hand came through the entranceway, scowling. “What's the holdup here?” He looked at Paulus, and then at Parker. He had heavy black brows, and they were down in a V now to show he was irritated.
    Paulus was now really fidgeting. “Edgars,” he said, “this is Parker. There's been a—something's come up—there was a misunderstanding.”
    “What kind of a misunderstanding?” He was trying to act dangerous, but instead he was acting like a ward politician.
    Parker waited to see how Paulus would handle it, but Paulus couldn't handle it at all. All he could do was fidgetand look around and clear his throat. So Parker said, “You put a man to tail me.”
    Edgars shrugged. “So what? I want to know who I do business with, that's all.”
    “He pulled a knife when I called him.”
    Edgars scowled. “He did? That was stupid; I don't condone that. I'll have a talk with him.”
    “Not right away you won't.”
    “What's that supposed to mean?”
    “Tell him, Paulus.”
    Edgars turned his head and scowled at Paulus, waiting. Paulus fidgeted and cleared his throat, and finally he said, “He's dead, that's what he means.”
    “Dead! You killed him?”
    Parker shrugged, and it was Paulus who answered: “He didn't have any choice, Edgars. Your man pulled a knife on him. He didn't know the situation.”
    “I don't like that,” said Edgars. “I don't like that at all.”
    Parker took the dead man's wallet out and held it out to Edgars. “I took this off him.”
    Edgars took the wallet and frowned at it. “I don't understand this,” he said.
    Parker nodded. “I know. See you, Paulus.” He reached for the doorknob again.
    Edgars said, “Hold on there. Where the hell are you going?”
    “I'm out,” Parker told him. He pulled the door open.
    “Wait.” Edgars waved his hands a little. “Will you wait a goddam minute?”
    “For what?”
    Edgars grimaced, looked again at the wallet he was holding and then at Paulus. Paulus just looked uncomfortable. Edgars said, “Paulus, tell the others well be in in a minute.”
    “Sure thing.” Paulus went, happy to be off the hook.
    Parker was still standing in the doorway, half in and half out. Edgars said to him, “Wait one minute while we talk, all right?”
    Parker shrugged. He'd come this far, he could stick around a little longer. He came back in and shut the door.
    Edgars looked around the empty foyer and said, “I wish there was some place we could sit down.”
    “It doesn't matter.”
    “All right, I guess not.” Edgars looked at the wallet again with distaste and stuck it into a side pocket of his suit coat. Then he gnawed his lower lip and glanced at the entranceway leading into the apartment. Looking off that way, he said, “Maybe Paulus told you, this is the first time I've been involved in something like this.”
    “He told me. He didn't have to, but he did.”
    Edgars managed a sour grin and looked out at Parker from under his eyebrows. “Sticks out all over, huh?”
    “Yes.”
    “You and Paulus and the others,” Edgars said, “you all know each other, know what to expect from each other. Idon't know any of you at all. When I'm around you, my back itches.”
    Parker nodded. “Sure.”
    “You boys aren't exactly saints.”
    “So why get involved?”
    “A quarter of a million dollars, for