V Is for Vengeance

think he knew English well, but as it turned out, in his job, fluency wasn’t required unless it came to guns and hand-to-hand combat, at which he was truly gifted.
    “Hubert, would you cool it? I’m having a conversation here.”
    He said, “Sorry, boss,” but kept a watchful eye on the interchange.
    “I’m Kinsey Millhone. I’m a friend of Pinky’s.”
    “What’s that have to do with me?”
    “Last night Pinky and your brother got into a shoot-out and Pinky’s wife was hit in the crossfire. She’s in bad shape and Pinky’s worried sick about her medical bills.”
    “I’m not seeing the relevance.”
    “Pinky had a set of photographs to give you, only your brother got there first and destroyed both the prints and the negatives.”
    “Photographs of what?”
    “Cappi and Len Priddy chatting together in a parked car on six different occasions. Your brother sold you out.”
    Dante stared at her for a moment while he decided what to do and then he said, “Get in.”
    He stood aside while she slung her shoulder bag into the back of the limousine and slid in after it, shifting both herself and her bag over to the long side seat. When she was settled, he ducked in and took his usual place. To Tomasso, he said, “Take a drive. I’ll tell you when it’s time to bring us back.”
    Before Tomasso pulled away, he triggered the mechanism that closed the panel between the front seat and the rear of the car. By then, Hubert was back in the front seat. Dante was intent on the woman sitting to his left. She was somewhere in her thirties, more girl than woman as far as he was concerned. He couldn’t decide what to make of her. She was small-boned with a ragged mop of dark hair she must have chopped off herself. Hazel eyes, her nose ever so slightly crooked. He could tell she’d been banged up, but he couldn’t imagine why. He said, “How do you know Pinky? You don’t look like the lowlife type.”
    “I’m a private eye. He gave me the first set of key picks I ever owned and I owe him for that. I’m also fond of him, rascal that he is.”
    “And he hired you to do what?”
    “Not him. The man engaged to Audrey Vance.”
    He was getting it. “You’re the one took my money and gave it to the cops. You and her landlady up in San Luis Obispo. That was a bad thing you did.”
    “Hey, you sent guys to break into my studio. You violated my privacy and that’s just as bad.”
    He couldn’t believe she had the nerve to sound indignant when she was the one who’d wronged him. He nearly smiled but thought better of it. “We’re talking about a hundred grand you cost me.”
    She shrugged. “The courier service handed it over to Audrey’s landlady. Why am I to blame?”
    “Wait a minute. Now I know where I heard your name. I read about you in the paper. You blew the whistle on Audrey.”
    “What was I supposed to do? I saw her steal underwear and stuff it in her bag.”
    “You could have looked the other way. Audrey was a peach. She worked for me for years.”
    “I’m surprised she wasn’t better at her job.”
    “You’ve also been following a friend of mine and it’s upsetting her. Where do you get off pulling shit like that?”
    “Oh, right. Helping Hearts, Healing Hands. That’s a crock,” she said. “You want to talk about Cappi or go on trading recriminations? You ask me, we’re even.”
    “You got a hell of a nerve. Why’d you come to me with bullshit about Pinky? What the fuck do I care? The guy’s a punk.”
    “He needs help. I thought maybe we could work a trade.”
    “A trade ?”
    “Sure. I’ll tell you what I know and you pay his medical bills and living expenses until Dodie’s back on her feet.”
    He stared at her with amazement. “I’m a bad man. Didn’t anybody tell you?”
    “You don’t seem bad to me.”
    “I’m not someone you come to with a deal,” he said. “That’s the point.”
    She looked at him with . . . he wouldn’t call it insolence, but maybe cockiness. “Why not?”
    “Why not ? Take a look at the other players in this game. You tell me Cappi’s sold me out. You know what kind of guy he is? A claim like that can get you killed.”
    “Len Priddy’s worse.”
    “Than Cappi? How you figure?”
    “Len’s a cop, sworn to uphold the law. If he’s corrupt, then what happens to the rest of us?”
    “Oh, I see. You figure I’m corrupt to begin with so what difference does it make.”
    “Not at all. I suspect you play straight and you’re