Suckers - J.A. Konrath

“Happy Roy is a vicious psycho, Mr. McGlade. He’s a brutal, misogynist pig who enjoys
inflicting pain.”
“He’s probably rich too.”
Mrs. Garbonzo narrowed her eyes. “He’s wealthy, yes. What are you implying?”
“I like his extra spicy recipe. Do you get to take chicken home for free? You probably have
a fridge stuffed full of it, am I right?”
She released my face and buttoned up her blouse.
“I have to go. My husband gets paranoid when I go out.”
“Maybe because when you go out, you hire people to kill him.”
She picked up her purse and headed for the door. “I expect you to call me when you’ve
made some progress.”
“That includes ironing,” I called after her. “And hanging the stuff up. I don’t have any
hangers, so you’ll have to buy some.”
After she left, I turned off all the office lights and closed the blinds, because what I had to
do next, I had to do in complete privacy.
I took a nap.
When I awoke a few hours later, I went to the bank, cashed Mrs. Garbonzo’s check, and
went to start earning my money.
My first instinct was to dive head-first into the belly of the beast and confront Mrs.
Garbonzo’s hired hitman help. My second instinct was to get some nachos, maybe a beer or two.
I went with my second instinct. The nachos were good, spicy but not so much that all you
tasted was peppers. After the third beer I hopped in my ride and headed for the assassin’s
headquarters, which turned out to be in a well-to-do suburb of Chicago called Barrington. The
development I pulled into boasted some amazingly huge houses, complete with big lawns and
swimming pools and trimmed bushes that looked like corkscrews and lollipops. I doublechecked
the address I’d scribbled down, then pulled into a long circular driveway and up to a
home that was bigger than the public school I attended, and I came from the city where they
grew schools big.
The hitman biz must be booming.
I half expected some sort of maid or butler to answer the door, but instead I was greeted by a
fifty-something woman, her facelift sporting a deep tan. I appraised her.
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