Free The Hemingway Thief by Shaun Harris

think there’s any chance he doesn’t know we know about it?”
    â€œMr. Cooper is indeed correct,” Thandy said, and took another swig. “But not entirely. I’m not stealing it. I am reclaiming it. You see, the Ebenezer Milch you know stole it from me less than a week ago.”
    â€œThat’s not the story he told us,” Grady said. He spat the words with some bravado, but I knew as well as he did that Milch had been lying. Doc had been suspicious of the story of discovering the manuscript in a random trunk, and a person of Thandy’s obvious means finding and purchasing it made much more sense. Still, Milch’s name was hidden in the manuscript. That couldn’t have been a coincidence, and I wasn’t ready to jump on the Newton Thandy train so quickly. After all, he had made his introductions via gunpoint.
    â€œI’m sure Mr. Milch told you all sorts of wild tales,” Thandy said. “He is a career criminal. That’s what the police told me, at least. A career criminal with a violent streak. A dangerous man is what I’m saying.” He snapped his skeletal fingers and the colonel handed him the manila folders. He handed one to me. I took it and flipped through the thin copy paper as if I were handed dossiers like it every day. There was a mug shot of our Mr. Milch along with what I can only assume was a police record, at least it looked like the ones I’d seen on TV. I closed the folder and handed it to Grady.
    â€œCon man,” Grady said, more to himself than me. “Thief, too.”
    â€œIt’s all here in the files, gentlemen,” Thandy said, rubbing his hands together again. “I have men on my payroll who can find out anything about anybody.” He opened another folder. “For instance, Mr. Doyle, the file we’ve compiled on you is especially interesting. This file suggests you are a man who is no stranger to criminal enterprises.” He closed the folder and a reptilian smile slithered across his face.
    â€œWell, yeah, I was in the DEA,” Grady said with a sniff.
    â€œYes, well, it also says you are the type of man who worked both sides of the street.”
    â€œIt says that?” Grady said. He gave me a quick glance as if to assess my reaction to this news.
    â€œNot in so many words.”
    â€œThen how many words did it use?”
    â€œIt says you were a DEA agent assigned to New Orleans,” Thandy said. He put the bottle to his lips again and grimaced when he realized it was empty. He tossed the bottle onto the desk and pulled a fresh one from his inside pocket. I had an uncle who used to pull the same trick with rum bottles he would swipe from airplanes. “It goes on to say that you were under investigation for corruption; bribery, to be specific. You chose to leave the agency on your own, and then two witnesses disappeared. The case was closed due to lack of evidence.”
    â€œAnd you think that means what? I was dirty?”
    â€œIt suggests that other people saw you that way. There must have been a reason for them to think you’re that sort of man. I’m simply appealing to that part of your nature. The part that might be willing to hear my offer.”
    â€œYou know, for a bookseller you’re not too good at reading between the lines, are you, Thandy?” Grady said. Thandy closed Grady’s folder, placed it in on the desk, and picked up the last one. He checked his watch.
    â€œAnd that means?”
    â€œIt means fuck you,” Grady said.
    Thandy took a swig of the pink stuff and turned to me.
    â€œYour turn, Mr. Cooper.”
    â€œFor what?”
    â€œIt says here you’re from Chicago,” he said. “I have your occupation as author?”
    â€œNovelist,” I said. I could feel my face reddening. I knew what was coming next.
    â€œI’ve never heard of you,” he said, as if that were the definitive word on my career. “But that