Free Dues of Mortality by Jason Austin Page A

stutter. Said his name was Kelmer.”
    Shaw
added a slow shake of his head to his temple massage. I
hate Gabriel .
    Block
grinned with satisfaction. “Know him, do ya?”
    Shaw
said nothing.
    “ Anyway,
he sounded reeeeeeally nervous, like he was tryin' to warn the babe
about something.”
    Shaw
turned away from Block’s bad breath.
    Block
just leaned closer. “They don’t know I was hired,”
he whispered. “They ain’t gonna put it together. You
gotta figure she's already told them about the phone calls. But when
I tell them I was hired, man, them gears are gonna start rolling and it won't be long
before they make their way down to Millenitech’s front door.”
Block was foaming with priggishness. He grinned even wider, safe in
the knowledge that in a few hours he’d be downing shots of Gran
Platinum with a large-breasted stripper at his favorite nightspot.
    Shaw
stared blankly at the table; it was the only thing in the room that
didn’t hurt his eyes now. This was going to get messy and he
was fresh out of hip waders. I
hate Gabriel .
    “ Well,
I’ll be damned,” Block cackled, “a lawyer with
nothing to say. Will wonders never cease?”
    “ Was
that all he said?” Shaw asked, knowing he’d rather drop a
firecracker down his pants than hear the answer.
    “ What?”
    “ The
man who called...what else did he say?”
    Block
wiped his hand down his face to keep from pimp-smacking Shaw into the
corner.
    “ Fuck
me!” he blared. “You still think I'm the stupidest shit
on the face of the Earth, don't you?”
    You
don’t really want me to answer that, Shaw thought.
“Look, Mr. Block...”
    “ Naw,
you look muh’fucka’!” Block shot to his feet,
knocking over his chair. “I’ve told you everything you
need to know and everything you’re gonna know until I’m
on the street! Now you tell the man to cut the shit! Tell him to get
off his ass and get me out, now! Otherwise, by the time he sits down
to dinner tonight, the cops are gonna be serving him dessert!”
    “ All
right!” Shaw said and felt a twinge of relief. Let
this moron dig his own grave, he
thought. Shaw was basically just the messenger. Gabriel
couldn't blame him for Block being an idiot. It
would be easy for Shaw to cover his own ass
and let the cow-chips fall where they may. Shaw motioned for his
client to retake his seat. “Now, if we could please finish
things?”
    Block
complied, snatching the chair from the floor and straddling it
backwards.
    Shaw
obligingly threw open his briefcase and began removing papers.
    “ I
don’t suppose any of your arresting officers roughed you up or
forgot to read you your rights or anything?” he asked snidely.
    Block
just smirked. “ My asshole
was kinda sore when I came to. You think I should read anything into that ?”

Chapter 9

    Washington, D.C., August 25,
10:25 p.m.

    Beaumont's
BMW, rented by proxy and under a false name, cruised into the motel
parking lot and occupied a space by a vending machine. The senator
killed the engine, stepped out and put his head on a swivel. He was
nervous, felt exposed. He peered up at the cloudless sky. The golden
rays of sun may as well have been spotlights. He turned and scanned
the balcony for the room number. On the far right corner of the
second story was a door with a number five to the left of an eight.
The eight was twisted on its side to resemble the symbol for
infinity. Beaumont buttoned his blazer as if he was strapping on body
armor and walked quickly to the door. He stopped in front of it and
swelled his chest. The meeting would be a tense one. He would have to
make it absolutely clear how deep in the shit they were and that
hunkering down until the heat wore off was the only real option.
Neither of them would like it. Beaumont had had the president against
the ropes, for weeks and this “misstep” with MIT had
dealt the agenda a stinging rabbit punch. The senator gave two
methodical taps on the door and three more taps after. The beep of