Free 1978 - Consider Yourself Dead by James Hadley Chase

out a pack of cigarettes, he offered it. ‘Marcia tells me you’re guarding the Grandi babe.’ He laughed. ‘Some racket! Some babe!’
    Frost grinned. He was so relieved that he hadn’t to part with four thousand dollars, his previous assessment that Silk could be dangerous began to fade. Also he liked Silk’s remark about ‘fast buck folk.’ That’s what he was: hunting for the fast buck.
    ‘That’s a fact,’ he said. ‘Well, it’s a job.’ He put the bills back into his wallet. A thought dropped into his mind. He would tell Gina he had paid his debt, give her I two thousand and the hock ticket, and keep the four thousand for himself.
    A heavily built man came out of the elevator and moved towards Silk.
    ‘Hi, Lu,’ he said. ‘You want a little bet?’
    Silk went into his senile act.
    ‘You bet too high for me, Mr. Lewishon.’
    ‘Aw, come on! Four to one with target rifles.’
    Frost headed for the elevator. Some racket! he thought. What the hell was he doing, sitting in a guardroom at six hundred a week! He was sure Silk would be picking up four thousand in the next half hour!
    Ross Umney was hanging around the elevator as Frost reached the restaurant floor.
    ‘You want to eat, Mike?’ he asked.
    ‘I’ve already eaten. Where’s Marcia?’
    ‘Tied up right now.’ Umney leered. ‘A girl has to work. I want you to meet a good friend of mine. He’s got influence.’
    Umney linked his arm into Frost’s arm and led him down a corridor, opened a door and led him into a small room where Mitch Goble was waiting.
    Goble was chewing his way through a vast hamburger.
    He wiped his fat fingers on a serviette, got to his feet, and beamed at Frost.
    ‘Mitch, I want you to meet a good friend of Marcia’s,’ Umney said. ‘Mike Frost.’
    Goble extended his hand.
    ‘A pleasure, Mike. I’ve heard about you . . . you’re one of us people.’
    They all sat down at the table.
    ‘Have a drink?’ Umney said and snapped his fingers.
    A waiter appeared.
    ‘Scotch?’ Umney asked, looking at Frost who nodded.
    Frost was regarding Goble, unable to place him. His clothes were casual but expensive. His fat, swarthy face wasn’t prepossessing, and, Frost thought, the genial smile could be a front.
    ‘How are you liking this little city?’ Goble asked.
    ‘Fine.’
    ‘Yeah . . . you’ve got yourself a sweet location,’ Goble went on. ‘The Grandi’s pad must be quite something. You like it?’
    ‘Who wouldn’t?’ Frost had a feeling that Goble was probing. During his service with the N.Y. cops, he had often run into men like Goble: smooth, dangerous operators. He decided to do some probing himself. ‘What’s your racket?’
    The waiter arrived with the drinks, then he whispered something to Umney who scowled.
    ‘Always something in this joint. Have to leave you boys. There’s a creep who is moaning.’ He tossed off his drink, patted Frost on his shoulder, said, ‘Mitch’ll look after you,’ and he left.
    Frost remembered the same performance when Umney had left him alone with Silk. He became very alert.
    ‘My racket?’ Goble said, and cut himself another hunk off his hamburger. ‘I set up operations. Some guy comes to me and says he has an idea to make dough, what do I think about it? I look at the operation and tell him yes or no. Call me the outside man looking in.’
    ‘Is that right?’ Frost sipped his drink. ‘Get you anywhere?’
    ‘Oh, sure. We fast buck folk squeeze up a living.’ Goble laughed. ‘Marcia tells me you’re taking care of the Grandi babe. Only last week, I had a guy with a nutty idea he could snatch that babe and pick up twenty million dollars. I told him he should get his head examined.’ He paused and stared directly at Frost. ‘Right?’
    Frost felt a prickle run up his spine.
    ‘Right . . . what?’
    Goble paused to finish the hamburger, sighed, then shook his head.
    ‘No way to snatch the babe,’ he said. ‘Right?’
    ‘Your guy can try,’ Frost said