The Fixer

Начало книги

The prospect sat in the hot tub, fat and doughy. Looking like he would leave an oil slick as he melted in the steaming water. The Fixer crossed the redwood deck, dropped a robe, climbed down three steps and sat across from the sweating mound of human flesh.

“You Martin?”

The prospect’s mouth flapped up and down. No words. A three hundred pound manatee gurgling as the whirlpool teased bubbles around his hairy D-cup breasts.

“I asked if you’re Martin.”

The fat man scanned the pool area. Two o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon at an airport conference hotel. The Fixer knew the place would be empty. Perfect for sensitive conversations.

Martin brought his hand to his face. Two pink hams rubbing water out of his eyes. “Graham? You’re Graham?”

The Fixer nodded.

A slow smile crossed the fat one’s face. “You’re not what I expected.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

Yellow teeth peeked out between Martin’s fleshy lips. “I like your tattoo. A dagger through the heart. Nice for your line of work. What I don’t like is meeting in a jacuzzi.” He leaned his arms across the back of the tub. A porcine crucifix. “What’s the deal?”

Читать дальше →