Heirs of Cain by Tom Wallace Page B

lock.”
    “That’s known as breaking and entering. People go to the hoosegow for doing that.” Moss stared at Collins’s hands. “Just what is it you’re lookin’ for, anyway? And why?”
    “Cardinal was a friend of mine.”
    “Who was a friend of yours?” Moss asked.
    “Cardinal.” Collins saw the confused look on Moss’s face. “Taylor. Taylor was a friend of mine.”
    “Then how come I’ve never seen you here before?”
    “Because I’ve never been here. I haven’t seen Cardinal for many years.”
    “Why do you keep calling him Cardinal?”
    “Cardinal was Taylor’s code name.”
    “Code name? What was he, some kind of James Bond spy?”
    “No.”
    “What about you? You got a code name?”
    “Cain.”
    “Cain? Like in the Bible?”
    “Yes.”
    “He murdered his brother, didn’t he?”
    “So the story goes.”
    “Well, how can I be sure you ain’t a murderer?”
    “Because I’m not.”
    Moss thought about it for a few seconds, then said, “Listen, mister, I’m not sayin’ you’re lyin’ to me or anything like that, but I’m in charge of security around here. So I gotta check you out.”
    “No need to bother. I’m kosher.”
    “Look, man, even if I did believe you, I’d still need some proof. I could lose my job if you don’t check out A-OK. This job don’t pay much, but it’s all I got.”
    “You won’t lose your job, Moss. Promise.”
    Moss cut his eyes downward. “From the look of those hands of yours, maybe I ought to be worried about more than losin’ my job.”
    Collins reached for his wallet, hesitated. “You’re gonna have to trust me, Moss. Just like I trusted you.”
    “Trusted me?” Moss said, his interest suddenly piqued. “How’d you trust me?”
    “By telling you Taylor’s code name. And mine. There aren’t ten people in the world who possess that information.”
    “Well—”
    “I’ve heard you’re a good man, Moss. I also heard you were pretty close to Cardinal. I’m banking on all that being true.”
    “Why?” Moss asked, leaning slightly forward.
    “I may need your help somewhere along the way.”
    Making an outsider think he’s being brought into some secret inner circle is the greatest of all baits. Collins knew from the look in Moss’s eager eyes that the bait had been snapped up and swallowed. But offering the bait was only half of the proposition. Now came the closer—a dash of fear.
    Always throw in fear.
    “In my business, trust isn’t something one can assume. I have to be very careful who I give it to. When I do extend that trust, and if it’s broken, well, let’s just say bad things happen.”
    Collins paused briefly, then said, “really bad things,” in a stern whisper.
    Moss leaned forward like a deaf man straining to hear. When he was sure nothing more was coming, he took the bait a second time. “What kind of bad things?”
    “Like what happened to Cardinal.”
    Moss glanced down at Collins’s hands. “You didn’t kill Taylor, did you?”
    “No. But I’ve got to find the man who did. And fast.”
    “You a cop?”
    “I’m no cop.”
    “Private investigator?”
    “It’s not important who or what I am, Moss. What is important is finding Cardinal’s killer.”
    Moss put the candleholder back on the dresser. His face was set in that frown that accompanies deep thought. Finally, he looked up at Collins. “This may be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m goin’ along with you on this. It’ll probably end up bein’ my ass.” He paused, looked around the room. “What the hell? Anyway, you stand a better chance of catchin’ Taylor’s killer than those peckerhead cops downtown.”
    “Those peckerhead cops are not to know anything at all about me. That clear?”
    “Right, perfectly clear.”
    Collins went into the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Except for two loose Tylenol capsules on the bottom shelf, it was empty. He bent over the tub and ran his forefinger around the inside of the