Read Dirty Harry 04 - The Mexico Kill for Free Online

from the Naugahyde chair and strode over to his $5000 stereo system. The speakers were unobtrusively concealed in the corners of the living room, which was a pretty good trick seeing that they were the size of dowry chests—big dowry chests. “What do you think of Monteverdi?”
    “I don’t have any opinion, I’m afraid.”
    “We have to further your education then.” He placed some Monteverdi on the stereo. “The forerunner of opera,” he declared.
    Harry wouldn’t know; Monteverdi wasn’t what he did for fun, but he registered the name. No fact was without its use—eventually. “I’m surprised you didn’t know about my situation, it was in the papers this morning.”
    “Never read the papers,” Keepnews said. “San Francisco papers are shit. All papers are shit. But the San Francisco papers are especially shit. So you’ll take the assignment?”
    The transition was so abrupt that for a moment Harry couldn’t figure what he was referring to. “About your boat you mean?”
    “That’s right. What do you say?”
    “You haven’t told me exactly what you’d like done.”
    “Well, check it out for one. Study the photos I just gave you, read the specifications, go down to the Marina Yacht Harbor, there’s a yacht there, called The Sojourner now. Not a bad name even if they are pirates that took it. I want you to scavenge around a little, get some good hard evidence I can use.”
    “Evidence that The Sojourner and the Hyacinth are one and the same?”
    “Now you’re talking!”
    “One issue we haven’t talked about.”
    “Money?”
    “That’s right.”
    “How’d I guess? What do you have in mind?”
    Harry told him. “And funeral expenses if necessary.”
    “Deal. But funeral expenses?”
    “Like to have all possibilities covered. But don’t worry about flowers. I don’t think I’d like flowers at my funeral.”
    “Oh no? And why is that, Harry?”
    “I’m allergic to them.”
    Keepnews liked that and laughed heartily.
    His wife heard them and came into the living room. She wanted to know what they found so humorous.
    “Harry is a very funny man,” Keepnews told her.
    “That was the feeling I always got,” said Wendy, giving Harry a conspiratorial wink he couldn’t divine the meaning of.
    Wendy escorted him off the grounds.
    “When will we be seeing you again?”
    “Depends on what I find out tonight. Could be tomorrow morning.”
    “That would be lovely.” She was wearing a robe now over the bikini. It was easier to look at her without staring—but not much. They approached Harry’s car. It needed a wash and a paint job badly. Harry kept meaning to get around to it, but there never seemed to be enough time. Until now. Just as he was about to get into it she stepped closer to him. She had that imploring expression people get on their faces when they want desperately to say something to you, but don’t know just how to go about it. She struggled and at last found a way. “Did Harold tell you we’re getting a divorce?”
    The way she said this was so offhanded that Harry thought that he’d misheard her.
    “Are you surprised?”
    “Well, yes, I think I am.” He gazed out at the rambling mansion up the hill. It was gleaming white in the sun, a splendid spectacle that celebrated the mating of money, architecture, and cultivated taste. Divorce was something that didn’t seem to belong to a house like this; only what was beautiful and immortal should live there.
    “Harold has been very nice about the whole thing. He doesn’t want the divorce. We’ve talked about it endlessly. But we both agree it’s probably the best thing.”
    “Mind me asking one question?”
    She shrugged. “Sure, go ahead.”
    “Most couples, they’re getting a divorce, they don’t keep living together.”
    “We’re not your usual couple. The house is big enough for the two of us. We never have to see each other if we don’t want to. We haven’t slept together for six months.” She fixed her