Part-Time Deadly

By Robert Grisham

What if you could part time to step into another era? If you knew deception, extortion, and murder await, would you go? Follow Robert Grisham's humorous tale of smart-mouthed Killian McCarthy's arrival from a post-apocalyptic future to the present. Is his girlfriend, Tiago Martim, whose smile can turn a man to putty, really an asset? Bright, confident, and sexy, Tia joins him and his partner, Badger Ainsley, in following some dubious leads. No one is as they appear. Supposed allies are big question marks. And the more they dig, the more they're drawn into danger. A murder implicating Tia complicates their search and strains their relationship. Despite that, can they slog their way to the truth? If they can untwist the tangle of lies, what will they find? Will McCarthy regret what he discovers? Chasing excitement leads them to a side of town where murder hides in the shadows. He'll have to decide what's most important to him. An easy task? Depends. Does a night of passion await... or a shallow grave?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Feb 16, 2014
• ISBN: 9781312020276

Book preview

Part-Time Deadly

Part Time Deadly

Robert Grisham / Author

Part Time Deadly Copyright 2013 Robert Grisham

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Printed in the United States of America.

ISBN: 978-1-312-02027-6

The Call

Run swift to hazard’s hold,

Race, my watchmen and champions bold;

In this war between doves and snakes,

Cunning and courage the winner makes.

Time is stubborn, days are short.

New game, new rules, a contact sport.

For God, for Country, for flag, for fame,

The fight is yours, no other to blame.

Though to all good things there comes an end.

Fight on! Come evil’s day, do not bend.

So contend with honor, lest someone observe,

In the hour of need, you’ve lost your nerve,

There is time to falter, stumble, and fall,

And time, oh watchman, to rise to the call.

So rise.

One

The first time Killian McCarthy encountered Bobby Gentry, he drove a knife through the man’s hand to pin him to a wall.

The last time McCarthy saw him, ended with Ian’s girlfriend in cuffs, hauled off to jail for slicing Gentry’s throat open from ear to ear. This isn’t to say Gentry didn’t deserve either event. He was a punk with a lot of stupid rattling around between his ears. To many folk, it was a wonder he made it to adulthood. This troubled relationship between the two men started over the treatment of an old boozer named Diniz Claudio who had passed out cold in a dead end alley.

***

Exasperated, Tiago considered her cell phone with disgust then hung up on the police. With gritted teeth, she turned to her father. They aren’t coming. I’m going over there.

Guálter slammed his cleaver into the cut board next to his chicken. And what are you to doing? he said in broken English. You are only girl. Bad mans is for to hurting you. I’m say no! You are stay here!

Tiago scowled at him, yanked her apron off, and headed out the back door into the alley. The gang had gathered across the street at the mouth of the other.

***

Diniz awoke to warm water streaming over his face. He coughed and gagged and shook himself awake, then sat up to find Bobby Gentry standing over him only now zipping up.

The others standing there laughed as if old Diniz deserved what he got. Diniz himself couldn’t disagree. He was a miserable soul in a miserable place leading a miserable life.

But what was he to Gentry? Did the boy see himself in the old man? Or perhaps he saw his father in the old drunk. While he lived, old Robert Sr. had bequeathed nothing to his family but heartache, bruises, and broken bones.

Now, his legacy, a son who led a gang of hoodlums, terrorized an otherwise peaceful neighborhood. Did that make him feel important? His boys, twelve or so young thugs, took pleasure in kicking over trashcans, breaking streetlamps, spraying graffiti on everything within reach, and causing general mayhem wherever they went.

Every now and again, to counter that, some soft spoken visionary with a badge would step in to make a difference in the boys’ lives. Bobby Gentry had other ideas.

Wakey wakey, old man! Bobby cooed softly.

Diniz looked up into the handsome face of the early twenty-ish man-child. The boyish innocence of his smile barely hid the malevolence behind it.

Dinney, old boy, you’re sleeping in my street again. You know what I told you about doing that.

I was drunk, boss. Sometimes old Diniz doesn’t know where he is. I didn’t mean nothing.

Bobby cheeks rose to a toothy grin. You come into a man’s home and just lie down wherever?

Bobby Gentry! Tiago shouted as she crossed the street. You leave that man alone!

He glanced at her then back at his boys. The guy lies down in my toilet that I can’t use it without waking him. And you make out like I’m the bad guy here.

The boys snickered, and Bobby turned back to Diniz.

Though some tried to block her, Tiago pushed her way into the throng.

No, man, Bobby said softly. There’s a price to pay. You know that. If I let it go, it’ll set a bad precedent. You don’t want me to set a bad precedent do you? What would people think?

Despite her struggling, a couple of the young men held Tiago from getting closer.

No, boss, Diniz said, I’ll be careful next time. I won’t get so drunk I don’t know where I am. Please.

Bobby pulled out his large, German switchblade and triggered it. Diniz recognized the blade he had traded a year ago for a half bottle of whiskey, and only now remembered who he had traded it to. The dull colored, dark grey knife was suddenly there. It was long and, when it touched Diniz’s cheek, razor sharp.

Gentry! Tiago shouted. Stop!

What will it be today, Dinney, old boy: Pincushion Charlie or Pick-a-finger?

Pincushion Charlie, a young voice said, and each boy pulled out his own knife; some worth owning, others little more than sharpened scraps of metal with grips of wrapped cloth.

Yah, a few others agreed.

Diniz Claudio raised his hands and backed away from the blade toward the alley’s exit, toward the street. He winced when a couple sharp points pricked his back. Pincushion Charlie, they started to chant. Sharp points pierced his shirt and cut his skin.

Oh, I don’t know, Bobby said. I kind of wanted to get a finger.

What! said Tiago. Are you crazy?

Bobby looked at her. You know? To make into a keychain. My uncle has a rabbit’s foot. A human finger would be far more awesome. Don’t you agree?

No, boss, Diniz pleaded. I won’t do it again, honest.

Yah, but… Bobby said. I kinda like your getting in my way. Gives me something to do on these lazy Saturdays. Then, as if he had a new idea, Bobby’s brows raised. I know, I’ll take your finger, but only down to the first knuckle. You pick which one. After that, my boys’ll play pincushion with you. Everybody wins, right?

You’re sick! Tiago spat.

Bobby shot her an amused grin. Wait your turn, girlfriend. I’ll get to you soon enough.

Trembling and trapped with nowhere to turn, Diniz Claudio fell to his knees and started to sob.

A couple of the boys grabbed Diniz and yanked him to his feet.

Gentry took hold of his trembling hand, nearly breaking fingers to unclench the old man’s fist. Don’t fight it, Dinney. It’ll only make it worse. You want a clean cut, don’t you? If you struggle, it’ll be all raggedy.

NO! he and Tiago shouted simultaneously.

The blade started to cut into his little finger at the first knuckle. The old man’s scream was cut short by a dirty hand clamped over his mouth. He bit. The hand jerked away.

No, boss. Please, I…

Bobby, knock it off! Tiago ordered.

Gentry looked at her and his brows leveled menacingly. I said, wait your turn. I will get to you.

You were a punk in high school, Bobby, and you haven’t changed a bit.

He smiled. First things first, girlfriend. Piece of him now, a piece of you after. After that, my boys’ll form a line.

Let go my Tiago! Guálter shouted. In his bloody apron, he started across the street with his cleaver in hand.

One of the boys who held Tiago put a knife to her throat. Stop right there, old man.

Half way across the street, wide-eyed Guálter stopped his angry advance. At that distance, his mean clever was worthless.

Two

Diniz Claudio turned to Bobby when the knife started to cut into his finger. Behind him, at the back end of the alley, a billowing cloud bloomed suddenly. He blinked at the ground level thunderhead coming toward them. Within the heaving smoke, silent lightning flashed and multicolored fire throbbed and undulating. Mouth agape, Diniz stared at the spectacle in disbelief. Then, as quickly as it had come, the cloud suddenly receded as if sucked back into the wall, depositing two men in its place.

At first, Diniz thought they were angels come to save him. He shook his head and blinked again. On second thought, they looked like asylum-seeking refugees fresh off the boat from hell. Each, with a rucksack slung over his shoulder, carried a suitcase as weathered and tattered as its owner. They looked around to consider their surroundings until their eyes fell on Diniz and the punks hurting him.

Diniz didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was this the booze or his desperation making him see things? He shook his head and blinked again, but the men remained. One, the taller of the two, smiled at him, and Diniz felt hope rise.

Bobby didn’t release his hand, but turned to see what had suddenly captured Diniz’s attention, as did the other boys.

Where did they come from? one boy said.

Comic Con, said another, trying to be funny. Look at him. That’s Booker Dewitt from Bioshock Infinite.

Comic Con is next month, stupid countered the first.

Nice getups though, another boy said.

The others sniggered.

Bioshock? said one of the younger boys. No way. He’s Sebastian Castellanos from ‘The Evil Within’.

Shuddup! Gentry said as the two men approached. They’re just two more bums looking to get whizzed on.

The newcomers exchanged looks. You looking to get sozzled, Badger? said the taller of the two.

Not me, Ian, said the blond. Sounds like foolish talk from an idiot child.

Gentry grinned. And this from two retards who just stepped out of a video game. Aren’t you a little old to be playing dress up?

Diniz didn’t care who they were, as long as they didn’t walk past unconcerned. They looked to be near Bobby’s age, just not as juvenile.

Without taking his eyes from the newcomers, Gentry yanked his knife.

Off came Diniz’s finger tip. The old man screamed and jerked free to grip his now bloody nub. Blood began to dribble down his hand and wrist into his sleeve.

Bobby tossed the finger at the taller of the two, the one the blond called ‘Ian.’ It hit his vest and fell to his feet.

Ian threw Bobby a puzzled look that quickly turned to perplexed disapproval. Your first impression leaves me doubting you’ll survive the year.

Despite his pain and blood, Diniz considered the encounter. The newcomers were involved with his situation now, Bobby had seen to that. His not-so-veiled threat had crossed a line that didn’t get the desired response from this Ian fella.

Oh, not good, Badger said with a grave face. His concern seemed more for Gentry than for his friend.

Tough guy Bobby Gentry had a rep to maintain and he wasn’t about to lose it to street bums.

No, Ian said, setting down his suitcase and rucksack. That wasn’t very bright at all.

Gentry looked back to see if his posse was with him. They were. Tiago though, the look in her eye, one of mystified admiration, said she saw something in the newcomers Bobby longed for himself.

A few of the older boys stepped forward to stand with Bobby, and to block any escape either man might want. It was then that the second newcomer set down his pack and case. Like the first, his movements were smooth, paced, and deliberate.

Look here, Booker, Bobby said to the taller of the two who was now stepping forward. Each footfall brings you that much closer to a world of pain.

With a thin smile, Ian didn’t slow his determined stride.

Considering the approaching man’s clothes, one boy had to ask, Think he knows about Bioshock Infinite?

I don’t know, said another. Let’s find out. Hey, guy, it’s a video game. You know it?

Ian ignored him.

No? Never mind.

As the man stepped forward, he measured each boy critically, then looked past Bobby to Diniz. You okay, old man?

Still clutching his bloody hand, Diniz nervously glanced at the knife wielding boys.

Left-handedly, Bobby raised his blade but kept his grip loose and casual as he twirled it threateningly toward Ian. Welcome to the bad side of town, he said with a smirk.

South paw, huh? You know how to use your right?

No, Bobby sneered, then laughed as if that simple, single, one syllable word was wrapped in brilliance.

The stranger snatched his knife and drove it into the brick wall, pinning Bobby’s hand in the process. Too bad.

Stunned by his own knife locking him to the brick, Bobby’s scream came almost as an afterthought.

His crew, caught off guard, hesitated, then dove at the newcomer, stabbing and slashing with their knives.

Ian batted away each attempt or turned it back on the young attacker. Though he fought expertly, too many had come at him to fend off every one. The fight ended at the sound of a gun cocking.

The second man, the one called Badger, had turned a rifle on the boys. Anyone want to play a real life version of Bioshock? Keep up acting like zombie retards.

Wide-eyed and uncertain, the boys stopped, then backed away to leave Bobby alone with the gunman.

Bobby Gentry, now audibly bawling, clutched the knife’s handle, but couldn’t free himself without causing his hand even more damage.

Ian turned to Bobby. That’s when Diniz noticed the shank buried in his side. Without a tear, Ian pulled the short homemade dagger slowly from his own flesh. Despite what had to have been excruciating pain, he acted as if his getting stabbed was nothing new, and tossed the crude metal, bloody as it was, aside like only so much trash. Then he did something strange. He gave Gentry’s face a friendly pat as if they were old buddies.

Confused and in pain, Bobby didn’t know what to think.

Ian then gripped the handle of the knife that held Bobby to the wall. Oh, yah, that’s in there good. You better brace yourself. But before Bobby could, Ian snapped the hilt from the blade, and tossed it over his shoulder.

Bobby yelped, then clenched his teeth to keep from screaming.

There you go, Ian said as if his work was done.

I’m still pinned, man!

You can either pull yourself free, boy, or rot right where you stand. It’s up to you.

It hurts, man.

It hurts? Really? Ian raised an indifferent grin. And what you do to others does doesn’t?

Gentry looked at old man Claudio who was still clutching his severed finger. He didn’t meet Ian’s eyes, and to Diniz, that was a curious thing. Big, brave, Bobby Gentry had up until then terrorized everyone, strutting around with his chest puffed out like he owned the world. He did, Diniz supposed, until Ian showed up. Now he just looked like a little boy who got caught kicking kittens.

Ian took hold of Gentry’s shirt. "I want you to understand something. Let me be