Curse of the Jade Lily (Mac McKenzie #9)

Curse of the Jade Lily (Mac McKenzie #9) Page 26

“Where did you come from?” I asked. “Are you following me?”

“The company you keep, McKenzie, makes me wonder. I told Rask that I thought you had more to do with the theft of the Jade Lily than you let on, and here you are, breaking bread with one of the worst criminals in Minneapolis.”

“When you say worst, do you mean he doesn’t do it very well? Because I don’t think Mr. Coleman has ever been convicted of a crime.”

“He’s been into drugs, prostitution, gambling; he ran a shoplifting ring that had more customers than fucking Mall of America. I know for a fact that he’s been smuggling cigarettes into the state from Kentucky and North Carolina.”

“You should arrest him, then. Put his black ass in jail. If you can.”

“You don’t think he has it coming?”

“I know a lot of people who have it coming.” I reached across the table and caressed the material of his overcoat between my thumb and forefinger. “Cashmere?”

Noehring slapped my hand away. “Italian wool,” he said.

“Nice,” I said. “On a cop’s salary, too.”

“Don’t get sanctimonious with me, McKenzie. I know you. I know how you made your money. You arrested an embezzler. Instead of bringing him and the stolen money in like you were supposed to, you quit the St. Paul cops and negotiated a reward from the insurance company. You sold your badge.”

I didn’t see it that way, but I knew a lot of cops that did.

“Well, didn’t you?” Noehring asked.

“What do you want?” I asked in reply.

“How about a drink?”

Why not? my inner voice asked. I caught Emma’s eye and motioned her back to the table.

“I’d like another winter ale,” I told her. I gestured toward Noehring. He asked Emma to recite the restaurant’s Scotch list and settled on Glenlivet, double, neat. He smiled as if he expected both Emma and me to be impressed by his selection. It was the same smile that I had seen the night before, but in the harsh light of day it seemed worn-out from overuse. He kept smiling as he watched Emma walk to the bar.

“Nice ass,” he said.

The smile flickered slightly when I didn’t reply.

The drinks were served, and Noehring drank half of his in one swallow.

“That’s good Scotch,” he said.

“Finish it,” I said. “Have another.”

Noehring smiled some more. “One is fine,” he said. “I’m working.”

“For who exactly?”

Noehring leaned back in his chair and gave me a look as if I had insulted him and he was wondering what to do about it.

“I’ve been hearing things,” he said.

“What things?”

“I heard that you decided not to make the exchange for the Jade Lily. Something about being spooked from seeing Tarpley dead last night.”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Is it true?”

“Let’s just say that I was reminded that life is short, too short to live it like a character in an S. S. Van Dine novel.”

“Uh-huh. Well, I just want you to know you don’t have to worry about it. You don’t need to be afraid to retrieve the Lily.” Noehring tapped his chest. “I’ll protect your ass. Unofficially, of course.”

“That’s awfully considerate of you, Lieutenant.”

“I’m a considerate guy.”

I bet, my inner voice said.

“What would you ask in return for this service?” I asked.

“Ten percent of your end.”

“Twelve thousand seven hundred dollars?”

Noehring grinned. “That’s a little less than I figured,” he said.

“What would the Minneapolis Police Department say about the arrangement?”

“It doesn’t mind if we make a little on the side providing security. I know a lot of guys that work weddings.”

“Problem is, Lieutenant, if the artnappers spot you, they just might put a bullet in my head. Unofficially, of course.”

“Not if we put them down first.”

That made me sit back.

“Sounds to me like you have a plan,” I said.

“No plan. I just want to be there in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case,” Noehring repeated.

We spent a couple of seconds staring at each other. Finally I had to ask, “What exactly are you proposing?”

“Let’s say—we’re just talking here, right, McKenzie?”

“Just talking,” I said.

“Let’s say that after you deliver the money, the artnappers decide that you’re a loose end that they don’t need. A loose end the way Tarpley was a loose end. They decide to kill you. Except, at that precise moment, one of the thieves seizes the opportunity—there is no honor among thieves, is there? He decides to waste his partners instead and escape with all of the money, leaving you unharmed and in possession of the Lily. Hypothetically, of course.”

“Let me guess. The reason he leaves me unharmed amid all that carnage is so I can tell the police what happened.”

“Exactly.”

“And the money—”

“A million three—”

“What happens to the money?”

“Fifty-fifty split.”

“I have a question—where will you be when all this takes place?”