In This Rain by S. J. Rozan Page A

type, by the way. A blonde shiksa. I could introduce you. Could mend your broken heart from that Eliot girl you used to date.”
    “I didn’t date her long enough to get one.”
    “Hey, come to think of it, they know each other. You could date Montgomery, keep an eye on her, piss Jen Eliot off at the same time— ”
    “I already pissed Jen off when I broke up with her, Charlie. She forgave me, though, as soon as she found a new guy. So Montgomery: do we have to worry about her?”
    Charlie pondered. “Maybe not.”
    “You said she was a showboater.”
    “What it really is with her
    If you sing louder than everyone else, your voice’ll get heard. It may not be because you want to drown everyone out, just that you like to sing loud. Jesus Christ, Don, you’re actually smiling.”
    “I never heard you do that before. A metaphor like that.”
    “I’m a man of undiscovered talents. Pass me the phone.”

CHAPTER
20
    Harlem: the Riverbank
    “The job,” the Boss said. “It went all right?”
    “Ain’t no thing.” Kong squinted against the sun-gleam on the river.
    “Glad to hear it.” The Boss smiled. Guy could always be counted on for a smile. Kong smiled back. Wasn’t that something was funny, but he had a secret: he knew who this guy was. “Just call me Boss,” guy said on the phone, first time he called. Seriously? Fuck that shit. Kong wasn’t about to work for no man he didn’t even know his name. When they met first time, Kong had the bike hid. Easy to follow the Boss’s car: ain’t no one in New York gonna notice some crazy bike messenger. Kong watched the car slide down into a garage, saw the Boss come out, watched what building he went in. Then all he had to do was wait until lunchtime next day, and here come the Boss, going to some important appointment for lunch. Kong got next to a few pretty things coming out to sit in the sun. “Hey, baby, ’scuse me. Don’t mean to bother you. That dude over there, I used to work for him. Can’t recall his name, you know who it is?” Got the guy’s name, and the cell phone digits of two hot bitches, too. That was the difference between him and that loser, T. D. Tilden. T. D. never even ask Kong who they working for, why they doing all this. Just took his pay and rolled a blunt, every time. Kong, he was different: he got game.
    Not that he was about to let on what he knew, not yet. Just, someday when he needed it, there it’d be.
    “You do good work,” the Boss said. He was wearing Ray-Bans but Kong could tell his eyes were jumping around like he was nervous.
    “Hey, chill, man. You see anyone else here?” Of course he didn’t. Even the old guy sometimes fished from the broken concrete wasn’t there today. He never came on Sundays, that guy. The Boss told him, As soon as it’s done, somewhere no one’s gonna see us, and Kong knew what he was doing when he picked this place. That’s what this guy didn’t appreciate about him, the way he knew what he was doing.
    “Well,” the Boss started, but now was time for Kong to say his other piece.
    “Was one thing, though.”
    “What thing?” The Boss pushed his hands deeper into his jacket pockets like some worried kid at school. Well, good. More worried he was, more likely to keep Kong on the payroll.
    “Thought you ought to know,” Kong said. “T.D. say he got copies.”
    “Copies? Of what?”
    Kong grinned. Of course, he could have said what the copies was of, right off, but he wanted to make the guy ask.
    “The drawing you give me. For the first job? What to take out from where? Of the— ”
    “Shit. The kid made copies?”
    “Don’t know if it’s true. T.D. say so.”
    “Did T.D. say where they are?”
    “Nah.”
    “Do you have any idea?”
    “Maybe. I been checking on it for you, already. Got someone to see, later on.”
    “Do you? Where?”
    “What you care? You gonna walk up and ring the doorbell, ask for ’em? You want ’em, you gonna need me to get ’em for you.”
    “You may not be the best man for the job. Not so soon after this.”
    “Then I do it