company's own profits?
Sutter folded the contract and placed it on the desk in front of him. He shook a cigarette out and lit it, holding the cigarette between his teeth as he stared at the paper.
"You got to remember, darling, people in this world will stab you in the back first chance they get. That's why you got to stab them first. ..."
Sutter could hear noise down the hallway, someone in the kitchen. There was the sound of a cupboard opening, then water running in the sink. Christ, Candy was up already. He wondered if he should jam all the papers back into the safe. Then figured, naw, what the hell, he had to handle Candy sooner or later.
But he wanted to keep this contract, keep it until he figured out just exactly what it meant. Then maybe he'd give Senator Griffin a call, say something like, "Hey, Robert, you remember that flunky you met at the party 'bout a year ago? Turns out I'm your new partner." Really shit all over the guy. a fucking state senator.
Sutter took the contract and folded it into one of the big pockets of his safari jacket, right there with all the cash, thinking. Little golden egg...
Candy Rios stood in the doorway, pale eyes darting back and forth, taking in the open safe, all the scattered papers, and said. "You're not robbing me. Karl, are you?" Standing there with both hands holding the pink houseeoat tightly at the neck, looking at him, then looking away when he tried to meet her eyes.
"You awake already. Candy? I was hoping you could get some rest. Maybe those pills I got from the doctor aren't any good."
Candy said. "You shouldn't be in here. Marv's attorney said I shouldn't let anyone touch anything till he gets here tomorrow for the funeral. He said the police are going to want to interview me, and everything in the house should be just the way it was.'' She stood there, not looking at him, a tiny little woman with bleached hair and a voice like a bird, so beaten down and nervous after living with Marvin that she was like one of those frightened animals in the cartoons, a chipmunk, maybe. She said, "I have to ask you to leave, Karl."
Speaking softly. Sutter said, "Anything you say. Candy, but I'm just trying to do what's best for you. That's why I've been kinda taking care of the marina for you, that's why I went to the doctor so you wouldn't have to. That's what I'm doing here, going through all these papers. Here, look for yourself," and he held up the notebook on which he had logged the various bonds and deeds. She took a few steps closer, squinting to read, as he said, "I was kind of Marvin's right-hand man, you know. That's how I know Marvin might have some stuff locked away he wouldn't even want his attorney to see; stuff the IRS can get their hands on and make all kinds of trouble."
Candy said, "Oh? Oh dear."
He held the notebook out farther so she could take it. "Check it yourself," he said. "Everything listed you'll find right here on this desk. I swear to God. All yours. But I know Marv woulda wanted me to kind of help him out here; make sure what the government was going to get a look at. Marv and me was what you'd call pretty close, you know. That's why Judy and me came down here. Hell, he's the one gave me the combination to the safe, just in case." Candy placed the notebook back on the desk, sighing, still holding the houseeoat at the neck. "All he told me was that it was because you owed him some money. And then I saw you in here, and ... well, I hope you don't think I'm accusing you of anything, Karl. I'm just upset."
Sutter allowed himself a gentle chuckle. "I paid Marv that money a year ago. Got the receipt back at my place if you want to see it—"
"No, I trust you—"
"I know you do, it's just you're upset because you're all worn out. Damn it, those pills shoulda helped!"
The woman jumped slightly when he raised his voice— plain-faced little woman, but with nice high cheeks, so she might have been pretty before age caused the skin to go loose. Or maybe
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