Back Deadlock
Chapters (64)
  1. Other Books by This Author
  2. Title Page
  3. Copyright
  4. Dedication
  5. Contents
  6. Chapter 1
  7. A Hero’s Death
  8. Chapter 2
  9. Love’s Labors Lost
  10. Chapter 3
  11. Reflections
  12. Chapter 4
  13. On the Waterfront
  14. Chapter 5
  15. A Glass in the Hand
  16. Chapter 6
  17. A Capital Ship
  18. Chapter 7
  19. Watchman, Tell Us of the Night
  20. Chapter 8
  21. Learning the Business
  22. Chapter 9
  23. Just Another Dead Black
  24. Chapter 10
  25. Down the Hatches
  26. Chapter 11
  27. Grounded
  28. Chapter 12
  29. Bedside Stories
  30. Chapter 13
  31. Sherry at Valhalla
  32. Chapter 14
  33. Potluck
  34. Chapter 15
  35. The Frozen North
  36. Chapter 16
  37. Stowaway
  38. Chapter 17
  39. Deadlock
  40. Chapter 18
  41. The Long Journey Home
  42. Chapter 19
  43. Pavane for a Dead Hockey Player
  44. Chapter 20
  45. Unloading
  46. Chapter 21
  47. Fishing Trip
  48. Chapter 22
  49. Nighttime Chiseler
  50. Chapter 23
  51. A House of Mourning
  52. Chapter 24
  53. A Question of Policy
  54. Chapter 25
  55. The Old Girl Network
  56. Chapter 26
  57. On the Tiles
  58. Chapter 27
  59. On Board the Dragon Ship
  60. Chapter 28
  61. The Fire Ship of Wodin
  62. Chapter 29
  63. The Long Good-bye
  64. Cover

By now she had ascertained my disheveled state. She hustled me into the bathroom and sat me in a steaming bath in her old-fashioned porcelain tub. She blew her nose briskly and went off to put a chicken on to simmer, then came back with two tumblers of my scotch. Lotty rarely drank—she was clearly deeply upset.

She perched on a three-legged stool while I soaked my sore shoulder and related the highlights of my adventures.

“I can’t believe Bledsoe hired Mattingly,” I concluded. “I just don’t believe my judgment of character can be so wrong. Bledsoe and his captain roused my hackles. But I liked them.” I went on to tell her the same thoughts that had tormented my four-hour ride in from the Soo. “I guess I’ll have to put my prejudices aside and look into Pole Star’s insurance arrangements and their general financial health.”

“Sleep on it,” Lotty advised. “You have a lot of different avenues to explore. In the morning one of them will look the most promising. Maybe Phillips. He has the most definite tie to Boom Boom, after all.”

Wrapped in a large terry-cloth robe, I sat with her in the kitchen eating the chicken and feeling comfort seep into the worn spots of my mind. After dinner Lotty rubbed Myoflex into my back and arms. She gave me a muscle relaxant and I fell into a deep, peppermint-scented sleep.

The phone dragged me out of the depths some ten hours later. Lotty came in and gently touched my arm. I opened bleary eyes.

“Phone’s for you, my dear. Janet somebody—used to be Boom Boom’s secretary.”

I shook my head groggily and sat up to take the phone by the guest bed.

Janet’s homey, middle-aged voice woke me up more thoroughly. She was upset. “Miss Warshawski, I’ve been fired. Mr. Phillips told me it was because they didn’t have enough for me to do, with Mr. Warshawski gone and all. But I think it’s because I was going through those files for you. I don’t think they would have fired me if I hadn’t done that. I mean, there was always enough work before—”

I cut into the repetitive flow. “When did this happen?”