Tek Kill by William Shatner Page B

“Don’t let them impolite bimbos a-rile ya, pardner,” he drawled. “What kin I do ya fer?”
    â€œIs the lady of the house in?” Gomez scratched at his frizzy purple wig.
    The golden-haired blond doll suggested, “Why don’t you take a hike, Zeke?”
    â€œYeah,” seconded the rag doll, thumbing her nose in a floppy manner, “hit the road, bozo.”
    â€œLittle dears, for shame.” A fat silver-haired woman in a flowered tent dress had come jiggling out of the back office of the toy shop. “Is this any way to treat a respected customer?”
    â€œThis doink’s not a paying customer, Corky,” said the rag doll disdainfully. “He’s just a schlep of a salesman.”
    Clearing his throat, Gomez said, “ Chiquita , I have to communicate with you, muy pronto . For the usual fee, be it understood.”
    Blinking, Corky Keepnews took a jiggling step back. “Holy crow, is that you, Gomez honey?”
    â€œ Sí , but cleverly disguised so as not to tip off the opposition.”
    â€œWow, it’s not especially safe for you to be seen in the open.”
    â€œHence the mummery, bonita. ” He went flat-footing after her into her office.
    Bidding the door to shut, Corky seated herself in an ample armchair. “I can’t chat with you for more than five minutes, hon,” she warned him.
    From the one narrow viewindow you could see part of University of SoCal Campus 26, where either a riot or a rally was in progress in the Glade. “Why, in this instance, do I find myself on the shit list?” Gomez inquired. “Any hints?”
    Corky narrowed her left eye and scrutinized the pale pink ceiling above her. “Somebody powerful is annoyed with you.”
    â€œDetails?”
    â€œI hear Teklords. One Teklord actually.”
    â€œWho?” He sat on the edge of the armchair opposite her and made a give-me-more-details motion with both yellow-gloved hands.
    When Corky shook her head, her silver-blond hair flickered and danced. “I’ve got no details, Gomez. Don’t, if you want the absolute truth, want any more than I got. But it’s a very powerful gent.”
    â€œThere are any number of Tek industrialists who fit that description. Can you zero in some, Cork?”
    â€œWest Coast, probably. As close as I can get, honey.”
    â€œHas it got to do with the Dwight Grossman kill?”
    Giving the pink ceiling her attention again, the information dealer answered, “So they say.”
    â€œHow the devil was Grossman connected to the Tek trade, Corky?”
    â€œThat I have no idea about.” She lowered her husky voice. “Way I hear it, this poor sappo Grossman found out something he really wasn’t supposed to know.”
    â€œAnd they want to eradicate me before I find out the same darn thing?”
    â€œIt’s not certain, sweet, that they want you completely and totally dead,” she informed him. “Might be they just mean to incapacitate you for a good while.”
    Gomez stroked his clown nose. “What about the Bascom frame-up?”
    â€œSame bunch is behind that.”
    â€œI’m trying to find out who faked the security camera tapes,” he told her. “But my usual experts at providing that sort of information have been alerted to booby-trap, sabotage, and otherwise futz me up. Who else besides the usual gang can I get what I need from?”
    Corky’s voice dropped even lower. “You might try a guy who does business as Einstein, Inc. Out in the Woodland Hills Sector of Greater LA.”
    â€œNever heard of the hombre .”
    â€œNeither have the Teklords. Yet,” Corky said. “You better talk to him before they get wind.”
    Rising, Gomez said, “ Gracias , dear lady. How much do I owe you?”
    â€œOn the house, honey,” she told him.
    â€œ ¿Por que? ”
    â€œA going-away present.”
    â€œI’m