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Cold HarborThe war ended in September. Marcus Kane got off the train in Chicago in October, carrying a duffel bag that weighed less than he expected and a file folder that weighed more than he deserved. The folder contained names. Not enemy combatants or prisoners of war—American names. Police captains. Aldermen. A judge. Men who wore suits and sat in offices and smiled at photographs with their families,...0 Comments 0 Shares 14 Views 0 Reviews
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Cold HarborThe ledger was black. Not the metaphorical black of a bad reputation or a tainted name but the literal black of a leather binding that had been handled by too many greasy fingers and stored in too many damp places. It sat on Tommy Varga's kitchen table in his apartment above the Golden Dragon Laundromat on East Broadway, and it was the most dangerous thing in Los Angeles. Tommy stared at it the...0 Comments 0 Shares 52 Views 0 Reviews
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Cold HarborThe body had been in the water for three days when Jack Harlow found out about it. Eddie Russo's wife came to his office on Sunset Boulevard on a Tuesday afternoon. The office was small—a desk, two chairs, a filing cabinet that stuck when you opened the bottom drawer, and a lightbulb above the door that had been flickering since Christmas and hadn't been fixed because Jack couldn't be...0 Comments 0 Shares 16 Views 0 Reviews
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Cold HarborThe rain in Los Angeles was a joke. It fell with the enthusiasm of a man who had been told to do something and was doing it grudgingly, hoping nobody would notice. It had been drizzling for three days, a steady, uninspired drizzle that made the neon signs bleed their colors into the wet asphalt and turned the city into a watercolor painting done by someone who had never seen Los Angeles but had...0 Comments 0 Shares 14 Views 0 Reviews
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Cold HarborThe phone rang at eleven forty-seven on a Thursday night. Jack Mulqueen was sitting in his office on Sunset Boulevard, drinking bourbon from a chipped coffee mug and staring at a half-empty bottle of something that cost less than five dollars and tasted like regret. He let it ring twice before picking up. "Mulqueen." "Mr. Mulqueen?" The voice on the other end was a woman's voice—calm, measured,...0 Comments 0 Shares 13 Views 0 Reviews
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Harbor UndercurrentsHarbor Undercurrents The rain started at midnight and did not stop for three days. It turned the streets of the waterfront into rivers of oil and garbage, and it turned the唐人街 into an island within an island, because the bridges that connected it to the rest of the city had been washed out by the storm drains that nobody had cleaned since 1932. I was in the warehouse when Old Shou died. Not...0 Comments 0 Shares 31 Views 0 Reviews
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Harbor WorkI. The alarm clock went off at six in the morning, as it had gone off for the previous six years, and Mike Harlay reached over and turned it off before it could make the second sound. He lay on his back in the dark for exactly three minutes—the three minutes he always lay on his back before getting up—and then got up and went to the kitchen and made coffee the same way he made coffee every...0 Comments 0 Shares 11 Views 0 Reviews
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Harbor WorkI. The alarm clock went off at six in the morning, as it had gone off for the previous six years, and Mike Harlay reached over and turned it off before it could make the second sound. He lay on his back in the dark for exactly three minutes—the three minutes he always lay on his back before getting up—and then got up and went to the kitchen and made coffee the same way he made coffee every...0 Comments 0 Shares 24 Views 0 Reviews
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Harbor WorkI. The alarm clock went off at six in the morning, as it had gone off for the previous six years, and Mike Harlay reached over and turned it off before it could make the second sound. He lay on his back in the dark for exactly three minutes—the three minutes he always lay on his back before getting up—and then got up and went to the kitchen and made coffee the same way he made coffee every...0 Comments 0 Shares 11 Views 0 Reviews
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Harbor WorkI. The alarm clock went off at six in the morning, as it had gone off for the previous six years, and Mike Harlay reached over and turned it off before it could make the second sound. He lay on his back in the dark for exactly three minutes—the three minutes he always lay on his back before getting up—and then got up and went to the kitchen and made coffee the same way he made coffee every...0 Comments 0 Shares 11 Views 0 Reviews
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Harbor WorkI. The alarm clock went off at six in the morning, as it had gone off for the previous six years, and Mike Harlay reached over and turned it off before it could make the second sound. He lay on his back in the dark for exactly three minutes—the three minutes he always lay on his back before getting up—and then got up and went to the kitchen and made coffee the same way he made coffee every...0 Comments 0 Shares 11 Views 0 Reviews
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The Gilded PierThe Gilded Pier The sea air in Portsworth had always tasted of rust and regret. I used to think it was the ironworks—three smoking stacks on the eastern ridge that painted the dawn in shades of bruised purple. But now I know better. The taste was mine all along, born of standing on that pier every evening watching for a ship that would never dock, knowing full well it should not have. I was a...0 Comments 0 Shares 5 Views 0 Reviews
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