Read an Excerpt
Trader of Secrets
A Paul Madriani Novel
By Steve Martini
William Morrow
Copyright © 2011 Steve Martini
All right reserved.
ISBN: 9780061930232
Chapter One
Most of the blood left on the concrete floor of the garage in
Washington belonged to the big black investigator working
for Madriani, the man named Herman Diggs, but not
all of it.
Liquida could feel the tight constraint of the large gauze
bandage covering the searing wound under his right arm. Every
bump in the highway brought pain as the motion tugged on the
metal staples holding the wound closed. It made his eyes water.
Still, the pain kept him awake and on course.
What kept Liquida going was his hatred for Madriani and an
unquenchable thirst for retribution. The firm of Madriani and
Hinds had caused him to lose a small fortune, enough money for
Liquida to retire. That was before the lawyers' investigator carved
up Liquida's back with a knife, but not before Liquida had dealt the
man a deathblow. As the bastard lay dying on the concrete floor,
Liquida twisted the knife by telling him that he knew where the
girl was and that she was next. Now he intended to make good on
the promise.
His right arm hung limp in a sling as he steered with his left
hand. Liquida struggled to keep his eyes on the road, periodically
holding the wheel with his knees as he sipped fluids, alternating
between coffee and orange juice. He refused to consume the pain
pills given to him by the physician for fear they might dull his
senses; not until the girl was dead.
The doctor had told him to change the bandages daily and to
remain quiet for at least a week to allow the stapled sutures to heal.
The all-night clinic was a seedy place in a dingy area just outside
D.C., one of those surgi-centers where, for enough cash, usually
they would remove a bullet or stitch up an open wound, no questions
asked. Liquida was in and out in less than an hour.
He had no intention of remaining quiet for ten days. Madriani's
daughter would not wait that long on the farm in Ohio. Once she
was told what had happened in Washington, she would bolt for
another location to hide out, or join her father. Either way it would
be much more difficult to find her again. Liquida knew he had to
act and act quickly. Before he murdered Madriani, he wanted the
lawyer to know that his daughter had died under Liquida's knife.
He made the four hundred miles from D.C. to Groveport, Ohio,
in a little under eight hours. Liquida napped just briefly in a small
motel a short distance from the farm where the girl was staying. He
knew that with every minute that passed he ran the risk that Sarah
Madriani and her father's law partner, the one they called Harry
Hinds, might pack their bags and make a run for it. But Liquida had
no choice. He was in no condition to plan and carry out a killing
against a well-guarded location without at least a few hours' rest.
He changed the bandage on his wound. It was a painful
exercise, twisting around and using his one good arm, trying not to
pull the sutures or tear the skin around the wound as he wrestled
with the tape. He set an alarm for two hours and collapsed onto
the bed to sleep.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Trader of Secrets by Steve Martini Copyright © 2011 by Steve Martini. Excerpted by permission of William Morrow. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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