“Only when the new books came in. And some of the magazines.”
“That was it,” said Giselle. “When I caught you reading and you got all flustered.”
“That was one time.”
“That’s not how it looked to me.”
“There weren’t a lot of choices in prison.”
“What was it?” said Morty. “Sports Illustrated? Is Coop a secret jock?”
“Penthouse? Hustler?” said Sally. “Playgirl?”
Dr. Lupinsky’s cat jumped.
Scientific American. Coop is a secret egghead like me.
“It’s none of that,” said Coop. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You’re right,” said Giselle. “It’s a private matter between Coop and People magazine.”
Coop shot her a look.
“Oops.”
The room went awkwardly quiet.
“Like I said. There wasn’t a lot of choice of reading material. After a while, things just became a habit.”
“You big sissy girl, you,” said Sally. “I should introduce you to my mom and the ladies in her choir.”
“Okay,” he said. “It’s not like I have a subscription.”
“No. It’s sicker than that. He sneaks off in the grocery store and reads it where he thinks I can’t see,” said Giselle.
“When did this become kick-Coop-while-he’s-down day?” he said. “I just saved the world, in case you forgot.”
“Old news,” said Morty.
“Yeah,” said Bayliss. “What have you done for us lately?”
Coop got up. “I’m getting the burgers before they get cold. Drinks are on the counter.” He looked at Dr. Lupinsky. “I feel kind of weird about eating in front of you, doc. Is there anything I can get you?”
No, thank you. I enjoy being around food and people eating. It reminds me of the old days.
“You know, we just saw a guy almost turn into a god,” said Giselle. “What happened to that book, Coop?”
“DOPS probably has it stashed someplace. Probably down in . . . what the hell is that place called?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” said Morty.
“I can almost see it,” said Bayliss.
“Whatever. It’s probably buried down there somewhere.”
“What about the cookbook? We could print out the photos and look,” said Giselle.
Coop looked at Dr. Lupinsky.
“You up for this? I make no promises, but maybe there’s something in the book that will get you out of that TV.”
I’m always ready for an adventure.
“The DOPS might be pissed.”
They’re always pissed about something.
“True. I guess I’m going to have two weeks with nothing to do. I’ll see if I can find anything.”
Thank you.
“Aren’t you going to get lonely with Giselle and everybody else at work all day?” said Bayliss.
Coop put his burger on the table. As he poured himself a shot of bourbon Giselle said, “He’s not going to be lonely at all.”
“Why’s that?” Coop said.
Something went meow in his ear.
He stared down at the table as Giselle set down a kitten.
“What is that?” he said.
“A cat,” said Giselle. “Felis catus.”
“Whose is it?”
“Guess.”
“Oh God.”
Giselle sat down next to him. “Poor boy. He’s having hamster flashbacks.”
The kitten had a dark nose, a light tan coat, and a gray tail.
“What kind is it?” he said.
“It’s a mutt, but I think there’s a little Siamese in there.”
“What’s it called?”
“That’s up to you,” said Giselle. “She doesn’t have a name yet.”
“You’re really putting the spurs to me, aren’t you?”
“I am. I totally am.”
The kitten came over to Coop’s hamburger and began gnawing at the paper wrapper until it got to the meat. When it did, it lay down on its belly and chewed on the burger contentedly.
After a minute Coop said, “Willy.”
“Willy is a boy’s name,” said Giselle.
“I knew a Willy for Wilhelmina,” said Sally.
“See? Willy is a girl’s name, too,” said Coop.
“But you’re not naming her for a girl, are you?”
Who are you naming her for?
“Willy Sutton, the bank robber, right?” said Giselle.
Coop nodded. “Absolutely.” He picked up the cat. It dropped a wad of meat on the floor. He set her down and gave the meat back to her. She ignored it and went back to digging through the wrapper to get to his burger.
“You’re Willy all right. A born thief if I ever saw one.”
About the Author
New York Times bestselling author Richard Kadrey has published eleven novels, including Sandman Slim, Kill the Dead, Aloha from Hell, Devil Said Bang, Kill City Blues, The Getaway God, Killing Pretty, Dead Set, Butcher Bird, and Metrophage, and more than fifty short stories. He has been immortalized as an action figure, and his novel Butcher Bird was nominated for the Prix Elbakin in France. The acclaimed writer and photographer lives in San Francisco, California.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Also by Richard Kadrey
The Everything Box
Metrophage
Dead Set
Sandman Slim Novels
Killing Pretty
The Getaway God
Kill City Blues
Devil Said Bang
Aloha From Hell
Kill the Dead
Sandman Slim
The Perdition Score
Copyright
Cover design and illustration by Owen Corrigan
Cover image © Shutterstock (textures)
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
THE WRONG DEAD GUY. Copyright © 2017 by Richard Kadrey. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers.
FIRST EDITION
Digital Edition FEBRUARY 2017 ISBN: 9780062389596
Print ISBN: 978-0-06-238957-2
About the Publisher
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United States
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Table of Contents
Title Page
Dedication
Epigraph
Contents
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About the Author
Also by Richard Kadrey
Copyright
About the Publisher
Richard Kadrey, The Wrong Dead Guy
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