The Magic Bullet

by Andrew Neiderman

  “What is it? You’re frightening me,” Lois said when they both were in her car.

  “Just let me catch my breath,” Demi replied. She took some deep breaths and nodded. “Okay, okay. That doctor from Los Angeles came to the salon a few hours ago.”

  “Parker?”

  “Yes. He said he came to warn me that we were in danger. I thought he looked out of his mind. He really frightened me, Lois, and with Kiki whining and moaning about my leaving my customer, it was all just too much. He continued to sit out here for quite a while afterward. He looked like he was crying. The whole thing shook me up.”

  “Crying? I don’t understand. How could you be in danger? What did he say?”

  “You know who Frank Vico is?”

  “No.”

  “He has a bowling alley and restaurant outside of town. Working in a salon, you hear all the gossip and dirt,” Demi continued. “Vico’s a member of some mob family. A drug pusher.”

  “So? How does that involve you or Taylor?”

  “He has cancer, lung cancer.”

  “Oh? Oh…” Lois added as it all came to her quickly. “He wants you to get Taylor’s blood for him for a transfusion. But Jodi’s cancer was different…”

  “He saw this Doctor Parker give Taylor’s white blood cells to another patient, a man with lung cancer.”

  “And? It cured him?”

  “Apparently so. Mr. Vico tried to find out what was going on, but no one knew anything, so he checked himself out of the hospital and visited your doctor and Doctor Parker. He threatened them. If they didn’t give him the same miraculous treatment, he said he would hurt them.”

  “So he still doesn’t know what it was?”

  “No.”

  “So that’s why Doctor Weber was so adamant about Ralph and me not saying anything to anyone. We haven’t because we didn’t know how to explain it either.”

  “I know, but Warren told some people, a quack doctor out in Indio. Maybe others. I’m not sure. I couldn’t swear to anything he says or does these days.”

  “Oh, I see. He was acting rather belligerent the other night. I meant to talk to you about it, Demi.”

  “Forget about my relationship with him for now. When Doctor Parker returned to ask for more of Taylor’s blood, Warren got him to offer twenty thousand.”

  “Dollars! Wow.”

  “I wouldn’t let Taylor do it for just this reason.”

  “Just?”

  “This situation,” Demi said, impatient.

  “Right, right. Sorry,” Lois said, but Demi could see that her sister still hadn’t grasped the significance of all this.

  “Doctor Parker told me he had already visited Warren at the house and told him everything. Warren was supposed to call me and deliver the information, the warnings.”

  “But he never did?”

  “No, and he doesn’t answer at home or his cell phone. We had a big fight about it all. Actually, I am on the verge of asking him To move out. I think he knows that.”

  “Does Taylor know any of this? I mean about this man wanting his blood?”

  “No, not yet.”

  “Well…Taylor…”

  “Yes,” Demi said, getting a stronger grip on herself, “exactly. Where is he?”

  “Maybe he stayed after school for something.”

  “He wouldn’t do that without calling me.”

  “He could be with a girl and be embarrassed to call his mother.”

  “No. Being with a girl wouldn’t stop him. He’s funny, keeps to himself a lot, whatever, but he’s very responsible when it comes to these things. I’ve never had to remind him or ask him twice to do anything.”

  “Did you call the house?”

  “Right after you phoned. No one picked up.”

  “Call now. We’ll take a ride back toward the school. Maybe he left later than you think and he’s walking right now.”

  Demi nodded and did so. She shook her head after the fourth ring when the answering machine picked up. Then she tried to call Warren again.

  “Why isn’t he answering? He wasn’t working today,” she muttered.

  Lois drove slowly, so slowly she annoyed drivers behind her, who sounded their horns and rushed past. When they reached the school, Demi told her to drive into the parking lot.

  “You going in to see if he’s there?”

  “I guess,” Demi said. “What else can I do?”

  “I’ll go with you,” Lois told her. “Calm down. I’m sure it will turn out to be nothing.”

  Demi paused.

  Those were almost the exact words she recalled using when Lois first brought Jodi to the doctor.

  “Now here’s the deal,” Warren said. “We’re not talking about only ten thousand, twenty thousand, even only thirty thousand dollars. I’m talking close to sixty thousand dollars. That would be one helluva nice gift to present to your mother, wouldn’t it? She’s lucky to clear thirty-five thousand working in the salon for a year.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Warren. Where are we?” Taylor asked after Warren came to a stop in front of a gated house.

  He saw Tony come out of Frankie’s house and start toward the gate.

  Warren turned. “Look, here’s the deal. You just go in there with me and promise this guy you’ll give him some blood. When you do, he hands over close to sixty thousand dollars in cash. We can get your mother out of that parlor of ugly women where she works, take her on a fine vacation, buy some nice things for the house, put a chunk away for you college education…”

  “I’ve got my college education fund from my father’s estate,” Taylor said.

  “Hey, costs keep going up. Your mom’s worrying about it, believe me. She don’t tell you everything, Taylor.”

  “And what will you get out of it?”

  “I’m part of the family, ain’t I? I’ll enjoy what you enjoy. Nothing more.”

  Taylor smirked.

  Tony opened the gate and stood with his hands on his wide hips.

  “Who is this? Who lives here?”

  “That’s not him. That’s one of his employees. He’s an important businessman with lots of money. It won’t mean anything to him to give us that much money, and you’ll be saving his life maybe. So you can be more of a little hero. C’mon,” Warren said and opened his door.

  “I thought you said just promise him the blood.”

  “Promise and give it. He’ll show us the money when you promise.”

  “I can’t just give somebody my blood, Warren. It’s got to be with a doctor and everything. You’d better take me To mom. She should know about this first anyway.”

  “We’re arranging all that medical stuff. There’s a private duty nurse on the way with all the right stuff. He should be here any minute. I want this to be our surprise for your mother. So let’s go.”

  “No way.”

  Tony raised his arms impatiently. “What’s going on?” he shouted.

  “We’re coming, Tony. Look, Taylor, I’ll be in there with you the whole time. You don’t have to be scared,” Warren said.

  “I told you I’m not scared. I’ve done it before, didn’t I? Are you taking me To mom or not?”

  Warren looked at Tony and then reached out quickly to seize Taylor’s wrist.

  “One way or another, you’re going in there.”

  “Let go!” Taylor shouted and twisted his torso. because of Warren’s position and extended reach, Taylor was able to pull his wrist out of Warren’s grip. He opened the door and dropped out to the street. Then he shot forward.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” Tony shouted.

  “It’ll be all right. Don’t worry,” Warren called back and started after Taylor.

  Warren thought he would have no problem catching the little bastard. Taylor was scrambling away, but he ran awkwardly. In less than ten seconds, Warren cut the distance between them. Taylor looked back, now panicked at the sight of a grown man pursuing him. His throat closed, his leg
s buckled. He saw Warren reach out for him, and he went to his knees to duck under Warren’s grasp. Warren didn’t anticipate it and tripped over him, flying forward into the street nearly face-first. He just managed to turn his shoulder in time so it would take the brunt of the fall.

  Taylor spotted an elderly man pruning flowers in the front of his home on the left. He leaped forward and then charged through the man’s front gate. The short, stocky, nearly baldheaded man turned with surprise and looked up. He didn’t know what was happening yet, but the sight of a grown man getting up from the street and a young boy in a panic at first seemed unreal and then shocking. Taylor stood there panting.

  “Please…help me mister,” he pleaded.

  “What’s going on here?” the elderly man asked as Warren limped toward his gate.

  “That’s my son. He’s misbehaving,” Warren shouted, pointing at Taylor.

  Taylor shook his head. “I’m not his son. Please. Call the police,” he said.

  “Don’t listen to him. He’s a bad kid, one of those clever liars. He got in trouble with his teacher and ran away from school,” Warren babbled. “His mother is hysterical and sick over it. I’m trying to get him home.”

  “He’s lying!” Taylor said.

  Warren continued To move forward. The sight of him, hulking, sweaty, and angry, was quite intimidating.

  “I don’t need no trouble,” the elderly man said.

  “No trouble for you. I’ll handle it,” Warren said. “C’mon, Taylor. Leave this guy alone. You got to come home.”

  Taylor looked at the trembling elderly man and then at Warren. He realized that he had made a blunder coming through the gate. He was trapped on the property now. Warren could outrun and outmaneuver him. In as controlled a voice as he could manage, he turned back to the elderly man.

  “My name is Taylor Petersen. My phone number is 555-4567. Please call and tell my mother what you saw here if you don’t want to call the police. That’s all.”

  Warren lunged forward and seized Taylor at the neck, squeezing hard enough To make his eyes tear. He turned him roughly around. Then he looked back and smiled at the elderly man.

  “Forget it, buddy. The kid’s bad news. We’re going to send him to some reform school or something. This was the last straw,” Warren said and moved Taylor forward and out of the gate.

  The elderly man, his heart thumping, watched them go back up the street.

  Warren now had his arm around Taylor’s neck, holding him so tightly that Taylor’s head was against Warren’s chest. He practically lifted him off the ground and didn’t respond at all to Taylor’s kicking and clawing.

  “That doesn’t look right,” the elderly man muttered.

  He thought a moment and then he shook his head.

  He didn’t need this.

  He had his own problems, and kids today were a pain in the ass. Maybe that was the only way to handle such a little troublemaker.

  Besides, he already had forgotten the telephone number. He couldn’t call if he wanted. That eased his conscience. He wasn’t going to call the police and go through all that. No thank you.

  He returned to his flowers.

  At least they didn’t talk back.

  Not that he could hear.

  Tony stepped back from the gate as Warren literally dragged Taylor through it and down the short walk to the front entrance.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” he asked, following him.

  “Just a little family argument. Nothing serious,” Warren said looking back at him. “You know how it is, Tony. Young people don’t know what’s good for them and what ain’t. We were no different.”

  Tony shook his head and moved forward to open the front door.

  Warren practically heaved Taylor through it. He spun around and then fell on his rear and looked up.

  “Don’t pull any more dumb shit on me, Taylor. I mean it,” Warren said, pointing his finger at him.

  Taylor looked from Warren to the large man beside him, who looked as big as a Sumo wrestler. Charging ahead and out was definitely out of the question.

  “You’re going to get into a lot of trouble for this,” he said.

  “Right,” Warren said. “Get up and go down the hallway.”

  He stepped toward him. Then he turned to Tony.

  “Find me some rope.”

  “Rope? What for?”

  “I’m either going to hang him or myself. Just find me some rope.”

  Tony smirked. “Frankie ain’t gonna like this.”

  “Oh, he’s going to like it fine. Won’t he, Taylor?”

  Taylor eyed the living room on the left and then turned to look at the kitchen and the hallway that led to the right. There didn’t seem to be any easy escape route. He rose slowly and hovered against the wall. Warren, still panting, his shoulders hoisted, looked like some sort of wildcat. Despite his own danger, Taylor’s first thought was How could my mother ever feel anything for this man? The realization that she once apparently had felt something for Warren depressed him.

  “Now you’re going to cooperate, Taylor,” Warren told him, relaxing his stance somewhat. “We’re going to give this rich guy what he wants and go home, understand?”

  Taylor shook his head. “My mother’s going to tell the police about this. You’re going to go to jail.”

  Warren smiled. “That’s right. I’m going to jail.”

  “Okay,” Tony said, returning with some rope. “Now what?”

  “Is there a guest bedroom?”

  “So?”

  “Let’s go, Taylor,” Warren said. “Show us the way, Tony.”

  Taylor didn’t move. When Warren approached and reached for him, he ducked under his hand, surprising even himself with his agility, and ran toward the front door. Warren tackled him just as he grabbed the handle and slammed him down to the tile so hard it stunned him and knocked the breath out of him. He gasped desperately.

  “Hey, he’s no good dead, is he?” Tony shouted.

  “He’ll live,” Warren said. This time he literally lifted Taylor by grabbing him around his waist and carrying him as if he were a baby.

  Tony shook his head and led them to the guest bedroom. Warren dropped Taylor on the bed and then took the rope and began tying his arms behind his back and running it down around his ankles. When he was finished, he stood back.

  “All right. That’s done,” he told Tony. “Sorry for the slight disturbance.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” they heard Frankie shout from his bedroom.

  Tony looked at Warren.

  “I hope you know what the fuck you’re doing,” Tony said.

  “It’s a piece of cake. Tell him not to worry.”

  “It’s all right, Frankie. I got it covered!” Tony shouted back.

  They heard the doorbell.

  Taylor, regaining his breathing, hoped the elderly man had called the police. Warren saw the hope in his eyes.

  “That the nurse you called?” he asked Tony.

  “Let’s go see.”

  They left and returned to the front door to greet a tall, slim man in a blue uniform. He had light-brown shoulderlength hair with the ends curled up like a pageboy. He held what looked like an old-fashioned doctor’s satchel.

  “You a nurse?” Tony asked him, mostly because of his hair.

  “Yes,” he replied. “I’m Gary Palmer. I’m doing private duty for Mr. Morris. He sent me over here as a favor for Mr. Vico. I’m not sure why. What exactly do you need?”

  “We need you, exactly, to take some blood and inject it into Mr. Vico,” Tony said. He turned to Warren. “Right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What? Inject blood? You don’t inject blood into someone,” Gary said, twisting his body as he spoke.

  He’s so gay that he’s going to fly off the doorstep, Warren thought.

  “Well, we need you to do it here,” Tony said.

  “Excuse me. Maybe you don’t understand. Blood is transferred from one perso
n to another in a process known as a transfusion, which is usually done in a hospital, not a home. You…”

  “This is different,” Warren said. “We have a special situation.”

  “What special situation?” Gary asked, tilting his head and bringing his left hand to his hip.

  “You’ll see.”

  “I’m afraid I won’t see. It sounds like voodoo, and I don’t do voodoo. Sorry,” he said, turned, and started away.

  “Hey!” Tony called to him.

  He turned, again putting his left hand on his hip.

  “You don’t inject blood. What doctor told you to call me to do that?”

  “Huh?” Tony said.

  “Forget him,” Warren said. “He just gave me a better idea.” He stepped back and closed the door.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Again, Allan drove slowly out of Palm Springs. He felt numb. How he had he made such a mess of so golden an opportunity? The magic bullet had just slipped through his fingers. The monster he had conjured so many times in his mind was smiling gleefully. It had teased and then tormented him. Perhaps he was wrong to think that he had the strength, the intelligence, the power to stand up to it.

  All he had left was Joe’s promise to try to get Demi Petersen aboard again, but now that was almost as much a long shot as anything else he could think of doing or trying. There was no way to rationalize this. He was a colossal failure. He was going home with his tail between his legs.

  For a few moments, he was wallowing so deep in self-pity he didn’t hear his cell phone ringing.

  “Allan Parker,” he said.

  “Hey, Doc, I got some good news for you,” Warren Moore said.

  Allan sat up straighter. “And what might that be, Mr. Moore?”

  “The kid’s going to give you the blood you need.”

  “His mother approved?”

  “Everyone’s approved, including me.”

  “But I was with Mrs. Petersen not too long ago and…”

  “Taylor wants it this way. He’s feeling guilty, and when Demi heard I was not going to ask you for any money for it, she said yes.”