Cry Revenge (Holloway House Originals)

by Donald Goines

  Pedro had found his nerve again. He moved toward the pair of men with his knife out. Emilio reached around George and knocked the knife out of his brother's hand.

  "You fool, you," Emilio snarled. "Haven't you made enough of a mess out of this shit already? Let's hope like hell Fat George doesn't die on us, you dumb bastard!"

  "Like hell," Pedro growled, then quickly removed a small caliber pistol from his inside pocket. Before Emilio could reach him, Pedro had pointed the gun at the man on the floor and pulled the trigger. The sound of the small pistol going off in the apartment wasn't as loud as a firecracker, but it was loud enough.

  "Goddamn," Emilio growled, then ran toward the wide windows that looked out on the well-kept grounds of the building. As he searched wildly for the window lock, Emilio heard his brother open the front door of the apartment.

  The sight of the young man covered with blood coming out of the apartment carrying a pistol in his right hand took both officers by surprise.

  Pedro was just as surprised to find policemen in the hallway. He panicked and began to run. There was no thought in his mind to stay and fight. Even though he held a pistol, he had no intention of using it.

  "Drop that weapon!" one of the policemen yelled out loudly.

  Pedro didn't even hear the order. He was too intent on fleeing. Before he reached the stairway, both policemen had raised their weapons. One of them put a shot over Pedro's head trying to warn him, while his partner took a more serious aim. When Pedro didn't drop the weapon and continued to run, the second policeman held his weapon in both hands and pulled the trigger.

  The bullet went into Pedro's back and came out his chest. The force of the shot knocked the pistol out of Pedro's hand as he stumbled and fell, his fingers clutching at the banisters. His hand opened and closed, and then he died. The wild light in his eyes became dim and then went out completely as the last flicker of life left the body.

  Inside the apartment, Emilio heard the gunshots. They added speed to his search for a catch on the window. Not finding one, he picked up a small chair and tossed it through the glass. The sound of breaking glass was heard by the policemen.

  Using the chair, Emilio knocked the rest of the glass away from the edges of the window. He didn't want to get cut when he went out the window. Emilio took another glance outside. The jump was just two floors so it wouldn't be all that bad, he reasoned. Quickly he stuck his legs out and began to lower himself out the window.

  At the sound of the glass breaking, Jay looked up from where he stood. He still couldn't get over what had happened. It was like another person had taken over his body. He watched Emilio go out the window, wanting to run over and go with him, but for some reason he couldn't keep his eyes off the dead woman at his feet. He couldn't understand why he felt guilty for her death. It wasn't his fault.

  The sudden commotion of people jamming the doorway came to Jay as though from far away. He saw the two men in blue uniforms come in, but didn't pay them any heed.

  "Sonofabitch," one of the officers cursed as he took in the blood-smeared apartment. His partner had seen a man's hands on the window sill as they came rushing in. He ran towards the window.

  Emilio dropped from the broken window. He landed on his feet but quickly rolled over, taking the weight of the drop off his ankles. When he regained his feet, he glanced up to see a white-faced policeman leaning down pointing a pistol at him.

  "Hold it right there!" the policeman yelled out. "Don't make me kill you"

  At the sound of the order, Emilio froze. But as he realized what he had left behind, the idea of surrendering left his mind. He could still see Jay standing over the dead woman. There was no way he was going to give himself up for a murder charge. Taking one more quick look up at the man in the window, Emilio made up his mind. He broke to the right first, then zig-zagged back toward his left, hoping to throw the policeman's aim off.

  The first shot missed him by three feet. Emilio cut back to his right quickly, searching for the safest route. If he could only reach the parking lot, he reasoned, he'd have a good chance of getting away. Their car was parked there, and once he reached it he could be gone before the policemen could get back down the steps.

  The officer in the window rested his pistol on the edge of the window frame and took dead aim, then slowly pulled the trigger. Even before he fired he knew he had missed. Emilio had cut back quickly to his left at the same moment.

  Damn, the policeman cursed under his breath. He took his time and aimed again. This time he allowed the fleeing man to make his sudden cut. He waited patiently until Emilio cut back again. As soon as he was sure the man wouldn't make another cut, he slowly squeezed off his next shot. He let out a grunt of satisfaction as he saw the fleeing man stumble.

  Pain exploded between Emilio's shoulder blades. He knew he had been hit but hoped it wasn't too serious. He continued to run, even though he couldn't keep up his speed. The sudden appearance of a police car in front of him didn't faze him at all. He attempted to go around the car as it stopped in front of him. The sight of a tall, pale-faced man jumping out with a pistol in his hand didn't disturb Emilio either.

  As the policeman ran up to Emilio, Emilio felt himself beginning to fall but without understanding the reason for it. He was weak, weaker than he had ever been before in his life. Suddenly the concrete came up and hit him in the face, but he was beyond feeling even that.

  The darkness that slowly overcame him brought relief, his worries disappeared, and a slight smile of contentment appeared on his face as death embraced him.

  Later more detectives arrived on the scene. The first two policemen who had arrived went over their story again. There was an apartment full of dead people, with one living witness who had been there, yet after talking to Jay, the policemen were still in the dark as to the reasons for the murders. The suitcase full of money had been found. At the end of the conversation, robbery and murder was the verdict. But none of the policemen could really make any sense out of Jay's participation in the gruesome killings.

  There was no doubt in their minds that he had killed the woman, even though he claimed he hadn't. But the bloody knife that he had held until some policemen had forced it from him didn't have anyone else's fingerprints but his.

  The detectives went back over everything again, but at the end, they were only sure of one thing. They had the murderers, true enough, but Jay would never stand trial. The heavyset Mexican would spend the rest of his life in an insane asylum.

  13

  DAN GLANCED UP AT THE SKY as he made his way back. He cursed under his breath as he turned up the collar on the light gray jacket he wore. The early evening chill was setting in, and he could feel it in his very bones. One reason for it, he believed, was because he hadn't had his fix yet. After that, he reasoned, he might be able to put up with the brisk wind.

  In his hurry to reach a destination where he could fix, Dan forgot to be careful. The only thing on his mind was reaching a safe place, away from prying eyes. If he had taken his time and had looked back over his shoulder, he wouldn't have missed the young paperboy following him so openly.

  After crossing another street, Dan stopped and reconsidered. Why waste time going all the way back to the deserted house he had left when all he had to do was find another empty house? With this in mind, he began to pay more attention to the houses he passed. After walking another block, he believed he saw just what he was looking for. It was one of the modem houses that someone had moved into, then vacated. The front of the house was boarded up, but Dan wasn't concerned about that. He was sure there was another entry to the house.

  But there was one problem. If the house was completely boarded up, it would be too dark inside for him to fix his jive. He had to have enough light to see by. And then, there was always the problem of water. If he had only wanted to sleep, it would have been perfect, but he wasn't looking for a place to lay his head right now.

  Dan walked past the house and noticed that there were no board
s on the side windows, even though someone had gone to the trouble of putting up screens so that bricks wouldn't knock out the windows. That was cool, he reflected. If he could only get inside now, everything would be okay. There was definitely enough light inside to see by. After walking past four houses, Dan quickly cut through the first yard he saw.

  His movement had been so fast that he almost took the young boy following him by surprise. The kid rode his bike up to where Dan had turned off and laid it against the fence. He climbed off and followed quickly on foot. He was just in time to see Dan turn into the backyard of the deserted new home.

  Dan walked up to a rear window and closely examined it. There was no way for him to force an entry without making any noise, so that was out. After closer scrutiny, Dan noticed that the rear door could be forced, but again he didn't want to make any noise. If he had just been looking for a place to sleep, he could have kicked the door in, disregarding the noise.

  Once he had the door kicked open, all he would have to do would be to leave, then return a couple hours later. That way, if anyone had heard him kicking the door and called the police, they would have come and gone by the time he returned to get some sleep.

  But that wasn't the case at this moment. Dan needed a place to fix, and the longer he put it off, the worse he wanted the drugs.

  He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice the young kid who walked past in the alley. On the boy's second pass, Dan still didn't see him; he was leaning his weight against the door to see just how much it would give. Under his weight, the door opened slightly, revealing that someone before him had already removed the nails from out of the bottom of the boards that made up the door. Someone had taken the new door and all that was left were boards.

  Dan glanced around quickly, then raised his foot and gave the bottom board a hard kick. The board came flying off. The noise wasn't too loud, he told himself as he nervously glanced over his shoulder. He saw a young black boy walk past, but that didn't con cern him. The boy seemed to be minding his own business, so Dan quickly dismissed him. He now had one of the boards off, and after a minute's quick work, he had another one removed.

  Taking another quick look around, Dan made sure the noise hadn't aroused any of the nosy housewives nearby. Then he started to slip under the loose boards. He caught himself just in time. Removing an old paper cup from his pocket, Dan came off the rear porch and walked around to the house next door. He searched the windows of the inhabited house to make sure nobody was peeping out of one of the windows at him. He moved up to the outside water spout, then stuck the cup under it and filled it up with water. When he finished, he made sure the tap was turned off tight, then went back to the vacant house.

  Not taking any chances, Dan set the cup of water down first, then pushed it under the door. He took another good look around, then got down on his belly and slipped through the opening created by the two boards he had removed. Once inside, he stood up. He could see that someone had surely been inside. The house had been stripped of its furnishings. Someone had removed all the new cupboards. The modem sink that went with the new house was gone, and when Dan looked into the bathroom, he saw that someone had stolen the toilet and bathtub. The facebowl was also missing.

  Goddamn the bastards, Dan cursed under his breath. He had removed enough furnishings from vacant houses in his lifetime to know just what kind of prices they brought on the market. As he searched for the room with the most light, he passed the small furnace and smiled. Whoever had ripped the house off hadn't known how to take the furnace, or didn't have a way to get rid of it.

  Dan smiled bleakly. He knew where he could get fifty dollars for the new model furnace, but it took two men and a car to haul it away. It wasn't too much of a job taking it out, but there was some noise involved that made it risky.

  Dan finally decided to do the stuff up in the kitchen, right next to where he had come in. That way he would have the light from the door where he had removed the two boards. As he glanced down he could see from the growing shadows on the floor that he would have to move quickly or there wouldn't be enough light for him to see by. Dan rolled up his sleeve, took off his belt, and tied up his arm. He ran his fingers up and down the veins, feeling for the largest one.

  In a second he had the one he wanted, so he put his dope into the wine top he had placed on the floor. Quickly he lit three matches and held them under the top. When it got too hot to hold, he shifted it to another finger, still retaining his grip on it. The dose inside the cooker quickly dissolved.

  He took the end of his dropper and slowly stirred the drugs around inside the cooker, making sure everything mixed. When he was satisfied, he leaned down and drew up some of the drugs until his dropper was full.

  It took a minute because of the dimness of the kitchen, but Dan finally got his hit. Blood rushed up into the dropper. He let out a sigh and slowly began to run the fluid back into his vein. A relaxing mood settled on him as the drugs took their effect, and he settled back against the wall and nodded.

  His worries disappeared. There was no fear in him now, only a contented feeling. His head dropped down on his chest and Dan closed his eyes. He could have been asleep in a large water bed from the pleased expression on his face. For the time being, Dan didn't have a care in the world.

  After a decent time of waiting, Tommie, the young boy, came out of hiding and ran toward his bike. He was sure he had found Dan's hideout. Now all he wanted to do was relay the message. He counted in his mind what he could do with the fifty-dollar reward he would get from Rita's brother, Curtis, after he told him about Dan's hideout.

  He thanked his lucky stars for stopping off that day and talking to Rita. He was having fun with her when Curtis walked up and asked him if he knew his friend Dan. When he said he had seen Curtis and Dan together a few times, Curtis had offered him fifty dollars to let him know where Dan was if he should ever see him.

  As the thought flashed across his mind, Tommie put on his brakes and turned around quickly. He rode back to the empty house that Dan had occupied. He quickly wrote down the address, then turned around and started riding away as fast as his bike would go.

  Across town Curtis carried Shirley's bags out to the car. She didn't want to leave, but Curtis wasn't taking any chances. After what had happened, he knew either one of the Fernandez brothers would take any kind of risk to hurt him. It didn't matter who they reached, either. He wished wholeheartedly that he could make his mother understand, but her understanding was zero. Nothing he said to her would make any sense. All he could do was hope that the Chicanos wouldn't strike at him there. Until he could make sure of that, he would have to get somebody to watch the house when he wasn't around.

  Shirley came out of the house, herding the kids in front of her. "I know this is just a waste of time, Curt, but since you say the kids might get hurt, I'm not about to take any chances," she said as she came up to the car.

  "Actions should speak louder than any words I'm able to say, girl. You see Billy is fucked up in the goddamn hospital, yet you don't want to believe me when I tell you them fuckin' Mexicans think I'm responsible for their brother's death!"

  "I know, honey," she answered quickly, "but it's so damn hard to believe; it's so unfair. Since I was there, I know just what went down, so I don't see how the hell they can be so far off the track."

  Curtis grinned at her as he took her arm and led her to the car door. The children jumped in the rear of the car quickly.

  The drive was over almost before it had begun. Curtis pulled up in front of the modern building and got out. He came around the car and held the door open for Shirley.

  Shirley smiled up at him as she got out. "If the apartment's half as nice on the inside as it is on the outside, Curt, I might just want to stay here."

  Curtis grinned down at her as she got out of the car. Even though she was his woman, he couldn't help but look at her pretty legs when her skirt rose up around her hips as she slipped across the car seat. He grinned widely. "S
hit, woman, if you don't pull your skirt down, I'll never get away from here."

  Both of them laughed as they went up the path, leading the kids. Curtis opened the outside door with a key. "You can't even get in downstairs without a key," he informed her.

  "I see it's real modern, but I'm a little worried about the inside swimming pool, Curtis. What about the children? Aren't you worried about them going near the water?"

  "No," Curtis answered truthfully. "I'm not concerned with them going near the water. I am worried about them gettin' in the water, though." He laughed at the look on her face. "Don't look so damn worried, Shirley. We trained the kids better than that. If we tell them to stay away from the pool unless one of us is with them, then they will do just that. Anyway," Curtis added, "they have a house rule here. Children aren't allowed near the pool unless their parents are with them."

  Shirley let out a sigh of relief. "Good. That's one less worry, then." As they walked up the inside path way leading to the apartments that surrounded the swimming pool like a motel, Shirley smiled. "I see they even have a little fence up. That's real good."

  "Yeah," Curtis replied as he took her arm and led her in another direction. "Our apartment is upstairs, We weren't lucky enough to get one of the ones downstairs, so we have to walk up a flight of steps." So saying, Curtis led the way upstairs. He walked around the open hallway until he reached the number he was looking for.

  Curtis put the key in the lock and opened the door.

  Shirley let out a squeal as she got her first look at the inside of the apartment. "Oh, Curtis, it's really lovely. I didn't expect anything like this. My God, it's like something out of a movie, Curt. Honey, what are you trying to do, spoil me?" Before he could say anything, she tossed her arms around his neck and held him tightly.

  For a while, Curtis allowed her to embrace him, but his mind wasn't completely on it. He was too worried about his family. Billy had already been hurt because of him. He didn't want another member of his family to be harmed while he was laying up.