Kim Oh 3: Real Dangerous People (The Kim Oh Thrillers)

by K. W. Jeter

  “All the more reason to pack it in, then.” Elton unbuttoned his shirt cuffs. “Whatever shit it is, most likely it’ll still be there later on.”

  “That would kind of be the problem.” I got up from the bed and went over to the studio’s kitchen area. I filled up the kettle I found on top of the doll-size stove, lit the burner, then set it back down to boil. On a shelf over the sink, I found a jar of store-brand instant. “Let’s do up some coffee. Because there’re things we need to get straight.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “You. Me.” I shrugged. “The crew.”

  That gave Elton a turn to laugh and shake his head.

  “Listen, sweetheart,” he said. “Whatever problems you got, they’re not mine.”

  “You might be wrong about that.” I spooned the coffee granules into a pair of mismatched cups. “Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure you are.”

  “What’re you talking about?” He sat down at the little table that was a couple of feet from the end of the bed.

  “Come on. You weren’t born yesterday.” I thought I had a chance of maybe getting through to him, since he was the youngest guy on the crew – or at least had been until I’d been dragged on to it. “Neither was I. If you can’t see what’s going on, I sure as hell can.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “Let’s just say I’ve got a handle on your pal Foley. I got a pretty good idea of what he’s been telling you. About me.”

  Elton shrugged. “The man likes to talk.”

  “So I’ve noticed.” I leaned back against the edge of the sink, waiting for the kettle to boil. “I also noticed that he wasn’t where he was supposed to be tonight.”

  “Yeah?” Elton raised an eyebrow. “You were over at Falcon’s place?”

  “That’s right.” I gave a nod. “And shit happened tonight. Not good shit, either. And Foley wasn’t inside, taking care of his job, when it came down. He went somewhere and met up with you, didn’t he?”

  “Might’ve.”

  “I’ll take that as a yes. Little meeting you guys arranged between yourselves?”

  “No –” Elton shook his head. “I had no idea he was going to show up.”

  “Just to talk, huh?”

  “Like I said. That’s what ol’ Foley likes to do.”

  “You know –” I could hear the water starting to bubble. “You’re right.”

  “I nearly always am.”

  “You know something else? It’s not really a problem. Foley liking to talk and all. Except for one thing.”

  A plume of steam came out of the kettle’s spout. I turned off the burner and poured the boiling water into the cups.

  “One thing, huh? What’s that?”

  “Curt.”

  I set Elton’s coffee in front of him, then sat down with mine opposite him.

  He took a swallow, the lowered the cup and shook his head.

  “I don’t really like to talk about other people,” said Elton. “Not as much as Foley does.”

  “Neither do I. But this is something we need to talk about.” I took a sip from my cup. “There’s a problem with Curt.”

  “That’s funny. Foley was saying pretty much the same thing.”

  “I bet he did. Because he can see the same thing I can. Curt’s not right.”

  “He’s right enough.”

  “Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I know just a little bit more about him than you do. About the way he used to be.”

  “Now, that is interesting.” Elton leaned back and regarded me. “Foley said you and Curt used to be tight.” He nodded. “Real tight.”

  “Foley told you that?”

  “Sure did.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “Oh . . . that you and Curt had a little thing goin’ on. Sack-wise. That’s all.”

  “Really?” I stared at him in amazement. “Well, let me clue you in on another problem with Foley liking to talk so much. He also likes to talk crap. I’ve never had any ‘thing’ going on with Curt or anybody else.”

  “Yeah?” That seemed to intrigue him.

  “Pack it in, buddy. You’re not in line to be the first.”

  “Okay. So how do you know so much about Curt, then?”

  “I asked around. When I was up in Albany, working for Moretti. You know, the talking thing isn’t just an issue with Foley. All you guys are like a bunch of old women, yakking it up. Must have too much time on your hands or something. Anyway, there’s a bunch of people up there who know Curt from a long way back. They told me all about him.”

  “So now you know all about him, huh?”

  “Maybe not as much as some of his old friends,” I said. “But enough to know that he’s not the way he used to be. I bet you’ve noticed the same things I have.”

  Elton looked uncomfortable, but didn’t say anything.

  “You must’ve seen the way his hands have started to shake.”

  “Yeah . . .” Elton contemplated his cup for a moment, then nodded. “I seen that. We all have.”

  “That what Foley came out to talk to you about?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “What’d you guys decide?”

  “Nothing,” said Elton. “What the hell can we do about it? He’s the crew leader.”

  “Foley agreed with you on that?”

  “Didn’t say he did.” Elton looked up at me. “But that’s where I’m at. So Curt’s gotten himself a little bit of a tremor. Big deal. Man’s getting old – what’d you expect from him? And if he can’t shoot the way he used to, that’s just the way it is. We’ll take care of it for him.”

  “The way he used?” That irritated me. “You know, while you and Foley were having your little gabfest, I practically got killed tonight. Curt dragged me out to some stupid barn in the middle of nowhere and –”

  “He did that to you?” Elton smiled. “Damn, I remember when he pulled that stunt on me. His little test for new members of the crew. When he got done running my ass ragged, I jumped up and punched him. Gave him a bloody nose. That’s when he told me I’d made the grade. Welcome aboard and all that stuff.”

  “Yeah, great. I’m sure that when you two got done with your little male-bonding ritual, you had a fine time peeing against the same wall. But that was then. And this is now. If it was just Curt having a tremor in his gun hand, it wouldn’t matter. We could cover for that. But you know there’s something more going on, don’t you?”

  Elton twisted around on his chair. I knew I had him on the spot.

  “Yeah,” he said after a moment. “Curt’s not calling the shots, setting stuff up, the way he used to. That’s changed, just while I been on the crew. He’s screwing up.” Elton wrapped his hands around his cup. “We’ve already been covering up for him.”

  “You can only cover up for him so long. Then somebody will get killed.”

  “Somebody did,” Elton said glumly. “That was poor Heinz. He was a nice old guy.”

  “Next one might be you. Or me.”

  “So what do you think I’m supposed to do about it?” Elton drained his cup and set it down hard on the table. “The man’s been straight with me, from the beginning. Curt stood up for me. He gave me my chance on the crew.”

  “Like I said. That was then.”

  “Yeah, well, if you think I’m gonna stab him in the back, you can just forget about it. I’m telling you the same thing I told Foley. I’m not doing it.”

  “You don’t have to,” I said quietly.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “It’s going to happen, with or without you. Your buddy Foley – he doesn’t just like to talk about people. Does he?”

  “No. He doesn’t.”

  “So it’s not a question of what’s going to happen with Curt. That’s a done deal. Foley will find a way to get rid of him. The question is – what’s going to happen with the crew. Who’s going to be the new leader?”

  “That’s up to Mr. Falcon.”

  “Sur
e,” I said. “And he’ll give the job to whoever solves this little problem for him. Won’t he?”

  “Maybe.” Elton pushed the handle of his cup back and forth. “Might . . . just depend on what the rest of the crew wants.”

  “Yeah? And with Curt gone, who’d stick up for you?”

  “Earl might. He and I get along all right.”

  “So what?” I shook my head. “Earl’s not so young anymore, either. Something happens with the crew, he’s gotta look out for himself.”

  Elton mulled it over, then looked straight at me.

  “What about you?” He pulled his hand back from his coffee cup. “What do you want? You’re on the crew now, too.”

  “You’re right.” I knocked back the last of mine. “I have to look out for myself as well.”

  “Guess everybody does,” said Elton. “Get right down to it.”

  “Face it. When Curt’s gone, those other guys aren’t going to push you for the top job –”

  “You don’t have to tell me that. I knew that already.”

  “But that’s not all you got to worry about. You think when Foley is the new boss, he won’t be able to find some way to get rid of you? Why should he keep you around? Just so he can worry about you scheming on him? And why shouldn’t you? You don’t owe him anything.”

  “Don’t know about that,” said Elton. “Foley and I have been through a little bit together.”

  “Yeah. Very little. And not enough to keep him from thinking he might be better off with somebody else on the crew. Somebody a little more loyal to him.”

  “What’re you talking about? I don’t have anything against Foley –”

  “Maybe not. But why should he risk it? You aren’t anything to him. Far as he’s concerned, you’re just some yokel from out in the boonies. Somebody like Foley thinks people like you are dirt.”

  “Yeah?” Elton shot a hard glare back at me. “So what’s all that matter to you? Why are you so fired up about my problems?”

  “Because,” I said. “I thought maybe we could work something out. If Foley becomes the new leader of the crew, he’d get rid of me just as fast as he’d get rid of you.”

  “He’d be smart to, sweetheart. You’re sitting here right now, scheming away on him.”

  “And you’re listening to it. Aren’t you?”

  “So let’s say we get rid of ol’ Foley before he does us. And I became the new crew leader. Why wouldn’t I get rid of you?”

  “Like I said.” I didn’t let my own expression change. “Maybe we could work something out.”

  “Like what you had before with Curt?”

  “For Christ’s sake.” I let out a sigh. “I told you already. There wasn’t anything between me and Curt.”

  “Okay,” said Elton. “Doesn’t mean there couldn’t be something. With me.”

  I gazed back at him for a long time. “Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

  “I guess that’s the best I can ask for.” He got up from the table, went into the kitchen area, and rummaged in one of the cupboards, then came back with a quarter-full bottle of bourbon. He splashed some into his cup, then into mine. “Here’s to working something out.”

  I watched him knock his back.

  “Here’s to it.” I was so pissed, I couldn’t even taste mine as I threw it down my throat, then slammed the cup on the table. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  He glanced over at his narrow single bed right next to us, then back to me. “What’s wrong with right now?”

  “It’s late.” I started zipping up my jacket. “And I’m tired. Way too tired for that.”

  “That’s the problem with you city gals.” Elton watched as I pulled the studio door open. “You don’t even know what an honest day’s work is.”

  “Don’t even start with me.”

  I stepped out into the hallway and headed for the stairs.

  EIGHT

  I lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Thinking about stuff.

  Not really a bed – just the apartment’s saggy old sofa. With a pillow and the blankets I kept folded up in the closet. Someday, Donnie and I would have a place with a bedroom for each of us. That was one of the big things I was shooting for. It just hadn’t happened yet.

  As to what was going to happen next – that was something I didn’t know.

  Not just tomorrow, or the next day. But a long way down the road.

  A car drove by, on the empty street below. This late at night, you hear things like that, and it just sounds so sad. You don’t even know who it is, where they’re going, and you lie there, wondering if they’re as lonely and scared as you.

  I didn’t want to get up and look out the window. I’d seen it already. The icy blue moonlight picking out the frozen slush in the gutters and the crusted drifts of snow along the sidewalks . . .

  Actually, I was afraid I wouldn’t see that. It didn’t happen often, but there were still times when the world would go all flat and two-dimensional and unreal on me, as though it were just painted on sheets of transparent plastic. I hated that. The creepy feeling was something left over from that motorcycle accident I’d had, when I’d gone down and hit my head on the asphalt. There was still a little scar just above my ear, that I could trace with a fingertip when I washed my hair. I should’ve had x-rays taken when it’d happened, but when you don’t have money or insurance, you tend to let things like that slide, as long as actual pieces of yourself aren’t falling off.

  This stuff that was going on with Falcon and Karsh – and the crew – that was all making me feel the same sort of weird. At least, whenever I had the time to think about, which I tried to make sure I didn’t.

  Maybe if I got up and ate something, whatever was left over in the refrigerator – maybe then I’d feel better.

  I didn’t throw the blankets off and sit up. I just went on lying there. Thinking.

  About the crew, mainly.

  I didn’t want to wind up like those guys. I’d thought about that before, a little bit. And now I was thinking about it again.

  It’d been different when I had been working with Cole. When the two of us had been getting ready to kill our old boss McIntyre. Back then, I still hadn’t killed anybody yet, and anytime you do something for the first time, it’s exciting. That’s probably why kids are in such a hurry to get laid. I might’ve liked to do that, too – problem was, back when I’d been Little Nerd Accountant Girl, the only hook-up I might’ve been able to get was with somebody who pitied me even more than I did them. It’d seemed easier – or at least less humiliating – to just keep my head down in my spreadsheets and ledger books. Just let it collect dust. And now, with what Cole had told me about not trying to get any action along those lines, so I’d have better luck at killing people . . .

  Like being a frickin’ nun or something. Except for the part about killing people. That part was okay.

  At least, I hoped it was. I had been staring up at the ceiling for so long in the dark, my eyes were starting to ache. What if I got to that point – the way it must be for Curt and Foley and even that Elton guy, who was at least a little bit younger than the rest – when it was just business as usual?

  That’s really what scared me about those guys on the crew. Not what they were capable of doing – though they were certainly dangerous enough on that score. You don’t get that old in this line of work, without having made sure that a whole bunch of other people bit it rather than you. But what they were – that’s what scared me.

  What if I wound up like that?

  I mean . . . it’s like a lot of things you do when you’re young and you think it’s okay. Because you’re a kid and you’re as cute as you’re ever going to be. You think you can get away with all sorts of things then. You might even think it looks good on you.

  Like getting a tattoo.

  I hadn’t done that, either. Which didn’t bother me. I could see the point of the getting laid thing – I mean, everything I’d h
eard about it made it sound interesting enough – but getting ink poked into your skin . . . I don’t know.

  I’d had this conversation with one of the secretaries in McIntyre’s company, when she had actually lifted up her skirt to show me some multicolored unicorn she’d just had done. I’d stared at it, then I’d blurted out what I thought.

  “You wouldn’t look twice at that picture if it was hanging on a wall, or it was in a magazine. What makes you think it’s more interesting when it’s on your butt?”

  No wonder I never had any friends at work.

  I looked over at the clock on the shelf above the stove. The apartment was so small I could see it easily from the couch. Four in the morning and I was thinking about some former coworker’s stupid tattoo. I’d be in great shape when the sun finally came up.

  It would’ve been better if that had actually been what I was thinking about. It was still the stuff about the crew that was going round and round inside my head.

  Old guys. Who killed people. Good at it . . .

  There must’ve been a time when they had been my age. The age I was now. And they must’ve wondered what they would be like, what they would be doing, when they got as old as somebody else they were looking at. Maybe they’d figured they wouldn’t be doing this crap by then.

  That’s the problem. Nobody ever figures that. It just happens.

  I forced my eyes closed. Hoping for sleep, or just not being awake.

  It wasn’t a car going by in the empty street below. That wasn’t what I heard.

  I didn’t hear anything at all. Except the world rushing by.

  PART TWO

  You’re just wasting time when you talk to people. You should be killing them instead. – Cole’s Book of Wisdom

  NINE

  The next morning, Curt pulled the Chevy up to the curb outside the apartment building. Elton was already there waiting for him, hands deep in his coat pockets against the winter chill.

  “Don’t be surprised if Falcon’s in a bad mood.” Soon as Elton had climbed in, Curt swung the car around in the street. “We had trouble last night.”