I grinned. A dark stain spread across the kid’s crotch. “What’re you going to do, Mickey?”
The kid turned and fled so fast it was like he was shot from a cannon.
Sirens rose and sirens fell.
Time to get gone.
CHAPTER 42
Eddie was waiting for me when I got back to my office. The big man sat stuffed behind my desk. He was impeccably dressed, as always: black suit, black shirt, white tie. My plant was bobbing and swaying in the breeze blasting from a rotary fan on my desk. I pointed to the fan. “That’s new. Housewarming present?”
“More like house cooling. Remind me … I’ve got to get you some AC in this place.” Eddie Yao mopped his brow. “Tommy’s been calling nonstop. He’s angry as fuck, Jack. You better call him back quick.”
I ignored the phone in Eddie’s outstretched hand and stumped over toward the bathroom. Eddie frowned at my bruised and battered face. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I went to the gym.”
“Oh Jesus. Is the other guy okay?”
“He’ll live. Can’t say the same about his friends.”
Eddie gave his head a shake. “I don’t want to know.”
“No, you don’t.”
With a groan Eddie heaved his bulk from behind my desk. “You really should call Tommy.”
“Yeah. I will. But first I’m going to take another shower.”
“Good idea. You want me to send your suit out for cleaning?”
“Burn it.” I had two more identical black suits hanging in my tiny closet.
Eddie scooped up my suit. At the door he stopped and turned. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Don’t you worry about me.”
“Gotcha. I left my phone on your desk.”
“I hope you buy those things in bulk.”
Eddie grinned. “I know a guy. See you on the roof?”
“Yeah, maybe.” I wanted to sit on the roof for a million years. Forget Tommy, forget the punks from the gym, forget everything. Future alien archaeologists would find me fossilized in a lawn chair, one hand clutching a petrified beer.
My office shower was tiny but the water pressure was fantastic. Scalding hot water buffeted my body. I closed my eyes and turned my face to the spray. I didn’t even think about the gangbangers bleeding in the alley. They’d had a choice and they chose poorly. They attacked me and I defended myself. Reap the whirlwind, boys.
My eyes snapped open. I blinked rapidly, but it was no use. Every time I closed my eyes all I could see was that damn photo on Grover’s corkboard. That goddamn golden retriever staring stupidly at the camera.
I shut off the water and reached for a towel. Fuck it … Tommy could wait.
Moonlight bounced off the greasy water. Crickets chirped in the weeds poking up through the cracked concrete. Grover’s boat was tied up at the end of the pier.
Grover was standing on the deck waiting for me. His white suit gleamed in the moonlight. “Glad you changed your mind, Jack. You’re going to love Kansas City. They make the best smoked brisket sandwich you’ve ever tasted.”
I tilted my chin at his suit. “How do you keep those things so clean?”
“My suits stay clean because I’m careful. You know that. The key is being aware of your environment at all times. Some dumb shit might wear white pants and sit in ice cream. Not me.” Grover spotted the suitcase in my hand. “You’re travelling light.”
My suitcase was empty. “Yeah. You know me.”
Grover chuckled. “That I do. Come aboard, I’ll pour us some drinks.”
Inside the cabin there was no trace of the corkboards or the photographs. Everything was freshly cleaned.
“Spic and span in here.”
Grover nodded. “Yep. The Wife comes home in two days. We’ll be back by then.”
“In and out.”
“Exactly. Salud.” Grover passed me a vodka and we clinked glasses. The boat rocked gently with the waves. Outside the window, red lights winked from a distant harbour.
Grover shook his head. “The Chief was a good man.”
“He was. But he was human. He had his faults.”
Grover frowned. “Careful, Jack. Don’t speak ill of the dead.”
“I didn’t figure you were superstitious.”
“Superstitious? No. But I don’t tempt fate.” Grover’s lips twisted into a grin. “Let’s face it, Jack. People like us … we need all the luck we can get.”
“We make our own luck.”
Grover leaned back. His empty shot glass dangled from his hand. “I used to think like that. I thought skill and hard work would always win in the end. But it doesn’t work that way. The world is full of billions of hardworking people who bust their asses every single day and never catch a break. No … it’s not all about working hard. There’s another realm, Jack. I’m fully convinced. The universe is a complex place. Sometimes things just happen. If you’re in the right place at the right time, you stand to reap the benefits.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I’m saying luck is real.”
“Maybe. But the problem with luck is it can run out. Like what happened to The Chief.”
“The Chief was murdered, Jack. Cut down in cold blood by a fucking psychopath. Luck had nothing to do with it.”
“That’s what I’m saying. The Chief got drunk, got sloppy, and got murdered. He made his choices and he made his own luck — bad luck.”
The boat creaked and bumped against the pier. Grover stood up, set his shot glass down on the table, and stared out the window. “Do you know why we called him The Chief?”
I shook my head no. “I always figured he was part First Nations.”
Grover’s grin was reflected in the glass. “He might’ve been. But that’s not why we called him The Chief.” Grover turned away from the porthole and set his hand down on the back of a leather armchair. “He was a volunteer firefighter. That’s right. He grew up in a small town and he was the chief of the volunteer firefighters.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“He saved lives, Jack. He was a good man.”
“The Chief told me something once. He said everyone is organized into some kind of gang. Therefore everyone is a gangster.”
Grover grinned. He looked like a tiny wolf revealing his fangs. “The Chief was a wise man. Do you doubt him? That’s exactly the way the world works.”
“I thought about it for a long time. I don’t buy it. These people in Kansas City. Joey Machine’s family. They’re not gangsters. They’re just people trying to get by.”
“Listen to The Chief, Jack. Joey Machine’s brother is a gangster. His wife, his kids, his dog — they’re all fucking gangsters.”
“His dog is a gangster?”
“Living off the proceeds of crime. That mutt is a gangster, just like you or me.”
“The dog’s not a gangster. And I’m not a gangster.”
Grover laughed, short, dry little barks. “Oh no? Let me guess. You’re just a person trying to get by.”
“That’s right.”
“I’ve got a news flash for you, Jack. You work for Tommy. That makes you a gangster.”
“And Tommy’s barber? His mechanic? The guy who bags his groceries?”
“Gangsters, every last one of them. The Chief was right.”
I shook my head. “I don’t buy it.”
“Drink your vodka, Jack.”
I ignored the shot glass. The boat bumped against the dock. In the distance, a trawler churned the water.
Grover poured himself more vodka. “Let me ask you a question. Why did you come here tonight?”
“You know why.”
“You’ve had some moral epiphany. You’re trying to stop me from going to Kansas City.”
“This isn’t you, Grover.”
“Then who the fuck is it, Jack? Am I my Evil Twin?”
Grover took a step backward. I stood up.
Grover laughed again, dry and cold and joyless. “Yo
u’re unbelievable, Jack. You really are. I’ve never met anyone as self-deluded as you. ‘Not a gangster.’” Grover took another step backward, toward the shadows. “It’s a good thing The Chief can’t see you now. You never disappointed me, Jack. Not until today. I’ll send you a postcard from Kansas City.”
I ducked just in time. With a flash of silver a knife flew from Grover’s hand and buried itself in the wall inches above my head. I sent one of my own knives flying back into the shadows, but Grover was gone.
Shit, shit, shit. Another knife leapt into my hand. Cautiously I edged toward the cabin door and kicked it open. A hail of gunfire lit up the night. I pressed my back flat against the cabin wall as wood splintered all around me. Bullets punched into the table, the walls, the carpet. My ears were ringing. The air smelled like smoke and cedar.
The gunfire stopped. Silence came rushing through the bullet holes. I ducked through the splintered doorway and rolled onto the deck. The moon hung full over the greasy water. Spent shells rolled and clattered against the rail. Grover was gone.
I ran for the railing as fast as I could. I was up and over in seconds, diving toward the water below. I was in midair when the boat blew up. The fireball propelled me forward. It felt like there was a dragon breathing down my neck.
The moon greeted me as I bobbed to the surface. Pieces of burning wood floated all around me. I swam under the pier, not wanting to give Grover a clear shot. Chances were he was long gone but you know what they say: safety first. In the distance I heard sirens. I kicked off my shoes and swam for shore.
CHAPTER 43
I did my best drunk act with the cabbie, and I’m pretty sure it worked. I couldn’t be the first person who drank too much and fell into the lake. The cabbie didn’t want to stop, but I leapt in front of his car. He was cursing as he slammed on the brakes. “No, no, no,” he kept saying as I opened the back door and wedged myself inside. “No, no, no.” The wet hundred dollar bill I pressed into his palm helped him change his mind. After all, it’s only water.
If there wasn’t a contract out on me before, there was now. I leaned back and closed my eyes. I was tired, so tired. Adrenalin surge depleted. Cold and wet seeped into my bones. I should’ve killed Grover when I had the chance.
But I’m no killer. Soon Grover would come for me. Would I be ready? The knock on the door. The crocodile smile. The gun held behind the back. Would it be quick or slow?
Stop that. Pull it together. Maintain, maintain. There’s always a solution. There’s always a way out.
The cab dropped me off at a downtown hotel. In my room I double-bolted the door, pulled on a fluffy white robe, and hung my wet clothes from the shower rod. I called down and had the concierge send up some dry clothes from the gift shop. Room service sent up two bacon cheeseburgers, a Caesar salad, and a platter of onion rings. After the boat explosion I wasn’t so worried about my cholesterol. Who was I trying to impress, the autopsy doctors? “Half his head was blown away, but get a load of this liver. Smooth, subtle, and spotless.”
There’s that fatalism again. Is this what happened to The Chief? Did he look around his tiny trailer one night and just say “Fuck it”? The Chief went out riding a tidal wave of sex and booze and drugs. There’s worse ways to go.
I sat crosslegged on the bed in my gift shop sweatpants and red sweatshirt with a white maple leaf emblazoned on the front. My eyes closed. My breathing slowed. Grover’s corkboard appeared, shimmering in my mind’s eye. Black marker scrawled maniacally over everything. Photos, arrows, names, addresses, phone numbers.
My eyes snapped open. I reached for the phone.
“Hello?”
“Is this William Mezell?”
“Who’s calling, please?”
“Mr. Mezell, I knew your brother.”
“I don’t have a brother.”
Oh Christ. “Listen to me carefully. There’s no time for the song and dance. You had a brother named Joey. He’s dead. There’s a man who wanted to kill him. He never had the chance. Now he’s pissed off and crazy. He’s coming to kill you.”
“What? Who is this?”
“Here’s what you need to do. Gather up your family and head for the hills. You hear me? Go someplace you’ve never been before. Call it a vacation.”
“You’re serious.”
“I am.”
“I’ll call the police. They’ll —”
“They’ll call in the cleaners to mop up your blood. This man is coming and he will kill you all. Get out. NOW.”
Silence on the other end. I could picture Willy Mezell standing in his kitchen, designer copper pans hanging spotless from a rack above the stove. Maybe he was holding a glass of Scotch. For sure he was wearing a sweater vest and tan slacks.
“How … how will I know when it’s safe?”
“Someone will call and leave a message. Check your messages remotely. Do you understand?”
“I … yes.”
“Good. Now, GO.”
I hung up. I wasn’t worried about someone tracing the call. I’d checked in with a fake name and a fake ID. Time for two more calls.
“Eddie. I won’t be home for a while. Grover is on the warpath.”
“That’s not good.”
“No, it’s not.”
“What can I do?”
“Close up shop.”
“I can’t do that.”
“You can and you will. Go to the fucking mattresses. You hear me? This is not a drill.”
“This isn’t good for business, Jack.”
“Neither is getting killed.”
“Be careful.”
“I always am.”
One more call.
“Hi, Suzanne?”
“Jack.”
“We’ve got a problem. You need to get out of town for a few days.”
“This shit again?” Her voice was exasperated.
“Afraid so. But listen, this time —”
“No.”
“No is not an option. Get out and get out now.”
There was a pause on the other end. “Some women like that, don’t they, Jack?”
“Like what?”
“When guys bark orders. Not me, though.”
“I …” I closed my eyes tight. Breathe in, breathe out. “You’re in danger. Get out of town and call me in a couple of days. Everything is going to be fine, I promise.”
“Oh really? You promise? Everything’s going to be hunky-dory? I can’t do this, Jack.”
“What?”
“This. Us. I can’t do it.”
“Suzanne. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Things got fucked up. But I can make this right. I just need some time. We’re almost there, babe. I can see the light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Jack —”
“Just go out of town. Anywhere. I’ll pay you back. Two, three days, tops. Just do this one last thing. Do this and then we’re done. I’ll be out of your hair forever. I’m not happy about it, but if that’s what you want then that’s what you’ll get. Okay?”
“Goodbye, Jack.”
Shit, shit, shit. Numb, I hung up the phone, wiped my prints off it, and stared out the window. Blue skies and sunshine. It was a beautiful fucking day.
CHAPTER 44
Tommy’s club was closed. Someone had put a concrete barricade in front of the front door. I circled around and headed for the back. In the alley two guys in blue sweatsuits saw me coming and peeled themselves off the wall.
“We’re closed.”
“I need to see Tommy.”
One of the guys was wearing an obvious hairpiece, sandy brown as opposed to his real black hair flecked with grey. He was older than Tommy’s usual crew. He pulled up his shirt to reveal the butt of a gun. “I said we’re fucking closed.”
“My name’s Jack. Tommy called me. He wants to see me.”
“You’re Jack?” Hairpiece gave me the once-over. “I’ve heard of you. You don’t look so tough.”
I managed a crooked smile. “It�
�s an illusion. It’s done with mirrors.”
Hairpiece looked like he just bit a lemon. “You’re not so funny, either.”
“Look. Tommy wants to see me. So we can stand out here jawing or I can go in there and get shit done.”
Hairpiece turned and grinned at his buddy. His buddy looked bored out of his fucking mind. “You know who Tommy is? Tommy is a scared little bitch.”
The other guy’s laughter rang cruelly through the alley. Hairpiece stepped aside. His buddy knocked twice and the door opened.
Inside, the club was dark and quiet. Like a tomb. Nemo pushed the door shut behind me and bolted it.
“What’s happening, Nemo?”
There were big dark circles under the huge man’s eyes. He hadn’t slept and he hadn’t shaved. He looked at me with big sad eyes and he shook his head. “It’s not good, Jack. No one’s returning Tommy’s calls. The wheels have come off this train.”
“Those guys outside?”
“Murray and Mike. They work for Little Vito.”
“And you?”
Nemo shrugged. “I work for The Boss.”
Nemo led me upstairs. Our footsteps echoed in the darkness. Tommy’s bodyguard Rocco was sitting slumped in a folding chair outside Tommy’s office. He looked rumpled and beaten down. Hopeless.
“Rocco.”
“Jack.”
“The Man inside?”
“Yep.” Rocco sighed. “They’re not letting him leave.”
“What? What do you mean?” At my side Nemo squirmed uncomfortably.
“They got us trapped in here like rats. Tommy got a call from his Uncle Gus. He said sit tight, don’t worry, they’re gonna work it all out. That was yesterday. Then those two fuckers show up outside. Laughing their heads off, pissing in the alley. Our alley. Tommy, he’s furious. He starts calling everyone he knows. But here’s the thing: no one is calling him back.”
Nemo shook his head. “That’s not good.”
Rocco frowned. “No, it’s not. They’re letting us twist in the wind.” Rocco glared at Nemo.
The big man shifted again, moving from side to side. “Rocco. You know I’d help if I could. It’s out of my hands. I’m just a soldier, like you.”
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