“Simple. You help Tommy get the money.”
“And then Little Vito and I are square?”
“That’s right.”
“And Eddie and I … what’s our cut?”
“You get no cut. I know, I know. But you get to live.”
I looked over at Eddie. He nodded. I nodded back. “We’ll take it.”
I walked up Spadina toward Kensington Market. There was a light on in Suzanne’s window. I called her from a payphone, walked back to her place, and rang the buzzer.
She opened the door and she looked beautiful. Dark hair sleep-tousled, one hand holding closed a short white robe. We hugged, kissed, and headed upstairs.
I padded across the living room shag in my stocking feet while I filled Suzanne in.
“So that’s the situation. We’ve got twenty grand, but that’s all we’ve got.”
Suzanne shook her head and smiled. “I don’t care about the money. What’s money? As long as we’re alive, we can make more money.” She leaned toward me. I went in for the kiss.
The windows exploded. I grabbed Suzanne and dove for the floor as bullets whined through the air and punched into the walls.
“Stay down.”
“Jack —”
“STAY DOWN!”
I army-crawled toward the shattered windows. A black Cadillac roared off down the street and squealed around a corner. I leapt to my feet and brushed glass from my pants.
Then I stopped dead in my tracks.
Suzanne was lying on the floor clutching her arm, her blood soaking the shag.
“Jack …”
“You’re going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.” I willed my voice to be calm as I tied the tourniquet. Inside I was raging.
Suzanne’s teeth chattered as she went into shock.
I tossed a paisley blanket on top of her. “I’ll be right back.”
“Don’t go.
“Just sit tight. Don’t move. You’re going to be okay.”
“They could come back.”
“No. Whoever was in that car, they won’t be back tonight.”
“But they could come back.” Suzanne thrust out her jaw. “Get me my gun.”
“I’ll be back, okay? Just sit tight.”
Suzanne reached out and caught my leg with her good hand. “My gun.”
I didn’t want to argue. I gave her the gun. She cradled it to her chest like a teddy bear.
I left her there wrapped in a blanket clutching her gun. I plowed through Kensington Market, pushing past shocked hippies with guitars and Jamaican fishmongers. A crowd was gathering, pointing up toward Suzanne’s shot-out windows.
On College Street I stopped at a payphone in front of a convenience store.
“Eddie. I need your help. NOW.”
________
Grim-faced, Eddie drove us to Doc Warner’s. She was a good doctor and she didn’t ask questions. She had a modern sterilized office on Bloor Street atop a travel agency and next door to a massage parlour. Doc had a legitimate practice: botox mostly. Getting rich by feeding off other women’s insecurities. She didn’t see it that way. “I’m helping people look their best. A little confidence goes a long way.”
Who knew there’d be big bucks in pumping would-be socialites’ lips full of botulism toxin?
Doc found a vein and set up her morphine bag. Suzanne was sweating, her eyes rolling back. “She’s in shock, Doc.”
“Here.” Doc Warner threw me another blanket. I wrapped it around Suzanne’s trembling body.
Suzanne’s hand clenched mine. I sat grimly staring as Doc Warner cut into Suzanne’s flesh and probed for the bullet. Blood bubbled around the wound. Suzanne gasped. “You’re doing great, baby.” In my mind I had Suzanne’s shooter cornered in an alley. He whimpered like a dog as I closed in.
We took Suzanne to Eddie’s aunt’s, and then Eddie drove me back to the safe house. Along the way I told him what I knew, and after that we didn’t say anything.
At the safe house I practically kicked down the door. In the hallway Willie leapt to his feet, a gun in his hand. He saw me and looked wary. Then he spotted Eddie, smiled, and holstered his gun.
“Where’s Tommy?”
Willie pointed down the hallway toward the bedroom. I stomped down the hallway and smashed open the bedroom door.
Tommy jerked awake and lunged for the gun on the nightstand. I swept the gun onto the floor and yanked Tommy, screaming, out of bed. I slapped him twice, hard. “Shut the fuck up!”
“Jack?”
“No, it’s the fucking Tooth Fairy. Get dressed.”
“What the fuck? What’s going on?”
“You and I are going fishing.”
“What?”
“Eight hundred thousand, Tommy. We’re going to get that money right fucking now.”
“Eight —? What?”
I slapped him again, hard. “I said GET FUCKING DRESSED!”
Tommy sulkily scooped up his pants. “So that’s it, Jack. You’re ripping me off. And after all I’ve done for you.”
My fists clenched. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to shove Tommy’s head right through the fucking wall.
“It’s not for me, it’s for Vito. It’s your fucking exit fee. Don’t say anything. That’s the price, end of story.”
“This is bullshit.”
I punched Tommy in the face and he went down, sprawled across the bed. He looked up at me towering over him, blood dripping from his mouth, eyes wide with fear.
“You think that’s bullshit? Do you? I’ll tell you what’s fucking bullshit. Having to bail you out, again and again. Because of you Suzanne almost died. That’s right, she got shot tonight. She almost fucking died.” I hauled Tommy up and shoved him toward the door. “Let’s go.”
________
In the passenger seat Tommy touched his swollen lip. “You shouldn’t have hit me, Jack.”
In the back seat I didn’t say anything. He was right. I lost my cool. In my line of work, if you lose your temper, you could end up dead.
Eddie stared through his sunglasses straight ahead, through the windshield. “Where to?”
Tommy sulked. “I don’t know. Why should I trust you guys? You’ve been trying to shake money out of me all week.”
For fuck’s sake. I leaned forward and hissed, “I’m through playing games. From now on we’re playing by my rules. Here’s how it works: you tell us where the money is. We go get the money. We give the money to Little Vito, then you hop on a plane to parts unknown. That’s it — end of story.”
Tommy twisted and fidgeted. “Yeah, well … it’s not that easy, you know? All that money … it’s invested, you know? It’s tied up. Operating capital and whatnot. That cash greases the skids of a lot of operations. There’s going to be plenty of people pissed off to see that money disappear.”
“You let me worry about that.” I wanted to reach forward and slice Tommy’s throat. I wanted to push his bleeding, bleating body out of this moving car and into a trash-strewn ravine. “As you might recall, I’m pretty shit-hot when it comes to collections. Now answer Eddie’s question.”
Tommy tried another tack. “Jack. Jack. I’m sorry. Why are you talking to me like this? I didn’t shoot your girlfriend. Come on, man … I thought we were friends.”
“Answer Eddie’s question.”
Tommy slumped back in his seat. “Turn left.”
We drove and kept driving, heading north and then west. Portuguese bakeries appeared outside my window. A group of kids loitered outside a KFC. A stumpy old woman dressed all in black limped along the sidewalk.
Tommy pointed. “Stop here.”
“Here?” Eddie pulled over and reached for the ignition. I reached forward and stopped his hand.
“Keep it running.”
I stepped out of the car and stood in front of a rundown pool hall with blacked-out windows. A hand-lettered sign pinned to the door read MEMBERS ONLY. I popped open Tommy’s door. “Come on … get ou
t.”
Tommy looked nervous. “Yeah, uh … you know, Jack, maybe you should handle this.”
“Don’t you worry. I’m going to fucking handle it. Now quit dicking around and get out of the car.”
At the door I knocked three times. The peephole slid open.
“Yeah?”
I pushed Tommy forward. “Talk.”
“It’s Tommy. Come on, open up.”
The eye in the peephole darted left and right. Deadbolts clanked and the door creaked open.
Inside, the pool hall was murky and dark. Shapes came into focus as my eyes adjusted. Directly in front of us was a long, tall man with a fedora and a trim goatee. Behind him were three pool tables and a long mahogany bar. A group of three men holding pool cues stood mutely around one of the tables.
Goatee jerked his chin at me. “Who’s this guy?”
“That’s Jack. He’s my bodyguard.”
Goatee leaned closer, staring at Tommy’s busted lip. “Doesn’t look like he’s doing a very good job.”
“This? Naw, naw. It’s fine, it’s nothing. I fell down. Don’t worry about it. Tomasso around?”
Goatee nodded and tilted his head. “In the back.”
Tommy and I walked into the murk. The three toughs playing pool stared at us as we passed.
At the back of the club was a brown door. Tommy knocked twice and then twice more. A muffled voice shouted out, “Come on in!”
This place was a study of contrasts. The pool hall was murky and grim, but this room was well-lit and comfortable. Framed prints hung on the red-orange walls. A plush black leather couch sat facing two black leather easy chairs. Classical music was playing from hidden speakers. A big man with silver hair rose smiling from behind a massive oak desk.
“Tommy! How are you, my friend?” The big man was wearing a charcoal-grey sport jacket and slacks. His shoes were buffed to a fine sheen. His fingernails were manicured. Impeccable. Probably had a humidor full of imported cigars and a cellar full of vintage wine.
Tommy and the big man kissed each other’s cheeks. Tommy gestured to me. “Tomasso, this is my bodyguard Jack.”
The big man’s hand squeezed mine like he was crushing walnuts. “Jack. So good to meet you.” Tomasso turned back toward Tommy. “Enrique didn’t offer you a drink?” Tomasso tsk-tsked. “A glass of wine? A nice port?”
“Forget it, T. This is a business call.”
“Of course, of course.” Tomasso ushered us toward the easy chairs and then took a seat on the couch. “What can we do for you today?”
Tommy hunkered down in one of the easy chairs and then leaned forward intently. “T, you know me. I’ve never been a bullshitter. Am I right?”
“This is true.”
“Well, I’m not going to bullshit you now. I need money, and lots of it.”
Tomasso laughed. “A common problem.”
“Yeah, well … it’s your problem now.”
The big man frowned. “Forgive me. I’m not sure I understand.”
“We’ve sunk a lot of dough into your operation over the years. Now it’s time to pay us back.”
Tomasso shook his head. “Tommy, Tommy … this is highly unorthodox. Your father —”
“Never mind my father. My father is dead.”
“And we were sorry to hear about your loss. Still, there are ways of doing business.”
Tommy nodded. “Yeah.” Suddenly there was a gun in his hand. “Here’s one of them.”
Tomasso sat in shock, frozen on the couch. Finally he shook his head. “They said you were having problems … I never realized it was so bad.”
Tommy jabbed the gun forward. “Who? Who said that? Fuckin’ liars. Now open the safe.”
Behind Tommy’s chair I was standing with one eye on Tommy and another on Tomasso. Once again Tommy had blindsided me. Where the fuck did he get that gun?
Tomasso frowned. “This is bad, Tommy. Very bad.”
“It’s gonna get a lot worse if you don’t open that safe. Help him up, Jack.”
I did it. So help me, I strode over to Tomasso and hauled him to his feet. The big man was solid, muscular. He smelled like oranges.
Tomasso wouldn’t shut up. “Think about what you’re doing. This is madness.”
I slapped his sunglasses across the room, punched him in the belly and hauled him toward the safe.
“Open it.”
“You don’t know who you’re dealing with.”
I smashed his face into the squat grey safe. Tomasso moaned.
“Open it.”
Tommy stepped forward, sneering behind his gun. “I’ll take it from here. Why don’t you go play a little pool?”
Yeah. I let the big man drop and slipped out the door.
Goatee was waiting for me. “Everything all right in there?”
“Yeah, sure.” I cocked my head over to one of the pool tables. “How about a game?” I picked out a pool cue, checked the heft, and started to chalk the tip.
Goatee frowned. “What did you say your name was?”
I brought the pool cue down on Goatee’s head. He went down hard, banging his face off the edge of the pool table. Instantly the three toughs closed in. One of them, short and squat like a bulldog, charged forward. I slammed the butt of the pool cue into his stomach and then struck upward, smashing his chin. The other two circled, holding their cues like swords. I grinned and beckoned them closer.
Wood met flesh. Blood and teeth and bits of scalp splattered the walls. Pool cues clattered to the floor. I threw my own splintered cue onto the ground next to the four unconscious men.
“The name’s Jack,” I told them. “Jack Palace.”
Back in the back room I half expected to see Tommy shot through the head, but no, the situation was under control. Tomasso was on his knees, pulling banded stacks of dirty twenties and hundreds from the safe and piling them into a red duffel bag. Tomasso talked as he worked, his voice low and reassuring.
“People make mistakes. I understand. You’re lucky it’s me and not one of my brothers. Me, I’m the forgiving sort. I understand your situation. Desperate people do desperate things. But there are other ways we can deal with this. We —”
I strode over and kicked Tomasso in the face. “Shut up.”
Tomasso shut up.
Tommy crouched down and zipped up the duffel bag. Tomasso crouched on the floor of his office, hands clutching his broken jaw. Tommy shouted, “You see? You see what happens? You should’ve just given me the fucking money!” Tommy raised the gun. I had just enough time to shout “No!” before the gun went off.
Back in the car Tommy was zinging, hopped up on adrenalin and death. “Did you see the look in that fucker’s eyes? Ha ha ha!”
I felt sick. There was a grey blob of Tomasso’s brain stuck on the tip of my shoe. I pointed straight ahead into the night. “Drive.”
Eddie gunned the engine and the car slid forward. He didn’t say anything and neither did I. Tommy kept crowing. He was the greatest, he was the toughest, nobody better fuck with him. Just to change the subject, I said “Where to next?” All I wanted to do was go back to the office, drink four or five ice-cold beers, and have a long, hot shower.
Tommy laughed. “Yeah! Next! Next we go get some more motherfucking money and shoot some more motherfucking people. That’s the way to do it, eh, Jack?”
“You didn’t have to shoot him, Tommy.”
“Bullshit! You think I want that guy coming after us? Fuck him and his whole operation. Come on, Jack … I thought you’d be proud of me. We got the money, didn’t we?”
“How much?”
Tommy peered into the bag. “Looks like a hundred grand, more or less.”
“We need more.”
Tommy grinned. He looked like a gargoyle. “That’s what I’m talking about! Bang bang, stick ’em up!”
Jesus fucking Christ. I couldn’t do this.
“Eddie.”
“Yeah?”
“Who’s that guy who keep
s bugging you for more jobs?”
“Who, my cousin Eric?”
“Yeah. Give him a call. Tell him it’s his lucky fucking day.”
Tommy chattered away in the front seat. I peeled a Kleenex from the box under the passenger seat and cleaned brains off my shoe. Soon, I thought, sinking into the soft leather seats. Soon all this shit will be over.
CHAPTER 52
I jerked awake on the couch, fully clothed, all lights blazing. Across the room on my desk the plant looked sad. Someone was knocking on the door — two knocks, then three, then one. Eddie. My bones cracked as I stood. Getting too old for this shit.
“Eddie.”
Eddie’s hand snaked through the doorframe. “Phone for you. It’s Suzanne.”
“Is she —?”
“She’s fine. She’s still at my aunt’s house.”
I took the phone and rubbed my eyes. Eddie’s voice floated in from the hallway. “You want some breakfast?”
“Yeah. Scotch.”
I settled into the chair behind my desk and put the phone to my ear. “Suzanne.”
“Jack. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me. How are you doing?”
“Who shot me?”
“Vito’s guys, most likely. They were aiming for me.”
Silence on the other end. “Jack. Let’s leave tonight. Let’s just pack up and go.”
“Soon, babe, soon. Say hi to Aunt Cecilia.”
I said goodbye and hung up the phone as Eddie walked in with a tray full of food.
“Here you go, Jack. Toast and oatmeal. It’s good for you.”
“Where the hell is the Scotch?”
Eddie frowned. “I thought you were kidding.”
A smile cracked across my lips. “I was.” Was I? “Thanks for breakfast.”
I dug in. Eddie plopped down on the couch. The springs groaned.
“Any word from Tommy?”
“That’s funny,” I said with my mouth full of oatmeal. “I was just about to ask you the same question.”
“Eric’s not answering his cellphone.”
“Maybe he had to ditch it.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Eddie stared out the window. “I don’t trust Tommy.”
I swallowed orange juice. “That’s because you’re a smart man, Eddie.” My chair scraped against the linoleum as I stood up. “Let me call him.”
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