Bourbon & Blood: A Crime Fiction Novel (Bill Conlin Thriller)

by Garrard Hayes

  Jimmy came into the room. No one moved for several breaths.

  “Do it now!” I screamed.

  “Whoa, what gives Bill?” Jimmy asked, peeking into the kitchen.

  “These fuckers were gonna keep the money and kill us. It’s another one of Kenny’s twisted games,” I said.

  “That’s fucking crazy. Why would they do that?” Jimmy asked.

  “Cause Kenny’s a crazy money hungry bastard,” I replied.

  “Take the keys and the shotgun and go start the van. We’re going for a little ride.”

  “Okay, Bill” he said.

  “Let’s go guys,” I said.

  “We’re not going anywhere with you asshole,” Viktor shouted.

  I walked over, tossed the table and shot him in the knee. He howled in pain, as blood soaked his pants. He lay on the floor clutching his injured leg, and rocked in pain, grunting.

  The girls in the living room started screaming to Viktor in Russian, but he was unable to answer. I heard the front door slam as one girl ran out into the hallway screeching with fear. Our time here was at an end and we had to leave fast.

  “You’re a dead man! A dead man!” Viktor bellowed.

  Mikhail backed up against the wall without making a sound. I pointed the gun at his face. “You carry Viktor out to the van.” When he didn’t move, I yelled, “Pick him up now or I’ll put a fucking hole in your face.”

  Mikhail put his arm under Viktor and around his back and lifted him off the floor. They slowly walked towards the door while I followed behind, grenade still in hand.

  “If you’re thinking about getting stupid, remember, I drop this we all die,” I reminded them.

  The girls in the living room screamed and pressed themselves against the far wall. Two girls began crying and holding onto each other. We walked out of the apartment and into the dark hallway. I stayed a few steps behind as Mikhail dragged Viktor out of the building. Mikhail stopped every few yards to get a better grip on Viktor. As we came out Jimmy jumped out of the driver’s door.

  “Wow, he’s bleeding a lot,” he said, nervously.

  “Open the back of the van, quickly.”

  Jimmy went to the back of the van and opened both doors. I told them to get in, and ordered Mikhail to tie Viktor’s hands behind his back using some wire that was in the van. He paused to look around and I jabbed him in the back of the head with the nose of the gun.

  “Now tie his ankles.”

  “Jimmy, come tie up Mikhail. Hurry the fuck up,” I barked.

  He tied Mikhail’s hands behind his back and wrapped the wire around his ankles.

  I climbed into the back of the van and bent over Viktor. “Where is the girl?”

  He was barely conscious, but still managed to say, “Fuck you!”

  I smacked him with the bottom of the pistol and he immediately passed out.

  “Okay Mikhail, it’s your turn. Where’s the girl?”

  He spat in my face. I raised the gun to hit him then stopped. He closed his eyes tight, anticipating the coming blow. I took hold of two of his fingers and pulled them back. The tension released with a snap as bones broke like dry tree branches. He screamed in pain.

  “Where is the girl?” I asked again.

  He shouted at me in Russian, spittle dripping onto the van floor. I held another finger. “Still not ready, aye?”

  “I don’t know, please don’t,” he pleaded.

  Again I pulled his finger back until I heard the crack. He grunted and panted, breathing hard while trying to suppress the pain.

  “I’m gonna brake every finger until you tell me, fucker,” I hissed.

  “No, no, I can’t. They will kill me,” he said.

  “I’m the one that’s gonna kill you right here,” I said, pressing the gun in back of his knee.

  He winced, anticipating the bullet. “Okay, okay. Don’t shoot, I’ll tell you. Kenny is hiding her at his apartment.”

  “That motherfucker!” I yelled, with a mixture of shock and rage. I staggered out of the van. “Gag them,” I barked at Jimmy.

  He grabbed duct tape off the rack and put it across their mouths. Both men were laying face down moaning on the van floor. I slammed the van’s back door. “We have to get these guys to Morgan. I promised not to kill Viktor without permission.”

  “Permission? What do you mean?” He asked.

  “That’s what he said. I’m not fucking this up, just get in the van.”

  Jimmy climbed into the driver’s seat and I got in on the passenger side. I held up the grenade and carefully put the pin back in. Jimmy’s face went white as he held his breath, eyes wide with terror. When the pin was back in place he gasped and wiped sweat from his face.

  “Get us back to the city fast,” I said, as I took out my cell phone.

  “You got it brother.” He nosed the van into the street.

  I called Morgan’s number. After three rings he picked up.

  “What’s going on?” he said.

  “Remember our last chat? I need your approval on one of my projects. Can you meet me now?” I asked.

  “I’m at the hospital, but I’ll meet you where we had our chat. I’m leaving now. Stay outside and wait for my call.” Jimmy drove up 108th Street and took the ramp onto the Long Island Expressway. We headed west, opting to take the 59th Street Bridge to avoid tolls and cops.

  Jimmy drove south on Second Avenue and made a right onto 35th Street. We parked on a side street near Ninth Avenue.

  “Jimmy, you got cigs? I’m out,” I asked, making a smoking gesture.”

  He took out his pack of Winston and handed me the pack and his lighter.

  “Why would Kenny do that?” he asked.

  “Kenny is out of his mind. He’s been playing every angle and collecting money from the Mexicans and Russians. He sold me out to the Mexicans. Then, when they failed to kill me, he split the money with me. He probably has a deal with the Russians for part of Dana’s ransom money,” I explained.

  “Before all this started, Kenny and I ripped off the Mexican heroin dealers that got you hooked. We stole their money and dope. Gave the money to Sullivan and sold the dope to the Russians for big money. Viktor didn’t like the deal Dmitry made and wanted my share,” I said.

  “But maybe it was a set up by Kenny again,” Jimmy said. “Kenny was the one that got me hooked on heroin. He gave me free samples and told me where to find more. I was fine with drinking and cocaine.” He shook his head. “I had plenty of money to kill myself with that shit.”

  My phone went off. It was Morgan. “Can you come over and tell me what’s going on?” he asked. “Don’t bring any of your friends just yet,” he added.

  “Okay, I’ll be there shortly,” I said, and ended the call.

  I turned to Jimmy. “Drive over to McKenzie’s and park where I can see the entrance. I want to watch the front for a bit.”

  We headed over and parked up the block. We watched and waited for a while, but no one came in or out. The boys in the back started kicking against the van door.

  “Cut it fucking out or I’ll shoot both of you right here.” I shouted.

  They mumbled back at me, but the tape made it impossible to understand what they were saying. I looked over at Jimmy and noticed him tighten up on the steering wheel. His knuckles went white.

  He tilted his head to the side, in the direction of McKenzie’s. “Look.”

  I turned to look out the side window. Kenny walked up to the door and entered McKenzie’s.

  “This is fucking unbelievable. I’m going in,” I said.

  “Wait, what if this is some kind of set up?” he asked.

  “If I’m not out in thirty minutes, come get me,” I answered.

  “They’re not gonna let me take you out of there without a fight.”

  “Then you’d better get your head ready.”

  “This is gonna be bad,” he said, firing up another cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window.

  “It will only
be bad if Morgan believes Kenny’s bullshit. Keep these fuckers quiet until I come out.”

  I climbed out of the van, then hobbled across the street. As I approached the front door of McKenzie’s, a cigarette glowed cherry red in the darkness. Whelan stepped out of the shadows and stamped out his cigarette.

  “You ready for a little chat? Some things you’ve been involved in have gone south and it’s time to do some explaining,” he said, taking another step closer.

  “That’s what I’ve come to do. I have nothing to hide,” I assured him.

  Whelan opened the door and I walked into McKenzie’s, not sure I would ever come out again. He followed me in and closed the door behind us.

  The place was empty except for a couple of men drinking at one of the tables. Morgan and Kenny sat waiting in the back at Mr. Sullivan’s table. I pulled out a chair and sat down. Whelan walked past the table and into the back room. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  I nodded a greeting to Morgan. His cologne was already suffocating me, even from across the table. He was dressed in a black blazer with a black button down shirt, his hands folded in front of him.

  I turned to Kenny and he gave me a thin smile, then raised his eyebrows like this was a funny situation.

  I turned back to Morgan. “So where do we begin?”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you know?” Morgan asked.

  “I’ve been beaten within an inch of my life. I’ve had my girl kidnapped. My partner tried to kill me and steal my money.” I explained.

  Kenny looked like he was hanging on every word. As I described each event, his grin became larger, teeth showing in a full smile. He was completely amused by my accusations.

  “I’ve followed all your instructions. Can I have your approval to take out Viktor?” I asked.

  “I’ll need more information than that, Bill,” Morgan said.

  Kenny interrupted. “I told Dmitry to abort the mission. He called Mikhail when we found out that Viktor gave us a bogus address. I have all your money right here. You’re confused, Bill.”

  Whelan came out of the back and stood by Kenny. Arms crossed, his intimidating bulk casting a giant shadow on Kenny as he listened.

  “I escaped with my life,” I said.

  “See, Bill? I told you that no one was going to kill you,” Kenny said.

  “Kenny handed me over to the Russians and took the ransom money that was meant to free Dana. She wasn’t at the location where Kenny told me to pick her up. Viktor was ready to kill me and Mikhail put a shotgun to my back,” I said.

  Kenny’s smile began to fade. The color left his face and for the first time ever he looked nervous. “They weren’t supposed to hurt you,” he said. Sweat began to bead up on his forehead and roll down the side of his face.

  “Well, Kenny, I have a little surprise of my own. I’ve got a couple of your friends outside in the white van parked across the street.”

  Morgan looked up at Whelan. “Go check it out, Bran,” he said.

  Whelan walked over to the men sitting at the table and whispered something to them. Then he turned and walked out the front door. The men came over and stood by the table.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  After a while Whelan came back to the table, but he appeared from the back of the restaurant, even though he had left through the front. He leaned over to Morgan and whispered into his ear.

  Morgan stood up and walked into the back room. Whelan and the two other men stayed by the table. A few minutes later Jimmy and Morgan came out of the back.

  “Jimmy told me what happened in Queens and the story checks out. I think we need a thorough discussion about tonight’s events,” Morgan said. “Jimmy, you’re free to go,” he added.

  “I’m gonna have a couple of drinks at the bar,” Jimmy said.

  “That’s fine. Kenny and Bill, you guys head into the back so we can chat,” Morgan said.

  No one moved for what felt like five breaths. I could hear time pass as I watched eyes darting from face to face. Kenny made the first move and pulled out his gun. A sudden scuffle commenced with an explosive sound of breaking glass. Everything on the table went flying in the air. Chairs overturned and everything crashed to the floor.

  The two men jumped him, but Kenny stepped back towards Whelan and was able to get a couple of shots off. Kenny turned and shot both men, and then Whelan moved with surprising speed for a man of his size and grabbed Kenny from behind. He put his massive arms around Kenny’s neck and shoulders. Kenny struggled and kicked, but it was no use. Whelan squeezed tighter and tighter, until Kenny’s head lulled to the side, his gun dropping to the floor. Whelan released Kenny and he collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll, his dead weight making a thudding sound.

  Morgan looked at the injured men and signaled the bartender with a gesture to clean up the mess. On the floor one man was bleeding heavily from a stomach wound. The other guy was shot in the shoulder, but he must’ve hit his head on something as he fell to the floor. He was sprawled unconscious, lying next to the debris from the table.

  Whelan dragged Kenny by the arm into the back. His shoes made a screeching sound as they scuffed along the polished wooden floor.

  Morgan reached into his jacket and showed me a pistol butt in his waistband. “Come on Bill, let’s sort this out.” Then he reached over and took my gun from my waistband.

  “Alright,” I replied and followed along.

  Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Jimmy watching from the bar. We traded glances and I noticed his hands were shaking. He took a hard drag of his cigarette and knocked back the rest of his drink. The last thing I saw as we left the main room was a grimace on Jimmy’s face as he swallowed.

  We walked downstairs to the lower level, through the stock room, and down another set of narrow stairs to the basement. Viktor was tied to a chair on a plastic tarp in the middle of the room. The only light in the room came from one conical lamp hanging over his head. A circle of light illuminated only his chair, the rest of the room remained in total darkness.

  As I came off the last stair I noticed a line of chairs against the wall. Mikhail and Kenny were already sitting in the chairs, their hands and feet tied. Kenny was just starting to come around. Mikhail was staring at Whelan, terror in his eyes.

  Whelan had his back to us, but spoke as if he was facing us. He took off his jacket, folded it carefully, and placed it on the table. Hanging from his belt was a holster, but it wasn't holding a gun; a huge knife hilt protruded from it. He rolled up his sleeves, adjusted his suspenders, and focused on preparing his tools at a table. “Come on in, Billy boy, and sit down. We’ve got work to do and no one is leaving until all questions are answered.” His tone was almost joyful.

  I sat in the chair at the end of the row, leaving an empty chair between Kenny and me. Morgan came over to tie me down; I didn’t resist.

  Viktor was unconscious, his chin resting on his chest. Whelan waved smelling salt under his nose. He coughed, gagged, and awoke gasping for air. He began to mumble in Russian, then bucked, trying to break free of the ties. He stopped abruptly when Whelan walked up to him and smacked him hard in the face.

  “Speak fucking English, you Russian dog,” Whelan snapped.

  He returned to the table and took out a syringe and glass vial. Plunging the needle into the vial, Whelan carefully measured as he filled the syringe and pulled the needle out of the vial. He flicked the syringe and pushed the plunger. A small amount of liquid squirted out of the needle and into the air.

  “You’re going to feel a little sting. Then I’m going to ask you a few questions. If you’re good, it will be quick, otherwise I can assure you that your death will be a slow and painful one,” he said.

  Viktor took a deep breath through clenched teeth as Whelan injected him with the serum. After a few minutes Viktor stopped struggling against his bonds.

  “Where is Billy’s girl?”

  “She wasn’t in the apartment when we grabbed Bill. I only wanted the money,
” he answered in a sleepy voice.

  “What money?”

  “One hundred thousand from the drugs we bought from Bill and Kenny.”

  “Why do you want that money?”

  “Dmitry was an idiot. We paid way too much and I wanted halfback. Kenny told me where to find Bill. We were going to rob and release him, but he wouldn’t talk.”

  “Who shot Mr. Sullivan?”

  “I didn’t know he was shot. When did it happen?”

  “Come on, son. You were doing so well. Don’t ruin it,” Whelan said. “Who shot Mr. Sullivan?”

  “I don’t know anything about that.”

  Whelan turned to the table, picked up a tool, and then stood in front of Viktor, blocking our view. Viktor started screaming and bucking against the chair. Bloody bits dropped to the floor at his feet. Whelan stepped back to the table and put down the tool. Several fingers on Viktor’s left hand were bleeding. He whimpered and panted as Whelan busied himself at the table.

  “Okay boyo, I’m gonna ask you again. Who shot Sullivan?”

  “Ask Kenny. I don’t know anything,” Viktor replied.

  “Why would Kenny know?” Whelan asked.

  “Word on the street is that Kenny has many pans in the fire,” said Viktor.

  “Ah, so you do know something?” the big man said.

  “No, no please. I don’t know. I don’t know anything,” he pleaded.

  Whelan stood in front of Viktor again, the screaming louder this time as he begged for him to stop. Bloody fingernails littered the floor, tapping as they hit the plastic tarp under the chair.

  “Go easy on yourself, son. It’s not worth it.”

  “No more, no more. I don’t know,” Viktor begged.

  “Tell me what you know about Kenny’s activities,” Whelan said.

  “He… He’s in with us, and told the Mexicans...” Viktor said trailing off.

  “Okay, so you’re still holding out on me, aye?” he asked in a menacing tone.

  Viktor shook his head frantically. He looked around for some kind of escape, but there was no hope. Whelan grabbed a pair of pliers off the table and straddled Viktor. An awful scream came out of Viktor that was not a human sound. Viktor tried to shake him off to no avail. Whelan pulled out four of Viktor’s front teeth, one at a time. The bloody teeth dropped to the floor, bouncing as they hit the tarp.