Double Espresso (A Loretta Kovacs thriller)

by Anthony Bruno

  Sammy glanced at his guns, thrown by the question. “What do you think I’m gonna do? I’m gonna blow you away.”

  “You’re gonna blow your nose, that’s what you’re gonna do.”

  Sammy was insulted. “What’re you talking about?”

  Rispoli made a sour face. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You don’t bring guns like that to a hit. You’ll make so much noise, the cops’ll be here in no time.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You gotta show power when you do a hit. You gotta establish dominance. Show the person who’s getting whacked that you mean business, that you’re not gonna take any crap.”

  “You mean you talk to ’em?” Rispoli was totally disgusted with Sammy. “What kind of person are you? You never talk to ’em. You bring a little gun—a twenty-two or a twenty-five—and you just shoot ’em. Period. No talking.”

  “I’m talking to you now, ain’t I?” Sammy said.

  “Which just goes to show what a jerk you are.”

  “Oh, I’m a jerk? I’m holding a gun on you, and I’m the jerk. This just goes to show what kind of an idiot you are. No wonder Taffy wants you dead.”

  Rispoli pressed his lips together and shook his head. “What the hell’s wrong with you? You never mention the client’s name, not when there’s other people around.” He pointed at Loretta and Alan. “Now you gotta kill them, too. You know that, don’tcha?”

  “I know that. What do you think, I’m stupid? I’ll get to them.” Sammy shook one of his guns at Loretta and Alan, who cringed and covered his face with his arms. Loretta stayed still, conscious of her hands in her lap and the gun on her ankle. Her heart was hammering in her chest, but she wasn’t showing it.

  “So whattaya waiting for?” Rispoli yelled. “We gonna talk all day, maybe have a little tea party? Come on, get on with it. I hate people who drag their asses.”

  Sammy’s teeth were clenched. Rispoli was getting under his skin. “I’m not dragging my ass, old man.”

  “Who you calling old? Me? I’ll kick your ass any day.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Sammy took an abrupt step toward Rispoli, jabbing his guns into the space between them.

  Loretta decided it was time to act. While Sammy was focused on Rispoli, she reached down for her gun, pulling up her pant leg and ripping the Velero apart as she swiveled around in the desk chair at the same time.

  But the Velero was stronger than she expected, and she fumbled with the holster. Suddenly she felt cold steel pressing into her scalp.

  “Bad move,” Sammy said. “Take off the gun and throw it in the corner. And don’t try anything dumb.”

  She had no choice but to do what he said, bending over and sliding the gun along the hardwood floor until it banged against the floorboard.

  “Now sit up straight,” he ordered, “and put your hands on top of your head.”

  She sat up and linked her fingers over her head. Sammy was standing over her, his arms stretched as far as they could, one gun on Loretta, the other on Rispoli. His nostrils were flaring, and his bare arms were tight and sinewy as he whipped his head back and forth, making sure neither of them did anything strange. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Alan. He was so jittery he looked like a blur.

  Loretta tried to control her breathing so she could calm down and talk straight. “Sammy,” she said, swallowing hard, “can we talk about this for a minute?”

  He shook his head and flashed a tight grin. “I’m afraid not, honey bunny.”

  24

  “Come on, Sammy. Just hear me out,” Loretta said.

  Sammy’s arm was ramrod stiff, the gun motionless in her face. “No-o-o-o-o,” he said, dragging it out as if he were blowing a smoke ring. The guy was as nutsy as Marvelli had said.

  “Whattaya talking to him for?” Rispoli shouted. “He’s a dummy.”

  “Will you shut up!” Loretta snapped. “You’re just making this worse.”

  Sammy grinned, looking at Rispoli sideways. “Nyah, nyah, nyah-nyah, nyah,” Sammy taunted, happy to see his target being reprimanded.

  “I just want to tell you one thing,” Loretta said to Sammy, stalling for time.

  “I don’t want to hear one thing,” Sammy replied. “I don’t want to hear any things. Not out of you.”

  Alan was still sitting next to Loretta, his trembling hands clenched over his head.

  “Hey, you wanna see something really neat?” Sammy asked him. “Get on-line and find www dot samtheman—that’s all one word—dot com.”

  Alan gulped. “What’s that?” he asked.

  “My web site.”

  “You’ve got a web site?” Alan asked in disbelief.

  “Hey, why not? I’ve got a business. I’ve got to advertize.” Sammy wiggled one of his automatics at Alan. “Go ahead. Get online. WWW dot samtheman dot com.”

  Alan swiveled around in his chair, got on-line, and typed out the address. After a minute Sammy’s web site started to materialize on screen. “Had Enough?” the headline said. “Why Not Just Eliminate Your Problem(s)?”

  A picture of a coffin appeared under the headline.

  Alan scrolled down to the text. “Have it your way,” it said. “I’ll do it any way you want. Your wish is my command. Custom work is my specialty. Competitive rates and all work is guaranteed. Disappearances available upon request for an additional fee. If you’re finally fed up, contact me at samtheman@firewall.com.”

  Alan’s hands were rattling the keyboard he was so nervous.

  “Real killers don’t take out ads,” Rispoli grumbled from across the room.

  “Oh, yeah?” Sammy widened his eyes at Rispoli. “I’ve gotten jobs off that web site. Good ones.”

  “You wouldn’t know a good one if it bit you in the ass.”

  “This is a good one,” Sammy replied smugly.

  “Yeah? How much is Taffy paying you?”

  “Plenty.”

  “How much?”

  “Thirty grand.”

  “Ha! Chump change!” Rispoli said. “When I was working, I didn’t leave the house for less than fifty.” Loretta was shocked to see Rispoli so happy. She didn’t think that face was capable of smiling.

  “Yeah, but there are bonuses with this one,” Sammy said.

  “Bonuses? What bonuses? What’s he giving you? Blue Cross and Blue Shield?”

  Sammy started to reply, then changed his mind. He relaxed his face and just shrugged. “Believe what you want to believe, old man. No matter how you cut it, your time’s up. Meter expired.” He squinted one eye and sighted down the barrel of the automatic aimed at Rispoli.

  “Wait!” Loretta blurted.

  “Why?” Sammy asked calmly, his attention still focused on Rispoli who was glaring at his executioner like an unrepentant crab.

  “You don’t know the whole story, Sammy.”

  “I don’t need to know any more stories. I am the story.”

  Loretta was breathing hard. Sammy was going to do it. She glanced at her gun on the floor against the wall, but it was too far away.

  “Say good-bye, Gus,” Sammy said with a chuckle.

  Loretta glanced at Alan, but he wasn’t going to be any help. He was shaking like a garbage bag full of Jell-O.

  Sammy lowered his barrel and took aim at Rispoli’s chest, carefully picking his spot.

  “Wait!” Loretta shouted. It was time to play her ace. “Taffy’s got Jennifer,” she said.

  Sammy froze for a second, looking from Rispoli to Loretta. Slowly he lowered the gun on Rispoli and raised the one aimed at Loretta, turning his head around to face her. The look of contained rage on his face was terrifying. “What’re you talking about?”

  Loretta forced herself to get the words out coherently. “Taffy Demaggio kidnapped your wife and your mother-in-law—”

  “Ex-mother-in-law,” Sammy corrected.

  “Taffy wants Gus,” she continued. “He wants to trade the women for him. You can’t kill him, Sammy.”

  Sammy
’s face was suddenly an awful shade of gray, and Rispoli was laughing so hard he almost rolled off the futon. “Some contract,” Rispoli said between snorts. “Taffy’s trying to screw you, my friend. He trades for me, then he kills me himself, and there goes your payday, Sammy-boy. I hope you haven’t spent those thirty Gs yet.” Rispoli was laughing so hard he could hardly speak.

  But Loretta stayed focused on Sammy’s face. The man was crestfallen, but he wasn’t putting down his guns.

  “Look, Sammy,” she said, piecing together a plan on the fly, “let’s work together on this. We’ll help you get Jennifer back. Annette, too. Just put the guns away.”

  Sammy’s hands were limp, but his fingers were still on the triggers. Loretta wasn’t even sure that he’d heard her.

  “Jennifer,” he breathed with a catch in his voice. “My Jennifer …”

  Loretta’s heart went out to him, but all she could think was that if Sammy rescued Jennifer, she might get back together with him and stop buzzing around Marvelli. It was a hell of a thing to think right now, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t want Marvelli getting together with Jennifer.

  “Hey! Hey!” Rispoli barked. “You, Mr. Hit Man, snap out of it. You ain’t gonna save your wife with tears, big boy.”

  Sammy could barely raise his voice above a whisper. “What’re you saying?”

  “What I’m saying is, if we put our heads together, maybe we can take care of this Taffy situation. If you’re for real, that is, which I’m not yet convinced of.”

  Sammy was squinting, trying to understand. “You saying we should do Taffy?”

  “Sure. Why not? He ain’t doing me any good alive. And who knows what he’s doing with your wife? You know how he is with broads.”

  “Shut up!” Sammy shouted. “Just shut up!”

  Rispoli showed his palms in conciliation. “No offense, pal. But you obviously know what I’m talking about.”

  Sammy’s teeth were clenched, and his brow was beaded with sweat.

  “So whattaya think?” Rispoli said. “You wanna do it or not? It’s up to you.”

  “I …” Sammy scratched his head with the butt of one of the automatics. “I don’t know. I need to think.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t think too long,” Rispoli said. “Taffy’s not gonna sit still waiting for you.”

  Loretta wished Rispoli weren’t so blunt. Sammy still had his fingers on those triggers.

  Sammy was kneading his temples with the butts of his guns. “I wish I had a cup of coffee,” he moaned.

  “I’ll make a pot,” Alan quickly volunteered, springing up from his seat.

  “I’ll go with you,” Rispoli said ominously, getting up from the futon. “Just in case you decide to call nine-one-one.” He followed Alan out of the room.

  Sammy flopped down onto the futon, his face crumpling as if he were about to burst into tears.

  Loretta felt awful for him. She wanted to do something for him, but she didn’t know what.

  “Jennifer,” he moaned. “Jennifer.”

  “They’re making coffee,” she said, not knowing what else to say.

  “Jennifer,” he whispered desperately, his eyes squeezed shut. A lump formed in Loretta’s throat as she blinked back tears of her own. “And make some decaf, too,” she called out to the kitchen. She needed something.

  25

  Marvelli was still stewing over Special Agent Springer showing up at the aquarium as he climbed the worn marble steps to Alan Winslow’s apartment. He was convinced Springer was dirty, but how dirty? Was she just doing the typical fed thing, trying to run the show so that she could take all the credit in the end? Or did it go deeper than that? Could she really be working for Taffy? And if she was, why?

  Marvelli rounded the bannister and headed for Alan’s door at the rear of the building. He knocked twice out of courtesy, then twisted the knob and let himself in. There was no one in the living room, but he could hear voices coming from the computer room.

  “No, no, no,” he could hear Gus Rispoli saying. “That’s crap. It’ll never work.”

  “Sure, it will. All we need is a good strong tranquilizer, like the stuff they use on rhinos, and an umbrella. You put the tranquilizer in a syringe and attach it to the end of the umbrella. When we see Taffy out on the street, we stick him in the butt with the syringe, and in two minutes he’ll be out like a light. I’m telling you, this works. Back in the seventies, an East German spy used poison in an umbrella to kill this British guy. In London I think it was. I read about it in a book.”

  “You know what you can do with your damn books, don’t you?” Rispoli snarled.

  Marvelli walked through the doorway and his eyes shot open when he saw Sammy. He thought he’d recognized that nutball’s voice.

  Marvelli instinctively reached inside his jacket for his gun but felt nothing but hip. His gun was in the trunk of the rental car. He never liked carrying a weapon and seldom did. Besides, he was a lousy shot.

  “Loretta!” he said in a stage whisper as he pointed at Sammy. “That’s him. Get your gun.”

  Loretta waved him off. “It’s okay,” she said. “Calm down.”

  Marvelli gave her a look. What did she mean, it was okay? It wasn’t okay. It was Sammy!

  “Hey, Frankie, how ya doing?” Sammy stood up and extended his hand. “It’s been a long time.” He took Marvelli’s hand and started pumping it.

  Marvelli looked at Loretta. “Where am I? The Twilight Zone?”

  “Yeah, I know,” Sammy said. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, I was supposed to be killing this guy over here”—he jerked his thumb at Rispoli—“and now we’re working together. Life is strange, isn’t it?”

  Marvelli tightened his grip on his ex-brother-in-law’s hand. He wasn’t going to let him go.

  “Hey, chill out, man. You’re hurting me. I work with that hand.” Sammy tried to pull out of Marvelli’s grip, but Marvelli was too strong.

  Marvelli’s expression was grim. “Somebody explain to me what’s going on,” he said.

  “Excuse me.” Alan popped his head in through the doorway. “Regular or decaf?” he asked Marvelli.

  “What?”

  “Coffee? You want regular or decaf? Or would you rather have tea?”

  Marvelli shook his head in confusion. “I don’t know. Regular.”

  “Milk and sugar?” “Sure.”

  “You got it. I’m just gonna run down to the bakery and get some tarts. They make great tarts. I already told everybody else.” Alan raced out into the hallway and out the front door.

  “Tarts?” Marvelli looked at Loretta. “What the hell is he talking about?”

  “He was raving about the tarts,” she said matter-of-factly. “Best tarts in the world. Raspberry, lemon, and pecan.”

  “Pecan?” Marvelli loosened his grip on Sammy’s hand. He loved pecan pie.

  Sammy yanked his hand away, working his sore fingers and knuckles. “I forgot how strong you were,” Sammy muttered. “Anyway,” he said, “why don’t you sit down, Frankie? Maybe you can help us out here. We’re trying to figure out the best way to get Jennifer and Annette back. We thought about using Gus here for the trade, just the way Taffy wants. Gus could hide a little gun on his body and then take out Taffy soon as he gets the chance. Only problem is, Gus doesn’t like that idea.”

  Rispoli was shaking his head. “I ain’t sticking no gun up my butt, I don’t care how small it is. Anyway, it won’t go down the way you think. Taffy’s got no intention of ever giving those women back. They’ve seen him. They’re witnesses. They gotta go.”

  Marvelli stopped breathing for a second. He knew Rispoli was right.

  Sammy was unfazed by logic. “So the other thing I was figuring,” he said, “we kidnap Taffy and use him for the trade.”

  “You wanna kidnap Taffy?” Marvelli said in disbelief. “What’re you, crazy? That’s against the law. We can’t let you do that.” He looked to Loretta for support, but she was looking up at the ceil
ing, making like she wasn’t hearing any of this.

  “Don’t be a friggin’ boy scout, Marvelli,” Rispoli croaked. “Taffy’s a dangerous character. You know that.”

  Marvelli did know that, and that’s what was worrying him. Taffy wouldn’t think twice about killing Jennifer and Annette. “All right,” he said, “hypothetically, even if we did look the other way, how would you find Taffy?”

  “That’s the big problem,” Sammy said, nodding gravely. “Where the hell is he? You got any ideas?”

  Go ask Agent Springer, Marvelli thought bitterly, but he held his tongue. He had to talk to Loretta about this alone.

  “We figure Taffy’s staying at one of the nicer hotels downtown,” Sammy said. “That’s his style. He wouldn’t hole up in a motel outside of town or anything like that. That’s not Taffy.”

  “Right,” Rispoli added. “Taffy always goes first-class all the way.”

  “That doesn’t narrow it down very much,” Marvelli said. “There are plenty of nice hotels in Seattle. What we need to do is lure him out.”

  “How?” Rispoli was skeptical.

  “With something he can’t resist.” Marvelli plopped down on the futon next to Rispoli. “Does Taffy have any passions, a hobby, anything like that? Is there something that’s guaranteed to get his attention?”

  Rispoli and Sammy responded simultaneously: “Broads.”

  “Oh,” Marvelli said. “Well, I guess Seattle’s got a lot of them, too.”

  “Marvelli!” Loretta scolded.

  “You know what I mean, Loretta. If Taffy wants a woman, he’ll find himself one.”

  Just as long as it’s not Jennifer, he thought, already getting angry. After all, why wouldn’t he go for Jennifer? She’s young and beautiful … and he’s got her right there. Marvelli’s jaw muscles tightened. The bastard better not touch her.

  “Taffy likes a certain kind of woman,” Rispoli said. “He’s pretty particular about that.” He was looking at Loretta.

  “Oh, yeah, you’re right,” Sammy chimed in. “I forgot about that.” He was looking at Loretta, too.

  “What?” she snapped. “What’re you looking at me for?”