To prove my point, I turned and hurled the bottle. There was a satisfying whistling sound as it spun through the air before exploding across an astonished goon’s forehead. He crumpled like a rag doll.
His boys didn’t take it very well. Three of them rushed at us, and damned if Poddar didn’t step up and knock the first one out with some satisfying chin music. I sipped my bourbon as he made short work of the other two. But I paid attention to his fighting style, just in case I had to take him on later.
It was pretty impressive. Poddar moved lightning quick, and his martial art skills were second to none. I made a mental note to just shoot him if we ended up crossing wires.
Vinny shifted, forcing me to catch the muzzle of the scattergun he tried to point at my head.
“Now that was just stupid.” I shoved backwards and caught him square in the kisser with the rifle butt, doing all sorts of damage to his ugly choppers. Since I was feeling generous, I went ahead and dealt him a second blow across the temple to finish him off. I always try to dull the pain when I do dental work.
The side door burst open just when Poddar put down the last goon. About ten more droppers poured in, beefy lugs that looked like they spent all their waking hours at the gym. I eyeballed the door. I could’ve tried a quick dash and my luck in getting a hacker to break into the dibcard.
But instead I introduced the rubes to the Mean Ol’ Broad.
As far as looks went, she was nothing to brag about. Six-inch barrel, seven shot, mech-enhanced revolver. A bit chipped and maybe a rust fleck or two, but it was the power that made me hot for her. Sure she was an older girl, but I never cared much for the biological bean shooters. Why waste dibs on an energy round when bullets kill just as fast?
One shot to the ceiling was all it took. When the Broad spoke, people listened.
I tossed Vinny’s scattergun to Poddar as I addressed the crowd. “Look here, boys—I know you wanna show your loyalty to your boss and all, maybe get a raise or something. But you gotta ask yourselves: how fast are you? ‘Cause I’m betting these slugs are faster.”
A voice spoke from behind me. “Indeed, Mr. Trubble. A very shrewd observation. And one you may want to consider yourself, especially if you want to live past the next few seconds.”
Poddar and I turned. In the doorway of the kitchen were four trouble boys; all pointing heat our direction. In the middle was Tommy Tsunami himself, decked in funeral black from head to toe.
He smiled.
Chapter 3: Everything Burns
The match flared with a snakelike hiss off the palm of his hand. As he lit his gasper, the flare that reflected in his onyx eyes created the illusion of fiery tunnels. The smile was still on his face, the white of his teeth a striking contrast to the darkness of his presence.
Yeah, I tend to wax poetic when facing certain death.
“Do you believe in New Haven, Mick?” Smoke streamed dragon-like from his nostrils.
At that point I relaxed a bit. You gotta understand that when you get your life threatened as much as I do, you tend to read into the varying threat levels—kinda like the government did back when we still had one. Had he asked me if I believed in God, I would’ve had a much graver perspective.
“I’ve seen a few things about this town, good and bad. Why, you thinking about running for mayor or something?” I eyeballed his suit. “Nice rags. Who’s your tailor—Death?”
This is what I refer to as the Dance of Dangerous Men. Tommy and I had never actually met until then, but men of our sort have reputations that precede us. Some true, and a lot distorted. The exchanges of slick talk and wisecracks gave us a chance to chin each other out and see if the word on the streets was on point. You know, important bunk.
Tommy was whip slender with the complexion of aged mahogany. His eyes smoldered in a face made of sharp planes and angles. It was a face designed for glowers and intimidating scowls. Which made the smile on his lips an almost frightening mockery.
“Just wondering if you know exactly what you’re getting into. You may be able to scrape up a living in the Flats, but this is a high stakes caper. The kind of gamble where the player can get clipped before he can even crab, see? You’ve jumped in the middle of a chess game, Mick.” He took another drag and exhaled fumes. “And I don’t even think you’ve figured out checkers yet.”
Charming fellow, that Tommy.
I slid the Broad back into her holster and motioned for Poddar to lower the scattergun. Tommy jerked his thumb at the droppers, who scattered out the back. That just left Poddar and me with the chopper squad and Tommy. The tension seemed to ease a bit, which made me wonder what kind of gab the locals were spreading about me. I decided to run with it.
“I’ll tell you what, Tommy. Why don’t you tell me exactly what this con is about, and I might breeze without any more damage to your cozy little dive here.”
The scorn in his eyes showed that he knew exactly how impotent my threat was. “I hear you’re quite a gambler, Mick. An exceptionally poor one. So. Let’s play a quick game of high card. If you win then I’ll happily answer any questions you have to ask. If I win, you’ll drop whatever deal you’ve been ribbed up into and perform a task for me at the same rate. Agreed?”
I offered my most infuriating smile. “I'll see your bet and raise that you double my rate and toss in free drinks for life at this ritzy little joint ‘cause I like it here. That, and the Prince here shuffles the deck. Not that I don’t trust you or nothing.”
He chuckled then, or tried to. The result was a dry rasp without the slightest hint of humor. “You are a unique individual, I must admit. Very well. I accept your terms. Dick.”
I realized he didn’t just call me a dick, but spoke to one of the trouble boys still pointing heaters at us. Dick motioned, and the chopper squad finally lowered them. As Tommy and I took a seat at a nearby table, Dick pulled out a deck of cards from his coat pocket and tossed it to Poddar, who expertly shuffled the deck. As the cards flipped between his palms, Tommy and I engaged in a staring contest. His expression rippled behind the smokescreen from his overpriced gasper.
“Tell me something, Mick. What exactly were you trying to accomplish by barging into my joint making noise and waving that cannon of yours around? I had heard that you were suicidal, but I must say it’s impressive to actually witness someone with such an apathetic outlook of his own survival.”
I shrugged. “You think I could have flushed you out by asking nice? A wise man once told me that if you wanna wake the dead, you start by making a lot of noise.”
He smiled darkly as Poddar finished and held the deck out to me. Without looking, I pulled a card. Tommy did the same, never taking his eyes from mine.
I turned my card over. Queen of hearts.
Tommy didn’t even bother to look as he flipped over the king of hearts. How he rigged that up I couldn’t figure, but he had me from the start.
His face grew even harder, if that was possible. “Now that I have your attention, let me say this as clearly as possible. I’m a man with a certain reputation, as you may know. A rep that may be damaged by some desperate lunatic coming into my own joint and making fools out of my boys.”
He glared at the droppers still out cold on the floor. “Granted they are fools, but that’s beside the point. Etiquette demands that I make an example of you, most likely by devising the most tortuous death I can imagine and having your Indian friend take the pieces that’s left back to his precious Ms. Kilby to deliver to her sponsor.”
He leaned in closer so I could see the flecks of menace that danced in his eyes. “You obviously suffer from an exaggerated sense of self-importance, so listen carefully. The shit I flushed down the toilet this morning has more value to me than what passes for your existence. You’re going to do exactly what I tell you, because if you don’t, you’ll be decorated with more cavities than the moon. Catch my drift?”
I didn’t say anything. It was kind of hard with the clammy fingers of fear clamped around my thro
at.
Tommy’s face was lost in a cloud of smoke, but his voice burned right through. “So this is what you’re going to do for me, shamus. Don’t bother returning to Ms. Kilby empty-handed. She’s going to be…occupied for a while.”
I saw Poddar tense. The trouble boys saw it too and took a few steps forward. Tommy went on as if he didn’t notice.
“Your job now is to locate the individual holding her leash, and yours by connection. You will then use your limited skills to keep that individual occupied for the remainder of the night. That’s all it will take for me to do what I need to do, after which I will return the object in question. You get to claim responsibility and collect whatever payment is owed to you.”
A leather-gloved finger jabbed through the smoke. “But if you botch this up, I swear I will unleash the hounds. Nimrods who make the ones currently after you look like easy street. There will be no safe zone; nowhere you can go where I can’t reach and snatch the life out of you. Understand?”
I shrugged with a lot more nonchalance than I felt. “Yeah, sure. I got no kick with that. Thing is, the Prince here works for Ms. Kilby. Which may cause a conflict of interest in this particular gig, if you take my meaning.”
“I know all about Poddar’s relationship with Ms. Kilby. Which is why I’m taking him out of the picture right now. Dick.”
Dick and his boys raised their heaters again. Poddar went for his scattergun. He didn’t have a chance.
I did.
I have this particular talent. It’s saved my hide more times than I can remember. It’s a photographic memory. If I see something once then I can rewind to that point with perfect clarity. So I clearly recalled the scene from the open door of the kitchen when Tommy and his goons first walked in. Every detail stood out plainly—including the gas line that led to the main oven. Fortunately, the energy crisis that New Haven basically invented to jack prices also forced a lot of joints to install gas units. The Gaiden was one of those joints, if memory served me correct.
Which it always does.
Before the chopper squad could clap, I pulled the Mean Ol’ Broad out in one smooth motion and rolled to the side. I’m a pretty good shot even on a bad day, and it wasn’t a bad day.
Yet.
The Broad roared, but the answer from the explosion was louder. Heat and flame washed over us as the wall blew apart and lucky bastards ducked for cover. The unlucky ones were smoked like last night’s chicken dinner. While I slid backward, I caught a flash of movement and threw lead again. I scored a direct hit on Tommy’s burning flogger. The man had doffed it so quickly that it was still in the air when I plugged it.
Someone screamed. It was Dick, Tommy’s favorite triggerman. He looked pretty out of sorts as he ran around blazing like a human torch. I stepped to the side and let him dash out into the rain to cool off.
Tommy’s voice carried from somewhere in the roiling smoke. “Forget about them, get the leg to safety! That’s the only important thing!”
I stood up and almost got my head clipped by one of the goons. He screamed with that hysterical madman kind of laughter as he fogged the place with his Thompson. The lights on the cartridge flashed and slugs whined like mosquitoes, shattering glass and shredding the ritzy furniture.
If his aim had been even halfway decent, I would’ve bought the farm right there. Instead I caught some hot lead in the arm as I ducked behind the bar. It didn’t feel so good. Getting clipped never does.
His maniacal shooting continued, so I found a nice pint of apricot brandy and took a few swallows as glass rained on my head and shoulders. The booze was a lot better than the goon’s aim.
The instantly pleasurable sound of a scattergun blast echoed. I stood as the goon toppled with a chest full of lead. Poddar calmly stepped across the flames and picked up his flogger. Another wide-eyed goon jumped from behind a fallen table, his bean shooter forgotten in his hand. Poddar let him have it with another booming shot, knocking the rube off his feet and out the window.
The extinguisher system seemed to have been damaged by the initial explosion. Flames spread fast around us, roaring hungrily as they licked across the walls and ceiling.
There was no sign of Tommy Tsunami.
I tipped the bottle. “Glad you could make it, Prince. Maybe you’d like to speed up the country pace so we could do something like get the hell outta here, whaddya say?”
Poddar gave me an appraising look. “I can’t believe you didn’t get nailed. I didn’t think you had those kind of reflexes.”
“Yeah, well being shot at gives a man a boost.” I pointed to my bloody sleeve as I clumsily grabbed my flogger and adjusted the Bogart back on my head. The downfall of rain never felt better as we fled the furnace that used to be a nightclub.
As I thumb-scanned Maxine, I used the flogger to pad my arm. Didn’t want to bleed all over the seat. Getting those stains out is too much work.
“Get us outta here, Max.”
Maxine rumbled angrily. Her tires squealed as we shot from the burning building, bat outta hell style.
“He knew about Ms. Kilby.” Poddar’s voice was strained as his hands clenched tightly. I knew it wasn’t funny, but I was so bent that I laughed anyway.
“So there’s more to your job than just guarding her body, Killer?” I ignored his glare as I chortled painfully. “Yeah, he knew about her, and you. His occupation is information. If a mouse squeaks in New Haven, you’d better bet that Tommy’s got his hand on some cheese. Don’t worry though, ol’ sport. Lemme get this bum arm sewed up, and we’ll get to rescuing your dame like knights in shining armor.”
“Where are we going?”
“A little further Downtown. I got an Angel to see.”
Widow’s tears slid down the windshield as I took a look back. Behind us, the sky reddened from the Gaiden burning. I’d just made an enemy of one of the most notorious gangsters in New Haven, but right then I was too out of sorts to care. ‘The leg’, he’d said. What kind of leg was so important that he passed up on nailing me to secure it? I was putting a puzzle together with no lights on while not even sure if I had all the pieces.
And I hated puzzles.
Chapter 4: Touched By an Angel
The rain still hadn't slacked, but Maxine had seen worse. As the wheels gripped the wet pavement, I watched the cityscape blur by. Residents ran in and out the rain, on their way to ritzy nightclubs, local bars or other nocturnal rendezvous. Sirens flashed overhead as the hosers sailed in the direction of the Gaiden. At that moment Tommy Tsunami was probably sending droppers to stalk the streets like bloodhounds, looking to catch wind of my scent. Poddar glared like he was about to do something incredibly stupid.
I bled.
I'd been plugged before, but that never makes it any less painful the next time around. My arm throbbed, dulled only slightly by the Wild Turkey from my ever-handy flask. I poured a little on the wound, and whimpered like a baby from the resulting fire. The only silver lining was that it was the left arm. I'd already cut the hand, so it made sense to catch a slug too.
“Dispatching medical supplies.”
The compartment slid open and I accepted the offered compression wrap. With the constricted space I settled for replacing the flogger with the wrap to slow the bleeding. Getting the stains out of my flogger was gonna be a pain, I could tell. Good think the material was dark.
We had gotten away from the restaurants and clip joints. Gated apartments and houses with security fences surrounded us.
"Pull in right here, Maxine.” I indicated the parking deck of one of the nicer apartment buildings.
My Angel worked swing shifts at a hospital in the Flats when I met her. Since I have a real bad habit of getting lead poisoning, we got to know each other pretty well. I was able to get her a receptionist gig at the office of a high-pillow lawyer that I did some work for. Now she could make some real dough and get out of wheeling stiffs around. I've taken her out a few times, but she doesn't let me get too close on account of
the kind of fellow I am.
You know, the kind that sets clubs on fire and catches a few slugs now and then.
I hoped to catch her at home, otherwise I was gonna have to doctor on myself, and I've never had too much luck with that.
After taking the elevator, I knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" The thick security door muffled her voice.
"It's me, Angel. Open up, will ya?"
"I don't know anyone named ‘me’. And if I did, I would think he'd remember promising to take me to the picture show on Friday."
Well, wasn’t that a kick in the head. I’d forgotten all about that little promise. Come to think of it, I didn't even know what day it was then.
"Aw, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I got a little caught up on some business, that's all. I promise I'll make it up to you."
"Mm hm. I bet this business just happened to have long blond hair and oversized boobs, didn't it? Sharon told me she saw you at the Flamingo with that floozy!"
Busted again by the female information superhighway. I think if the top brass made all their spies dames, their information gathering would triple.
"Look baby, that was just a gig. I have to take clients out sometimes; it's a part of the business. You know I wouldn't do that to you. Now could you please open the door? I'm bleeding out here, and I feel like I'm gonna pass out."
I knew the combination of charm and vulnerability worked when I heard the digital locks release. The door slid open, and my Angel peered out suspiciously.
She stood about as high as my shoulder, a sweet lil redhead wearing those darb glasses with the classy frames. The eyes behind them were even sweeter. They were violet-shaded; the kind of gems a man could drown in and count himself lucky.
“Who's this?”
I'd forgotten all about Poddar.
"I'm a friend, miss." He spoke in that quiet tone of voice that drives dames wild. "I just wanted to get Mr. Trubble somewhere safe.” He looked at me. “If you’re all right, I’ll rent a skimmer from the garage and check out Ms. Kilby’s apartment. I might find some clues.”
The Troubleshooter: New Haven Blues Page 3