Antonio strode up and kicked Jimmy in the head. "Bastardo!" he spat. "Filth!"
Miles said, "Knock it off."
Antonio started to argue, but Matranga put a restraining hand on his arm. Antonio backed off.
Cat had relaxed, assuming his usual smooth poise. He leaned against the wall, twirling Miles's cane, said, "There's your Axeman, Mr. Matranga. I bashed him in the head for you. Oh, and Mr. Miles put a couple bullets in him, just to make sure an' all."
Matranga wasn't amused. He glared at Cat, said to Miles, "Nice job. I'll deal with it from here."
The two new heavies moved to grab Jimmy's still body and lug him away.
Miles said, "Hold up. There's a few things you need to know."
"Mr. Miles," Matranga said. "I don't need to know anything about this punk. He's about to take up residence in the Gulf."
"You need to know his name."
"What the hell do I care what his name is?"
"He was born in New York City. Some, oh, twenty years ago. Around the time you were starting out there, Matranga."
"Miles, I don't—"
"His name is Jimmy Manta."
Matranga seemed to seize up. His body stiffened and his face went red. "What?"
Miles sat down in the armchair. He pulled his pipe out, tapped some tobacco into it. He was pleased to see that his hands were steady. He put a match to the pipe and sucked in the smoke.
"I talked to some of my contacts in New York today, Matranga. You had an alias in those days. They called you Charlie Manta, didn't they?"
Matranga choked, "I ... are you saying what I—"
"Meet your son."
Confusion ran rampant through Matranga's ranks. Miles sat back and smoked his pipe and waited them out.
Matranga squatted, gently lifted Jimmy's head and looked at his face. The gangster's expression was unreadable. Jimmy's eyelids fluttered.
"Goddamnit," Matranga said. "Goddamnit, anyway."
He stood up straight, barked, "Antonio. You and the boys get him to the hospital. Now. Take the auto."
"But, Mr. Matranga—"
"Do it."
"He killed Fredrico. And Petey."
"He's my son! Move!"
The thugs grumbled, but did as they were told. They hefted Jimmy up, and between the three of them were just able to carry him out.
Matranga sat heavily on the edge of the bed. He wouldn't look at Miles. He took a cigar out of his vest, eyed it blandly for a moment. Then he put it back. "You knew he was my son, but you shot him anyway."
"Yes."
"If he dies, I'll—"
"What? Exact revenge against me? I wasn't about to let him kill me or Cat."
"Goddamnit."
"For what it's worth," Miles said. "I hope he makes it."
Matranga sighed. "Yeah," he said. "Me too." He stood up, straightened his collar, and looked at Miles. "I'm a man of my word. I'll stay out of Storyville."
Miles nodded. "I'd expect nothing less from you ... Mr. Matranga."
-Fourteen-
There was nothing in the papers about Jimmy Manta or his relationship to Charlie Matranga. The murdered prostitutes were never mentioned, and life in Storyville lumbered along in all its depraved glory.
It was three weeks before Matranga came to see Miles at the club, shortly after closing time. They sat in the lounge, enjoying a drink, smoking, and Matranga told him about Jimmy.
"The boy's alive. But he's not long for this world. The syphilis, it's just eating away at his brain. I ... I had him committed to the Alabama State Hospital for the Insane, in Tuscaloosa. They say he won't make it through the year. I was going to tell him, you know ... that I'm his father. But I don't think he'd understand. He's too far gone."
Miles saw Matranga out, locked the door behind him. He leaned against it for a moment, pondering. Most of the lights were out in the VioMiles, and the stage, the bar, the extravagant furnishings were bathed in shadows.
He sighed. His thoughts turned to Celissa who died at Charity Hospital soon after the night Jimmy was shot. They told Miles there was a parade by the ward window at the time she died. A band outside played jazz music, but it's doubtful she even heard it.
Upstairs, Violet was still awake, reading in the sitting room. She smiled at him.
He said, "Violet. New Orleans is for the birds and I'm no club owner. There. I said it."
She cocked her head at him, still smiling. "As I recall," she said. "Wyoming is awful nice this time of year."
"Yeah. And Cash Laramie is still around there."
Violet laughed. "Oh, you boys. What are you going to do? Strap on your six-shooters and play lawman again?"
He laughed. "Nope. I'm a tired old man, remember? I need some rest. But Wyoming ... Wyoming sounds damn good to me."
†
About the Author
Heath Lowrance is the author of the Gideon Miles adventure, "Miles to Little Ridge," as well as the novels City of Heretics, The Bastard Hand, and the weird Western collection (also from BEAT to a PULP) Hawthorne: Tales Of A Weirder West. He currently lives in Lansing, Michigan.
Other titles from BTAP
Miles to Little Ridge
by Heath Lowrance
(available for Kindle)
Edward A.Grainger's Gideon Miles hits the trail in this fast-clip western novella written by Heath Lowrance. The U.S. Marshal finds himself in the sleepy town of Little Ridge, Montana, on the search for a wanted man. But just as Miles enters town, he's spotted by a hard case who recognizes Miles as the lawman that killed his friend. Now Miles must face the wanted man, who claims his innocence and is raising a daughter on his own, while the hard case and a ne'er-do-well partner are gunning for him.
Hawthorne: Tales of a Weirder West
by Heath Lowrance
(available in print and for Kindle)
There are monsters in the West. There is evil, lurking in the blood-soaked hills and bone-strewn plains. But there is also Hawthorne-scarred, enigmatic, deadly, driven by an all-consuming rage to seek out and destroy evil wherever he finds it. Without mercy.
But how long can one man fight the demons before becoming one himself?
HAWTHORNE: TALES OF A WEIRDER WEST features the stories "That Damned Coyote Hill," "The Long Black Train," "The Spider Tribe," "Bad Sanctuary," and "The Unholy" as well as an introduction by Western fiction legend James Reasoner.
Adventures of Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles
by Edward A. Grainger
(available in print and for Kindle)
Adventures of Cash Laramie and Gideon Miles is a short story collection of eight rousing, noir Western tales with a hardboiled edge.
In 1880s Wyoming Territory, two Deputy U.S. Marshals find themselves on the outside of societal norms. Cash Laramie, raised by the Arapahos, is known as The Outlaw Marshal for his unorthodox conduct toward criminals and his cavalier approach to life. Gideon Miles, one of the first African Americans in the marshal service, is honorable, fearless, and unrivaled in his skills with guns, knives, and tracking.
These independent, resourceful lawmen develop a bond, establishing a formidable defense in a wayward land where good and wicked is often hard to distinguish and life is as cheap as a two-bit game of poker.
Trails of the Wild: Seven Tales of the Old West
(available in print and for Kindle)
It's been a long day on the trail. The sun is setting, the campfire is burning, and the storytellers are sitting around waiting to entertain you. TRAILS OF THE WILD features six short stories of the Old West and a brand-new Cash Laramie novella by Wayne D. Dundee.
Tension builds as a Texas Ranger is pinned down by an outlaw's rifle fire and a deadly diamondback crawling over his legs. Laughs abound when a man fights to maintain his own identity in the shadow of his famous, deceased grandfather Davy Crockett. Fear strikes while shape-shifting coyotes prowl outside the shack of a sole line rider in secluded ranch territory.
All this and more raise the
stakes and turn conventions upside-down. BEAT to a PULP's TRAILS OF THE WILD offers the boldest and most thrilling Western tales from the sharpest wordsmiths of our time.
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Visit us at www.beattoapulp.com
Email: [email protected]
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