Men Who Walk Alone

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Men Who Walk Alone Page 28

by T. J. Martinell


  “Is that why you were so anxious to pin those murders on me?” the Vigilante asked. “You knew it wasn’t me, didn’t you?”

  Elroy nodded to Ross, an amused smile apparent.

  “We may have elicited Noble’s services then,” he said. “He had his grievances, and we had ours. We supplied him with all the necessary clothes and equipment to look the part. We thought if we had you killing innocent people, the damage would be undone. The communities would stop supporting you and they would look to us again. But unlike other murderers, they refused to believe a word of it. They defended you to the end. That made you even more dangerous.”

  Elroy grinned triumphantly as he clapped Ross on the shoulder. “We thought he had died when we pulled him out of that warehouse you burned to the ground. We were able to save him, and as it turned out, he has become even more useful than before. He told us quite a bit about you.”

  “It was the least I could do,” Ross declared, his gaze obsessively transfixed on the Vigilante. “You wouldn’t help me. They have.”

  “Did you help them with Rantoul Street?”

  “No,” Elroy stated. “That was a jointly planned operation. Shoupe was the one who carried it out. It was performed brilliantly.”

  Righteous indignation poured out of the Vigilante’s countenance as he roared back so intensely that the officers drew back.

  “You talk of innocent people whom you murdered! At your hands! You were charged with protecting them, and you tell me I’m committing a serious crime by threatening you? What monster gave birth to you?”

  The Irishmen cheered supportively. Murphy bent his head downward as he spat at Elroy’s feet.

  “A curse upon ye! May ye days be short and painful to boot!”

  “Fools,” Elroy replied. “What we did galvanized the city into action. It got men like you to pick up your guns and fight! It did everything we had hoped it would! Your reactions were precisely what we anticipated. It got neighborhoods that had fought for a decade to put aside their animosity and work together. We realized that until the people of this city acted to aid us, we could never take down Marzio. The city had to weaken his grip first.”

  “And what of the people?” Conan asked with a fist raised in front of him. “Ye murdered them!”

  “How many innocent people died every day because of Marzio? How many? What we did was no different, except it had enough people die for it to matter. A death by itself is merely another nameless number, another small brief in the papers. But when dozens are killed, it matters. Their lives gain significance. How many of them do you think would have been remembered if they had died by themselves at the hands of a mobster? Do you think it would have inspired the same response? Call us murders all you want, but what we did was merely create a clearer picture of a crime that has gone on for years! It mended a rift between the people of this city that could not have been done any other way! A tragedy can properly unite people.”

  “I suppose you would say the same thing about the riots?” the Vigilante asked.

  Elroy nodded his head slowly. His smile conveyed the degree of delight he took in his scheme, the success to which it had seen so far.

  “When we saw how the massacre caused the Irish and Italians to mend fences, how it rallied them against Marzio, we knew then that a final push was needed. And your meeting with us, quite frankly, served as a warning that if we did not act soon, complications may have arisen.”

  “So you got Marzio’s whole organization to riot?”

  “Something like that. Or maybe we simply turned his capo regimes against each other, each thinking we were on their side. We got them to carry out orders under the impression that when Marzio was removed we would offer them and their respective territories protection. The fools. We also administered some…well, let us just say that they were able to enjoy their own narcotics for a temporary amount of time.”

  Noble interrupted Elroy. He broke loose of his grip on his shoulder as he confronted the Vigilante. Elroy called out to him to stand down, but he didn’t listen. He waved animatedly as he spoke quietly, but with hatred in his voice.

  “We had hoped that you would be killed during the riots,” he said. “It would have made things much easier for me.”

  “How so?” the Vigilante asked.

  “Oh, it’s a part of our agreement,” Elroy said. “In exchange for his cooperation, we dropped all charges against him for the murders he may or may not have committed on his own.”

  “They were justified!” Noble screamed.

  “Of course. Anyways, I intend to institute new law enforcement policies in order to discourage any new gangs from entering this city. This will include the hiring of additional officers which were badly need. This, however, will require a larger city budget. That means new taxes. It also means things will be run differently in town as I see necessary. It was highly probable that we would meet with resistance on several of these points. While the new officers shall help carry my plans out, we realized that having the Vigilante lend his support to these policies would help avoid possible bloodshed.”

  The Vigilante’s laugh left everyone, including the Irishmen, shivering.

  “I will never support you,” he replied.

  “Yes, we predicted that. Which is where Noble comes in. He will serve as the new Vigilante and will endorse it.”

  Noble beamed proudly like a child would in front of their father.

  ***

  The officers emptied the last can of gasoline they had brought with them. The powerful odor nearly caused me to faint as I fought to filter each breath in my nostrils. Every square inch of the cabinets was soaked with the flammable liquid. The walls dripped with it. The safe, impervious to flame, had a large explosive charged set underneath it.

  As the officers gathered at the corridor entrance, Barker turned around to look at me, still appalled to the point of paralysis at what I had been told. I had once thought the disease of corruption had mostly been confined to the lower ranks among the beat cops, where the mob’s fist tightened the most. There, the corruption had been blatant, unmasked.

  Ultimately, however, the facades had proved deceptive.

  The department’s own heads had devised crimes more depraved than anything any mobster could have conjured up. My worst enemy, it turned out, had not been Marzio. It had been my own superiors, men in the same uniform as I.

  “This is where we come to a crossroads,” Barker said. “Now that Marzio is dead, we are going to usher in a new era of peace in Beverly. This city will finally know the tranquility it has long sought. It needs good men on the force to keep that peace in place. We could use a man as clever as you. What do you say? Are you willing to stand by us, or do you stand against us?”

  My eyes didn’t blink as I thought furiously of what to do.

  I had to see it through. It couldn’t end like this.

  But what else could I do?

  ***

  “So what do ye plan to do with us?” Conan asked.

  Elroy flashed an indifferent expression at them. “Kill you, naturally. You finished off the capo regimes we needed to get rid of. Your usefulness has ended.”

  As he walked away, Noble grabbed him, whispered in his ear. Elroy turned his head slightly, then looked over his shoulder at the Vigilante.

  “Why, yes, you may,” he said to Noble. “I don’t see why not.”

  Without another word, Noble marched over to the Vigilante. Underneath the scar tissue permeating his features, a sadistic smile formed.

  With a violent gesture, he grasped the Vigilante’s hair, then ripped it down, taking the mask with it. His eyes swelled in anticipated as he gazed at the exposed face.

  It was as though the Vigilante had disappeared. A young man in the same clothes stood in front of Noble, but all the terror he had inspired dissipated instantly.

  The Irishmen looked at him in disbelief. Conan and Murphy exhibited the greatest sense of bewilderment. The policemen seemed incredulous.
r />   “This can’t be the Vigilante,” one of them said.

  Noble moved his head as he peered at Sean Blood with narrowed eyes. Finally, his uncertainty swept off his face as he cried out. Taking out a large blade from his coat, he thrust out the edge of his knife towards Sean.

  “You! What are you doing here?”

  “You know who he is?” Elroy asked Noble.

  “Yes!”

  “How?”

  “I found breaking into my house, going through my things! He said he knew the Vigilante. But he is the Vigilante!”

  The police officers, including Noble, stared at Sean again, this time with the realization that he was, in fact, the Vigilante. Sean’s expression caused this disbelief and uncertainty, as he had his eyes cast down at the floor, not out of shame, but some unknown source of embarrassment.

  Out of nowhere, Noble broke into laughter. The policemen joined in, albeit discreetly until they felt secure enough to laugh outright. Elroy watched with intrigue, but chose to remain quiet.

  Noble held his blade up to Sean’s throat, licking his lips.

  “I’ve been looking forward to this for too long,” he said. “How does it feel to be at my mercy?”

  He didn’t give Sean a chance to answer. Bringing his knife down low, he thrust it into Sean’s side. Sean grimaced he felt the blade sink into his flesh. Yet, he did not protest, nor did he offer any resistance other than fight to prevent the weapon from entering any further into him.

  Murphy broke from the line and ran at Noble with a fist ready to throw. His actions prompted the officers to begin their deadly task. Gunfire filled the darkened tavern once more as they rapidly shot the Irishmen en masse.

  The killings were accomplished within seconds, while Noble took his time with Sean, muttering sounds of pleasure that made even the policemen shake their heads with disgust.

  “Enough!” Elroy ordered to Noble as he approached the front door. “He’s a goner. No way could he survive a wound like that.”

  The officers eagerly obeyed their commissioner as they holstered their weapons and joined him at the door. But Noble wouldn’t listen to the repeated calls. He couldn’t look away from Sean’s eyes as he lowered him to the ground, the knife still stuck near his hip. Sean seemed distraught, but not weak. There was an undeniable strength in his arms as he fought against Noble’s stabbing thrusts. Eventually, however, the bleeding took its toll, and the natural luminosity in his eyes began to fade until they finally closed, and he ceased to struggle.

  “Hurry!” Elroy shouted. “If someone sees us, this entire operation is ruined. I assure you I will make you pay if that happens!”

  The threat got through to Noble’s primal mind. Growling like a wolf, he licked his lips again joyfully as he pulled the knife out from Sean’s side. He wiped the blade against his pant leg before he sheathed it and met Elroy at the door. The glisten of bloodlust in his eyes kept the officers at a distance from him as they whispered amongst themselves.

  “Is the Vigilante dead?” Elroy asked.

  Noble bowed his head as if to accept a crown during a coronation.

  “I am the Vigilante now,” he said.

  After they had departed the nightclub a groan came from the pile of bodies. The groans continued as one of the bodies stirred. It was Murphy. Clutching his bloodied abdomen, he pulled himself across the floor with his other arm, crawling over to where Sean lay up against the bar counter, his hands over his grisly wound. Tears trickled down his boyish face as he stared aimlessly at the wall.

  Murphy called to him repeatedly in the form of whispers, but Sean did not seem to either hear him or pay attention. He finally summoned enough strength to call to him in a strong voice, which led to a heavy fit of bloody coughing. It succeeded, however, in drawing Sean’s gaze towards him. The dim light now shone on his entire countenance.

  “Sean, me brother,” Murphy exclaimed. “It was ye all this time?”

  Sean nodded.

  “I’m sorry, lad.”

  “For what?” Sean uttered.

  “I thought ye was a coward. Forgive me. May God forgive me for doubting ye.”

  Sean’s face glimmered from the tears as they wet his cheeks. He breathed heavily, tried to speak. The pain was too great to allow it.

  “Ye da would be proud of ye,” Murphy continued, his lips now red with blood. “Ye made us all proud.”

  Sean couldn’t speak. The affection in his eyes was only matched by the despair in his tone.

  “I wish I coulda been more like him.”

  Murphy extended his hand to touch Sean’s. The hand fell lifelessly to the floor by the time Sean had reached out with his. Sean kept his hand out for as long as he could, then his hand fell down to his side. Looking at the shadow formed on the curtain by the stage, he studied the human-like outline with child-like curiosity. Reaching into his shirt, he pulled out his grandfather’s rosary, clicking it ritualistically.

  As time transpired, his eyelids lowered further and further until they covered his eyes completely. Abruptly, his hand dropped the rosary, leaving it to swing back and forth around his neck like a pendulum before it finally ceased to move.

  ***

  I swallowed hard, but felt no lump in my throat. Barker’s arrogant smirk made me want to take a swing at him. But I didn’t have the seconds to spare to think about it.

  It had come down to this.

  I had a moment or two to decide what to say. One answer would get me killed. The other would save my life. Before, there had always been the gray area to get lost in. No more. I knew how my father would have replied.

  As I rolled the cigarette around in my mouth, I experienced a revelation.

  Nothing had changed. It was all the same. Different superior, different scene, same predicament. Same test of my moral fiber.

  I remembered the days I had sat next to my father’s deathbed in the hospital, how I had watched him die because he wouldn’t give in, even when he had known it would cost him his life.

  Since then, I had made the same choice every time. Not once had I taken a step backwards.

  There was only one thing for me to do.

  Every eye in the room watched me as I reached into my leather jacket. Slowly, I pulled out my badge, waved it around so they could see it. I then held it with a still arm, addressed Barker in a peremptory voice. I couldn’t help but sound sardonic as I gave the order.

  “Chief Barker, ya under arrest on conspiracy to commit murder, murder one, and a helluva lot of other things I don’t wanna list right now. Ya brunos, too. Nobody here is innocent. Ya to put down ya guns and put ya hands behind ya back.”

  Barker gaped at me. For some reason, despite my reputation within the department, he hadn’t thought I would choose this path. With a baffled expression on his face, he looked at the officers. They all had perplexed expressions too as they held the empty gasoline cans in their limp hands.

  Then, Barker broke into laughter. The officers mimicked their leader. I wasn’t shamed by their mockery. I raised an eyebrow, blew out more smoke from my lips as I smoked what I figured would be my last cigarette. I intended to enjoy every last burnt leaf inside of it.

  “You’ve got a very interesting sense of humor, detective,” Barker said.

  “I’d of been a comedian, but they told me it was too dangerous. Ya never know what happens when somebody don’t take a joke too well.”

  “Unfortunately, I wasn’t looking for a joke as an answer.”

  Barker produced a lighter from his coat. He flicked it to life, smiled at the small bluish flame, then tossed it at the wall off to their right. Almost immediately, a fire bloomed like a flower, quickly raced up to the ceiling. The heat scorched the back of my neck.

  The police officers retreated to the corridor, where Barker joined them. He took one last gaze at me. I had my arms crossed defiantly. My intuition told me I’d get out of it alive. I had no clue how, but it hadn’t failed me yet. I had to trust it.

  “Farewell, de
tective,” Barker said. “I will make sure your obituary accurately reflects the dedication you gave to the department, how you died in the line of duty.”

  I stared at him stoically, prepared for my fate. If my father watched, he’d be proud. That was all I could hold onto.

  Barker waved with a sense of contempt.

  His face then lit up with horror. His mouth opened wide, his forehead creased distressfully. A second later, I watched a trickle of blood fall down the center of his forehead, drip down off his nose. More blood followed as he fell forward lifelessly.

  It happened too fast for me to take in. One moment, I had a gaggle of officers in front of me in the corridor. A moment later, they lay on the floor, their clothes soaked in blood. At the same time, the fire behind me ate through the floor ravenously.

  Empty shells clinked on the floor as Hardy appeared out of the corridor with a shotgun. He scowled as he spat on Barker’s corpse. He then saw me. A relieved smile appeared on both our faces.

  “I owed ya one!” Hardy said. “Now we’re even!”

  I didn’t listen. All I thought of was the stack of folders Marzio had given me. They were now the Holy Grail. They had to be recovered.

  I discounted Hardy as I dove backwards at the cabinet. The large flames threw enormous waves of heat at me, singed my clothes. I gasped in relief as I reached towards the cabinet, ripped the stack of folders away just as the flames reached it. One of the folders caught fire before I could retrieve it. Frantically, I smothered the flames with my jacket, then pointed towards Hardy.

  “Let’s get the hell outta here!”

  “Right!”

 

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