Paddy clawed at Eddy’s hands as they gripped his neck. He started choking.
Eddy felt the pulse in the old man’s neck as his fingers tightened. Paddy fought in vain, managing to get a feeble punch at Eddy side, but it was too late.
His eyes bulged and his face paled. In moments, he fell to the ground, dead. His lifeless body slumped against the wall. Eddy glared at him, feeling no remorse. He emptied Paddy’s pockets and found the truck keys, a couple of hundred dollars and some loose change. The dumpster was there, so Eddy made use of it, dumping Paddy’s body inside.
Part Four
Paddy’s body was gone, but what to do now?
He couldn’t afford the extra police attention if the body were found. And what would Kim say? He couldn’t lose her, not now. She wouldn’t understand. “But that Irish grass deserved it, thinking he could play me,” Eddy muttered. He checked the parking lot to make sure there was no one around and reorganized the bags of trash to conceal Paddy’s body. It was a lucky break considering how many rigs were parked there, but he hadn’t been seen, thankfully. He had time, not much, but enough. They had to get far away. This dive of a motel was going to be too hot to stay in soon. It would be hard to get Kim to move on. She was exhausted, but he would figure something out. Wiping the sweat from his brow he walked back to the cafe and the smiling face of his doll. Kim was outside. “Eddy, thank God you’re back.”
“I’m fine, doll face. Relax. Everything’s fine. Everything’s just fine.” He tried his best to sound reassuring as they walked back to their table in the crowded cafe.
“Where’s Paddy?”
Eddy shot back the coffee Kim had bought him while he was outside. Eddy’s mind was full of half-baked ideas and schemes. His eyes jumped from his now empty cup to the clock on the wall and back again. “Something came up. He had to rush on ahead, something about one of the fighters. We’re going now to join the rest of the troop at Liberty City train station and travel to San Francisco with them.” He smiled. “Paddy said he was sorry he couldn’t take us. Oh, and he said to keep smiling.”
Kim’s face relaxed and her smile returned. “Oh, good. I like Paddy. He reminded me of my Pa. I think Rudy would have liked him too. He was his kind of person.”
Eddy bit his bottom lip. “Yeah, a damn gent,” he said under his breath, clenching his fist from under the table.
Jack woke as the train pulled into Chicago. The smog rolled in, making the view of the station hazy at best. He tipped his hat off his eyes. He hated this city. He grabbed his brown coat and small bag and headed out of the station. For the next few hours, he was on foot, checking out hotels near the station, greasing hotel coppers with green. He hoped his hunch was right. He didn’t want to have to travel any further out.
It didn’t take him long to stumble across one that had been the scene of a shooting only a few days before. A coincidence? He thought not. Jack talked and flirted with a few of the hotel staff, though he had to pay for the information eventually. When he was sober, he was good at his job. This was one of those times. He found a young bellboy named Ezra who was easy to get talking. He had seen a couple running from the hotel, leaving most of their belongings behind.
Jack hoped to take a look at the luggage, but the brains of the hotel had sent them to the Salvation Army. The bellboy had followed them to a small backstreet, but they vanished into one of the many doors and he’d lost them. Jack was impressed by Ezra. A kid like that would do well in this game. He jotted down his details in his notebook. Who knew? Jack might give him a job in the office one day.
Jack made a quick telephone call to Victor only to learn he had not only known about the hotel, but had ordered the hit. It would have been nice if Victor had shared Kovakx’s location from the start, but Jack kept his grievances to himself. He was sure Victor had his reasons, like making sure he earned every cent of the ten grand he’d promised. He did drop a clue about the couple’s destination before hanging up though, so the call wasn’t a total waste of time. Jack took a cab down-town. It cost more than the price of his train ticket from Central. Down-town was a built-up area, a mass of doors, garbage cans and broken yard gates. The only sign of life was the stray mongrel spending a penny against a hydrant. He was just starting to think Victor had given him a red herring when he noticed the crumpled fliers scattered across the floor. With nothing else to go on, he hit the side-walks in search of the gym. It was as good a place to hide as any. He made it his business to ask around and struck lucky. He found a night watchman, an avid boxing fan. Jack told the night watchman just enough to pique his interest and he recalled seeing a new face at the boxing tournament who just happened to match Kovakx’s description. For the price of a box of Lucky Strikes, the night watchman led him into the ramshackle gym and gave him the key to the flat above.
The old flat came up trumps with the telltale signs of trouble. Broken furniture, wood splinters, and the chairs cut to ribbons decorated the place. Plus, the door had been forced. In the dingy, mouldy bathroom, some old dressings lined the bin. This had to be the place.
The thrill of the chase urged him on. After another look around, he saw an open bottle of Pellar’s stout. He picked it up and was about to take a taste, but as he reached the door, he put it back. Jack felt good for the first time in ages. He lit a cigarette and mulled over the scene. Pinned to a mirror was another fight flyer. This one advertised a venue in Frisco, but Jack needed to be sure before taking a chance like that. He couldn’t afford to travel all that way for nothing.
He headed down the stairs and into the gym. After a quick look around, he entered the small back office, picked up the phone and checked in with Renetti, just in case he’d heard anything else. In truth, he needed some more money wired his way for a hotel and gas. He’d given all he had left to the conductor. “Operator? Yes, Central City, 487-302, Renetti, please.” The line crackled into life as Victor’s gravelly voice came through. “Malone, nice of you to call. Good news I hope?”
“Victor, yeah, I got news. I’ve tracked him down to a small gym. Well, the outfit’s on a tour, but I reckon he’s with them. Oh, and Vic, I need more green. This case just got expensive.”
“You’re as good as I’d hoped. You’re right, you know. Kovakx’s tied up with that two-bit fight show. I had a tip-off to that effect myself.”
Jack gripped the phone tight. Something else he’s not told me.
“You go to San Francisco, get him and finish this once and for all. Your money will be waiting for you as promised, and I’ll send another hundred or two your way. Spend it wisely. Any more will come out of your cut, you hear, pal?”
The line went dead. Charming. Jack chuckled.
Kim leaned over and kissed Eddy. He looked into her eyes; the warmth of the kiss filled him. He took her hand into his and gave it a gentle squeeze. She made everything he was going through worth it.
The fading yellow cab turned into the station and stopped “Three bucks, pal.”
For a moment, Eddy froze to the spot. He continued staring into Kim’s eyes, never wanting the moment to end.
“Hey, Jerk! Three bucks is three bucks. I ain’t got all day, you know.”
Eddy didn’t take his eyes off Kim. “So take another trip around the block.”
The driver slammed the car into gear and drove off. The Chinese cabbie’s passengers made out like love struck juvies on a prom night.
Eddy wanted more. His hand slipped up Kim’s thigh, his fingers drawing closer to what Eddy thought would be heaven. The cab pulled into the station a bit sharper than expected. “Hey! I gave you a solid. Now do me one. Five bucks and I ain't got all day. I got a wife and mouths to feed, you get my drift?”
The cabbie’s Chinese-American accent and madly waving arms made him sound and look more animated than Eddy would have liked, but he ignored it. The moment was gone. Eddy pushed ten dollars into the cabbie’s hand, grabbed his leather bag and Kim’s hand and headed for the busy platforms. As they descended the rusting
iron stairs onto platform twelve, Eddy spotted the other members of the tour. They stood against the regular commuters and handfuls of soldiers milling about the platforms, hoping to get lucky on leave. Of the twelve fighters, there were two Eddy didn’t recognize. One beefy guy had a face like a pizza and no neck. He went by the name of Sam. The other was a one man mountain, with a black eye and a bum chin who Eddy thought was called Moses. Sam greeted Eddy and Kim briefly but warmly. Moses did little more than nod. They all lit up for a smoke.
“Hey, Sam. Why the tribe still here? Don’t you know the livestock carriage doesn’t board here?”
Sam laughed. “We would have been in Frisco if Moses hadn’t decided to use two patrolling coppers as a game of whack-a-mole, buying himself a night in the clink.”
Eddy looked up at Moses. “Hey, Moses, why?” Eddy was by no means small in stature, but looking up at this giant made him feel like an ant, more so when Moses’ booming voice replied.
“Those two gum-shoes looked at me funny, saying my sort didn’t belong in their town. So, I decided to show them what my sort felt about them and their city.”
Eddy and Sam were in hysterics when Kim put her hand on Eddy’s shoulder.
Kim went and bought tickets for her and Eddy. When their train stopped at the platform, the random assortment of warriors piled in.
“Hey, Eddy. Where’s Paddy at?” inquired another boxer, whose name Eddy had forgotten.
Eddy thought quickly. “Oh, he’s gone ahead to set things up. Told us to hook up with you guys.”
A boxer with a broken nose looked at Eddy with caution. Being Paddy’s charity case hadn’t helped Eddy get along with some of the band.
“Good to know, my friend. The next place had best be better than that dive in Chicago. By the way, the name’s Brian Banner. We didn’t get a chance to be introduced before I floored you. Sorry about that by the way.”
Eddy shook his hand. Brian pointed to the boxer giving a conductor a dirty look and then introduced him to three other men. Mac had a black eye and two missing teeth. Next to him was a whisper of a man called Thompson. And seated on a large canvas bag, drinking beer was a Canadian by the name of Logan. The Lionel train gave a jolt, pulling out of the station, and filled the air with smoke. Thick black ash dusted the platform, sending ladies running for cover. It was quite funny. The great train lurched like a beast as he travelled along the track. A piercing whistle blew as they entered a tunnel that cut through a hill, then disappeared in a cloud of thick smoke.
A hundred miles and a change of clothes later, Jack stepped onto the side-walk outside the telegraph office. Renetti had wired Jack the extra money he had asked for and he was now able to catch a plane to Frisco. With luck, he would arrive hours before Kovakx and the rest of the travelling boxers. Jack could almost taste the money. It would not be long before he and Eddy stood face-to-face. Jack reached into his coat pocket and felt the cold steel of his Magnum. It would not long before it saw daylight.
The private airfield was a mess of metal and steel frames. The war overseas had stopped its completion some years before. But it had gathered momentum again.
The grand DC-6 was waiting on the runway. Its sleek metal skin shone in the sun, a beacon of the times. The steady line of passengers walked out from the main building and across the tarmac to the steps. The two hulking engines whined as they fired up. Jack had only been on a plane a couple of times before and he wasn’t a great fan. Men shouldn’t fly. It wasn’t right, and besides, it was a luxury a hard-up P.I could not afford. It was not an enjoyable experience, anyway. A train would have been better for Jack. He could have stretched his legs, maybe had a drink or a meal. But here there was little in the way of drinks or food due to the lack of space and weight on board. But it was quicker, and right now, that was all that mattered.
Kim, Eddy and the motley crew of boxers arrived in sunny San Francisco and wasted no time in finding the hotel. Eddy figured he and Kim would spend a short while with the troop before giving them the slip and striking out on their own. It was a plan, the only one he could think of. They had to move on before questions about Paddy’s absence started and fingers started pointing. A spell behind bars wouldn’t help his fresh start.
Jack watched his mark from across the drinking house across the street. He had been in Frisco for half a day, waiting for the train full of boxers to arrive. Kovakx was caught; he just didn’t know it yet. Jack had only one decision to make now: take him back to Victor to face who knows what, or hand him over to the cops. The money was a big factor. Jack was good at his job, but times were hard. The P.I business was slow and he needed a break. All he had to do was make Eddy vanish. Maybe he could send him a warning and a one-way trip to Europe. No, that wouldn’t work. He had to disappear and never show up again. That meant one thing, and then the ten grand would be his if Victor could be trusted. There was a lot to think about and not much time to do it!
Jack checked his gun and snapped it shut, stowing it back in his trench pocket.
Kim and Eddy left the gang of boxers in the hotel bar, where the volume and profanity grew louder. He lead Kim up to their room, clutching her in one arm, the leather bag full of cash in the other. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. His time had come. No more small-time cons or scams for him. No, from now on, it was the legit lifestyle. He had made it big and gotten away clean. No one knew where he was. He was free as a bird. A very rich bird. And with the most amazing broad he’d ever clapped eyes on. They flopped on the bed and fell into each others arms, enjoying each other’s naked bodies passionately. There would be no more running for either of them. They kissed, gently at first, and then with passion and intensity. After a while, they poured themselves a drink and covered themselves with blankets.
Jack finished his drink and glanced at the clock on the wall. Nine p.m. Not too late, but late enough that darkness would get him across the street and into the hotel unseen. There was only one desk clerk at the front and he was busy reading a cheap skin mag. There was a broad on the centre fold with gam's so long she had them wrapped around her head. It would be no problem getting the hotel register once he’d knocked the clerk out. He straightened his coat and stepped forward when Moses entered the lobby from the bar. He staggered to the main desk. The young clerk put down Miss July and smiled uneasily at the toothless giant. “Yes sir, can I help you?”
“A bottle of your best house wine for my good friend Eddy Kovakx. He’s in room fif… No. No, that’s mine.” He slapped his hand on the desk. “Room… seventeen.” Mac winked. “He’s got a female caller if you get my drift.”
Jack smiled from the shadows as Mac leaned closer to the clerk. “Charge it to Mr. O’Neal’s account.”
“Mr. Paddy O’Neal?”
“That’s him!”
The boy nodded. “Certainly, sir.”
Mac glanced at the skin mag and roared with laughter. “Better wash your hands after you’ve finished with that.”
Jack slipped away from the lobby and headed for the back stairs. “Room nine, eleven, thirteen, fifteen… seventeen. Got you. You’re mine buddy.”
He took out the lock picking set from his inside jacket pocket, using the picks to tickle the tumbler until it hit the door’s sweet spot. It wasn’t a problem, not for a decent P.I. He eased the door open and slipped inside. A slant of light spilled from the bathroom. Kim was inside, fixing her hair in front of the broken wall mirror. From the fleeting glance he’d gotten, Jack had to admit she was a swell dame. Eddy was in bed, muttering in his sleep.
Jack knelt. He eased the key from the bathroom door, pulled it shut and locked it, using the but of his gun, to knock the handle off, she wasn’t getting out any time soon. He didn’t want the broad to see this. If he had to kill Eddy, she might never get over it. He was a gentleman like that.
He tucked the key in his pocket and took out his gun, levelling it at the blanket-covered figure in front of him.
“Don’t try it, gumshoe,” came Eddy’s l
ow, gravelled voice from under the white covers. “I got you covered.” His gun pointed square at Jack from beneath the covers.
Jack’s trained eye locked on to the snub nose barrel.
“Who sent you?” Eddy’s voice was a mix of anger and concern.
“The name’s Jack Malone. P.I from Central. You’ve got a price on your hide. I’m here to see you answer for the murders of Big Mike and the others, plus a mutual friend of ours wanted to say hello!”
“Well, dick, it ain't going to be as easy as all that. I’ve been ducking and diving all my life. This is my big chance and you, pal, aren’t taking it from me.”
Eddy’s head slid up over the top of the covers. The two men eyeballed each other long and hard. Each man studied the other, looking for a mistake, a wrong move; a slip-up to give the other the edge. Both men had way too much to lose.
Eddy glanced at the leather bag. That one split-second was all Jack needed. He dove for the floor as he let some hot lead loose. Eddy fired back. The bullet went wide, dinging Jack’s left arm, smashing a lamp and embedding in the wall. The pain burned into him as he took cover behind the chest of drawers.
Eddy wasn’t so lucky. He took a bullet square in the chest, his blood spraying a crimson ribbon across the peeling wall. He was dead and dripping blood on the cheap wooden floor. A pool of blood framed his corpse. Kim screamed. Her voice carried high. It would bring attention Jack could do without. She screamed even louder when she couldn’t get out, banging the door like a crazed creature. Jack glanced around. The chaos from the bathroom subsided as the words of a well-known prayer chimed. He recognized it from Sunday school and couldn’t help but chant Kim’s plea to the Lord. Jack was saying it more to himself than anything.
“The Lord will keep you from all harm. He will watch over you all your life. The Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forever more.”
Welcome To Central City Page 7