Dead On

by Michael Paulson

  Chapter 27

  Bascomb's ranch amounted to three thousand acres of scrub trees wrapped around a rambling one-story stone ranch house, and a sagging horse barn. The former's windows were boarded up and what had been lawn in front of it was now a display area for waist-high thistles and knee-high fire ant mounds. Steel gates, flanked on either side by miles of white planking, framed the approach road. Herb stopped the limousine there and waited for instructions.

  I was jammed in one of the back seats with Dominic, an ex-boxer by the name of Cootie, Studsy and another of Dominic's bodyguards by the name of Tramp. Salvator had the copilot's seat. During the entire trip, Cootie scratched his chest while Tramp played with his gun. I pretended to snooze leaning my head on Tramp's shoulder, and muttering sweet nothings in his ear. It had been a long crowded drive, and if there was no rush to get back to town, I was reasonably certain Tramp and I would soon be engaged.

  "Wake the son-of-a-bitch up!" Salvator growled.

  Tramp gave me a sharp elbow in the ribs. I dutifully sat up straight and quipped, "Are we there yet, ma?"

  "This the only way in?" Salvator demanded, pointing at the gate.

  "Unless you've got wings," I replied. "The chain's just draped over it. I had to cut it because Delaney forgot to give me a key."

  Sal jabbed a thumb at the side window and Tramp got out. He hurried up to the gates and unhooked the chain. Then he swung the gate wide and motioned Herb to pull forward. Afterward, Tramp got back into the limo and we drove over to the barn.

  "Tramp, you and Cootie check out that house while Studsy deals with this," Salvator ordered, pointing through the windshield. "I don't want no surprises. Anybody's in there, you bring them to me."

  I followed Studsy out of the limo and over to the barn doors. The new padlock I had put on the hasp was still intact. Car doors slammed behind me as Salvator and Dominic got out. Herb stayed behind the wheel his head rubbernecking.

  "That stuff ain't in there," Studsy growled. "And I pay you back big-time for that low-blow at the hotel."

  "And, I thought we were friends, Studsy," I whined. "Didn't I take out your sister even though everybody else said she looked like a Chimpanzee?"

  He jerked out his gun and pointed it at me. "That's another thing I'm gonna' enjoy popping you, for. She was gonna' be a nun, before she ran into you. Now the crazy bitch is fuckin' anything in pants."

  "Have I got talent for breaking in the new ones, or what?"

  Studsy raised his gun to strike me but I hooked a foot behind his left knee and toppled him backwards to the ground.

  "It's just a matter of balance, Studsy."

  "Put that goddamn gun away and open the goddamn doors," Salvator growled at him.

  Studsy gave me a furious glare and then scrambled to his feet.

  "You'll need a crowbar," I told Sal. "I put the lock on after dumping off his stuff and mailed the key to Delaney—specific instructions."

  "The son-of-a-bitch is worried about thieves, huh?" Salvator snapped his fingers and pointed at the car.

  Studsy trotted over to the trunk and pounded on its deck. From within the limo Herb pulled release latch and the trunk popped open. Studsy rummaged around in it. After several seconds, he returned with a bolt cutter.

  "Do the honors, Shamus," he growled, and jabbed me in the ribs with the cutter.

  I took it from him and went over to the lock. For a moment, I held my breath. If the cases were not as I had left them, I was as good as dead. Then I cut the lock and pushed the barn doors wide.

  Dominic giggled nervously as the sun glinted on stacks of brown cardboard boxes. "At least they're all here, Sal!"

  "No thanks to you," his brother grunted.

  "Delaney's alright, Sal," Dominic said. "He just had the stuff moved to protect our interests after Eli got whacked. If he hadn't, most of the stuff would've been grabbed by the cops during the investigation."

  "Which is why we're supposed to pop for a payoff or he flushes the stuff?" Salvator countered, angrily.

  "You pissed him off, Sal," Dominic said. "Shouldn't have accused him of stealing!"

  "I never trusted that ugly bastard from day one."

  Dominic let go another nervous laugh. "Don't worry about it, Sal. He won't take the money. He was just jerking your chain."

  "You goddamn right he won't take it," Sal roared. Then he pointed at the boxes. "Count. Make sure everything's there!"

  I lit a cigarette and smiled to myself as Dominic scampered from case to case counting on his fingers. Then, I drifted back over to the limousine. Near the ranch house, I saw Tramp dancing around, batting his pants legs. Cootie was following him bent over like a sniffing hound as he scratched his ankles.

  "Will you look at them two assholes?" Herb grunted, staring at the gyrating men. "What the fuck are they doing?"

  I knew what they were doing, but I could tell Herb didn't. Which gave me the beginnings of a plan. Playing on his obvious homophobia might just tilt things in a direction I could use.

  "You never can tell, can you?" I said, as Tramp and Cootie continued their examination of the ranch house. "At least they're not in drag."

  He gave me a surprised glance and the nodded. "It looks like they've gone goddamn queer, don't it?"

  "Far be it from me to cast the first stone, Herb."

  "Wouldn't surprise me a bit if they both had brothers getting' sex change operations, too," he grunted, as he stared at the pair. "And to think I went to goddamn Tramp's wedding. Probably married a fuckin' guy with tits. I heard about them, too. Disgusting what doctors do these days."

  "I'm with you, Herb. And it ain't just a problem with Sicilians. We had a couple Norwegians on the force that went the same way. Both married and churchgoers. Then, one night they missed a call. The captain sent out a patrol to investigate. And there they were, in the back of the cruiser pumping each other's buns."

  He gave a dismal wag of his head. "Christ, what's the world coming to?"

  "How's the family, Herb?" I asked. "You're brother still living with that guy who does needlework?"

  "They're just good friends," he snapped. Then he leaned over the steering wheel, and tapped the windshield. "Those two start pumping anything and I'm gonna' shoot the both of 'em."

  "The hell of it is, Herb, that stuff's contagious." "Once it starts in an organization it spreads like wildfire. One minute you're dressed to the nines in silk suits. The next you're wearing lavender shirts, tight chinos and thinking about getting a flower shop when you retire. You raise roses, don't you Herb?"

  Herb spat out the limo's side-window just missing my arm. "It's because I like the goddamn smell, wise ass."

  I patted his shoulder. "You're just too good a Catholic, Herb. I think you should've been a priest."

  He nodded seriously. "That's what ma tells me. I just couldn't do without the broads or I would've."

  "Is she still running that whorehouse in Nevada?"

  He nodded before pointing at the two men by the ranch house. Tramp had his suit-pants off and was rubbing his legs as if showing off his muscles. While Cootie flogged his own legs with a piece of sagebrush as his other hand groped inside his pants.

  "Sweet Jesus. Will you look at that? You can't tell me they ain't gone queer." Then Herb hit the electric locks. "I suspected Cootie from the start! Wearin' that fancy cologne and those fancy-spancy fold-over-cuff shirts."

  "Thank God you're not sharing rooms with him at the hotel," I mused.

  "Not no more, I ain't. Those two goddamn queers can bunk together."

  I moved to the rear of the limousine and called out to Salvator, "If you're about done taking inventory I've still got time to make that blonde."

  Salvator said something to Dominic and then walked over to where I stood. "Who owns this place?"

  "How in hell would I know?" I replied. "Delaney, I suppose. Ask Bascomb."

  "Who in hell is Bascomb?" Salvator raged.

 
"He's the county prosecutor. You'll be talking to him tomorrow, remember?"

  Salvator jabbed me hard. "You pull a stunt like serving me with subpoena again and it'll be the last thing you do, understand?"

  I blew smoke in his face. "Little things like your threats keep my spirits up, Sal."

  He slapped me hard across the face. "I got plenty of reason to drop you in the ground, right here. So cut the cute act, Bishop. Now, where's this cop friend of yours hiding?"

  I shrugged. "I've told you what I know."

  "Maybe I need to have Tramp and Cootie help you to know more?" Salvator threatened.

  I pointed to the goons running toward the limo from the house. Both men were now stripped to their underwear, waiving their clothing in the air.

  "You may have to wait until they've had a quiet moment, together," I mused. "I think the spring air has gripped their emotions."

  Salvator did a double-take and then yelled at the approaching men, "Have you two lost your goddamn minds?"

  "Bugs!" Cootie shouted back. "Bit my balls."

  "They're eating us alive," Tramp chimed.

  Salvator whirled back to me. "What the hell's going on out here?"

  I shrugged. "Fire ants, I suppose."

  Salvator thumped my chest, again. "One last chance. Where's your pal?"

  I jabbed him hard, rocking Salvator back on his heels. "If Delaney gets in touch I'll let you know. I don't like him putting me in this soup and I'm sure as hell not going to cover for him. As for anything else, I've done my bit to help you. You got your shit back, so keep your hands to yourself before I get miffed and kick your ass all over this barnyard."

  Salvator backhanded me across the face. It stung and my arm cocked and my fist locked before I realized it.

  Studsy noticed the commotion and rushed toward me, gun raised and shouting for Sal to drop to the ground.

  Salvator lifted one hand to stop the approaching guard. "One day, Bishop. And, I'm gonna' have the pleasure of burying you, personally."

  "But, not today, huh? That blonde is unbelievable, Sal."

  He turned and moved several steps toward the barn "Let's go. Cootie, you and Tramp sit on this. I'll have a car delivered with instructions as soon as we get back to town. If Delaney shows up beforehand, kill the bastard."

  "For Christ's sake, Sal, this is gonna' take more than a goddamn car to move," Dominic said.

  "We ain't moving shit, you idiot." Salvator gritted. "We're going to let your pal Delaney pick up the lot. Now, shut the goddamn barn. And I want Delaney watched around the clock. But don't interfere with him. I want him to think the exchange will go as planned."

  "Sal, we only Bishop's claim that Delaney's behind this!" Dominic protested.

  Salvatore gave me a cold glare. "Bishop's not about to make a fatal mistake; are you Bishop?"

  I grinned. "Not with that blonde waiting for me, Sal. Can we go? I'd hate to think this delay has put her off the boil."