Chapter 22
I had given Glen my Taurus earlier. I didn’t want to leave it on the boat and I didn’t want to be packing it in case they frisked me or searched the boat. He seemed to read my mind. He pulled a drawer open and pushed the loaded .38 across the desk. Then he dropped a baggie of extra shells on the wood with a metallic thump. I picked it up, pulled the hammer back and spun the cylinder.
“You drive,” I said.
“Where to?”
Panko had repeated the phrase “safe from prying eyes” exactly twice. Once when he was telling us about the location of the stash of heroin in the basement of their office building, and again when he suggested where Sunny might be hidden. Then our pal Lurch had said that Sunny was “safe under lock and key,” exactly the words Panko had used when assuring us the dope was in a place where it wouldn’t be discovered. It was a long shot, but it was the only one we had.
Glen drove the Interceptor slowly through the streets. He pulled around to the back of the building and parked in the shadows across from the loading dock. He popped the trunk. Cops often keep some miscellaneous tools in the back of the cars. I was desperately hoping for bolt cutters. They were under a couple of sheets of greasy cardboard. I grabbed the handle and felt the edge of the jaws. These would do.
I pointed silently to the aluminum roll up door above the concrete platform. I got to my knees and looked through the crack underneath. I saw a faint gleam of light in the back to the left. Glen handed me a dirty rag. I placed the lock in the teeth of the bolt cutters and wrapped the rag around them. Then I pushed the handles together. I could feel the steel bite into steel. Luckily someone had decided to save a buck or two on hardware. The shaft on the lock was thin and it snapped with little effort. The door was well-oiled and we lifted it just enough to crawl into the basement with the barest whisper of fabric on concrete.
We crept toward the light, staying against a stack of boxes that lined the wall. There was a gray metal cage in the corner with a bolt on the door. A green metal folding chair was on one side and an empty pizza box sat next to it. On the dusty floor was a sleeping bag with a woman curled up in a fetal position. I could see her shoulders heave slightly. At least she was alive.
A wooden chair was propped up against the wall outside the cage. Fireplug’s stand in lay back snoring like a wounded bull. I pulled the .38 and we eased across the concrete. Suddenly I heard a loud click behind us. Lurch had a .45 automatic pointed at my chest. He waved it back toward Glen and gave us a toothy smile.
“Wake up, Elvis. We got company.”
The legs of the chair hit the ground and the brick-like sidekick stumbled to his feet. He yawned, blinked the sleep out of his eyes and leered at me. Lurch took another step forward swinging the .45 back and forth like a reaper ready to cut stalks of dead wheat.
“Glad to see you Doc. You, too, Glen. Place the little heater on the ground. Be gentle. This baby has a hair trigger and the safety is off. And here we thought you guys were on a little sea cruise. Too bad you missed it, but I’m guessing you’ll both be in for a long swim before the night is over. Might be tough when you’re full of lead, but maybe you’ll manage. You got some ringers on your boat Professor? Leo will be interested to hear it.”
He pulled a cell phone out of his back pocket and shook it like a giant kid taunting trapped animals at the zoo. Glen took a slow step to his right and I leaned in the opposite direction. I bent down toward the Taurus. Lurch focused on me and dared me with is eyes. He wanted me to lunge for the .38. Then he could empty the clip on me and Glen and bask in deadly glee.
“Try it, Doc.”
Suddenly Glen whirled like some demented dervish. His foot slung around and hit the gun hand. I heard the clatter of metal and a hideous screech as it slid across the floor. I grabbed the .38 and pointed it at the sidekick. He froze.
Lurch grinned again and rolled his shoulders. This was going to be his favorite kind of fun. He towered over Glen and must have outweighed him by close to a hundred lbs. His eyes glowed a hideous yellow like a feral cat about to pounce on a helpless mouse.
“I’m glad you did that, little man. Now I can break you in half with my bare hands, just like I did that stupid Albert. Yeah, Doc, it was me, not your boy here. He couldn’t hurt a crippled nun.”
He lunged, but Glen ducked under his arm and drove an elbow into Lurch’s ribs. The giant staggered, but only for a second. He took a deep breath and his face became that of a demon. I wanted to put a slug in his gut, but they were too close for me to risk it without maybe hitting Glen. Now a huge fist came roundhouse at Glen’s head. He stepped inside the arc, blocked it with his forearm and chopped at Lurch’s Adam’s Apple. Then he snatched his massive head, pivoted and flipped the monster over his shoulder like a rag doll. Lurch slammed onto his back. He fought for breath, then got to his knees again, shaking his head in addled disbelief. Glen clapped his hands against the monster’s ears. He jerked. Another elbow. This time to the back of the neck. Now Lurch was stunned. A river of blood ran down his left cheek. Glen locked an arm around the head in a choke hold, his open hand against Lurch’s temple. The short man’s eyes flashed and burned like a demented banshee. He looked at me for a second, like a child begging forgiveness. I shook my head.
“Don’t do it, Glen. It’s not worth it. We may need him.”
Glen looked at me and sobbed. A single tear ran down his cheek and his lower lip quivered. He focused on me for a moment, then dropped his chin almost to his chest.
“Sorry, T.K.” he spit through gritted teeth, “this is for Paul and BelleAmie.”
The snap split the air like a bullwhip. Lurch’s head lolled at a contorted angle. It hung on his shattered neck like a rotten melon. His body collapsed in a pile of lifeless flesh. The sidekick was smarter than he looked. When I turned back to the spot where he was standing, the space was empty. We searched for a minute, but he had vanished into the darkness.
We searched the pockets of the corpse, but there was no key. Glen went back for the bolt cutters while I spoke softly to Sunny. She wasn’t crying, but the skin on her face had melted into pale wax and her mascara ran down her cheeks in a bad impersonation of Alice Cooper. She had no words.
She put her arms around me and whispered, “I knew you would come, my Ghostcatcher.”
I grimaced as I held her.
We went back to the Interceptor and Glen climbed behind the wheel. We eased out of the parking lot and went back to Glen’s office. Daylight was breaking to the east. The orange cast was brilliant and I hoped . . . promising. We settled on no cops until the bust in Fells Point was complete. Glen poured us all a belt of well-deserved Knob Creek while Sunny told her story. They had picked her up on the way out of her evening class. Just our dearly departed Lurch and his sidekick in the black Escalade. They told her they were planning a little fun before the day was out. She’d ‘love it’, they promised, but they hadn’t hurt her. It wasn’t because they didn’t want to, and the promises unraveled her. Thank God they hadn’t been able to keep them. She was scared, but my blond professor was one tough lady.
Glen and I checked out Sunny’s apartment carefully before we went in. The door was still bolted and everything inside looked undisturbed. I took her arm and led her in. Then Glen left in the Interceptor. I made coffee and found some Aunt Jemima pancake mix in the cupboard, half a quart of milk in the fridge with some butter. Time to whip up some breakfast. Sunny was snoring on the couch before the skillet got hot.
I was sipping the steaming brew and watching the butter run over the brown beauties when I felt my cell vibrate in my pocket.
“The jest is on you, my fuckhead friend. You may call your confidantes at the D.E.A. The boxes are full of sugar and flour. The Boss Lady suspected your intentions were insincere from the beginning, but we felt you did merit an opportunity. I only regret that we did not dispatch your learned female companion. Perhaps next time. And you may tell Mr. Macklin to rest assured that
we will see him in the future.”
He hung up.
Panko’s voice spit shards of malevolent ice. I had no doubt that all of us better be checking our backs at regular intervals. I dialed the number of my federal buddy.
“Fells Point Takedown. We’ve been had.”
In less than five minutes the cell rang. I told Agent Joseph Bellini about the one-sided conversation I’d had with Panko. He instructed me to stay available and put me on hold. I didn’t have to wait long. The agents on KAMALA had opened the boxes. Sugar and flour, just like the man said. The agents were headed back to Tidal Refuge.
Epilogue
Panko didn’t contact Pam and Shorty again. Time to cut his losses, I suspected. Sunny and I went to HIGH FLYER’s final gig at the AUSTIN. The place was packed. When the Diva appeared, the crowd stood and applauded while wolf whistles and miscellaneous chants filled the air. Shorty was on stage, his hand still in a cast, but two fingers encased in a glass pill bottle and the Fender Strat hanging over his shoulder like it had never left home. The strings screamed and they slid into George Thorogood’s Mannish Boy classic “Bad to the Bone.” I’d never seen Shorty playing slide guitar, but he milked every note and Pam wailed like a haunted child.
After the final set, she came over to our table. She put her arm around my neck and said nothing. Then she planted a sweet delicate kiss on my cheek. I smelled the sweat, felt the caress of her hot breath on my cheek and the smear of her lipstick. I started to rub it off. Sunny took my hand away. “Leave it,” she said, “it suits you.” Shorty smiled and waved. It was the last time we saw them. They signed with the other agency and left the area quickly.
Glen continued to operate The Macklin School of Self Defense, but he was looking for a band that needed a good bass. I talked to him on the phone a couple of times, but I didn’t see him again. I told him about Panko’s warning. It really didn’t seem to bother him at all.
I called Bill to fill him in on bust gone wrong.
“Sometimes the bad guys win.” he said, “and if I were you, I’d get out of town and take Sunny with me . . . soon. They’ll wait, but they won’t wait long. It’s bad for business.”
I thanked him and told him I was working on it.
We never did find out who the Boss Lady was.
Alison Bondura was elected in a landslide. She was inaugurated as the smiling . . . make that smirking, long-nosed Mayor of Norfolk in January.
Sunny spent the winter sending out resumes. She had already established a reputation as a competent and dedicated educator. Norfolk got very cold, and most of the applications went to colleges in Florida. I got a deal on an alarm system for KAMALA. I kept the Taurus, oiled and loaded, with me constantly and watched our backs as best I could. Sunny bought a nice little Ruger .22 automatic to carry in her pocketbook. It seemed quiet, but Bill’s words echoed in my ear from time to time. “They won’t wait too long.”
Sunny and I were both hoping to celebrate the summer solstice a little farther south. erHerHHH
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