Maria tossed her head back, throwing the long black hair back out of her face. "Oh, yeah, I see what you mean. Of course, because I'm not lying. Yeah, go ahead and call. I'll give you the number," Maria said, full of confidence.
George wasn't as certain as she was. He hadn't missed the look that passed between the men when Mickie's name was mentioned. "Maria...," he began, then caught himself when she looked down at him. He didn't know what to say. George climbed up off the floor where he had remained ever since he got knocked down. It was better to remain down than to continue to get knocked around as long as you were on your feet.
"Don't worry," Maria said happily, sure now that she could straighten the trouble out. It was just like men to make mountains out of molehills. "Here," she yelled, as she fumbled around in her purse, "take this number and get in touch with Mickie. The quicker you call, the sooner we'll have this crap straightened out. Oh yes, ask him to get me a piece of stuff ready. I'll pick it up in a little while."
Pedro only grinned at her. He didn't bother to reach out and take the number from her hand. She stared at him surprised and, before she could ask any questions, Pedro spoke to the heavyset Jay.
"Okay, Jay, she says she's a friend of your people so it's only fair that you do the calling," Pedro said, his thin face almost bursting into a grin that only he seemed to understand.
Jay didn't seem too happy about his task. He stared around dumbly, not wanting to look anybody in the eyes. Slowly he made his way over to the telephone and picked up the receiver. Everybody noticed that he didn't have to ask anyone for the number. He quickly dialed Mickie's, then spoke into the receiver quickly.
From the look on his face, the people could tell that he wasn't particularly pleased about the news that he received. Jay put his hand over the receiver and spoke to the group of people watching him.
"Mickie says he hasn't seen Fat George or his woman in over a month," Jay said, relaying the message that he had received.
George just stared coldly out the window. He had already put it together. Mickie wanted his business, so what other way was easier for him to get it than to allow these young punks to do what he didn't have the nerve to do himself.
But Maria didn't take it that easily. When Jay's words finally made sense to her, she began to yell. "Let me speak to the lying sonofabitch," she screamed at the top of her voice. "I can't believe it," she continued. "It's just not possible, George." She turned to him for the first time. The open disbelief in her face hurt George. For the first time he realized just how much this woman had come to mean to him.
"Maria," he began, "don't you see what's hap- penin', girl? Somebody had to tell these lies on me, so who else could gain from it except Mickie? We should have seen through it sooner, that's all. I wish there was some way we could prove that sonofabitch is lying, but for the life of me, I can't!"
Pedro let out a chilling laugh. "You're right about that! It ain't no way in the world for you to prove it. Your proof just went out the goddamn door!"
"Emilio," George said, turning to the older brother, "can't you see through this shit? Listen, man, I don't even need the money. I got thirty thousand dollars in that suitcase right there."
Even though they didn't want to look, every man inside the apartment glanced towards the suitcase. "With that kind of money, Emilio, don't you know I'd have to be a fool to sell some dope to them spades, man? Why, I don't love them guys, amigo, I just did business with them. Better to see them strung out than our young people, right?"
George glanced around to see if his words had made any sense. He had taken a great risk telling them about the hidden money, but it was the only way he believed he might be able to save his life.
Maria stared at him curiously. She had known about the money, yet she would have never believed George would come out and tell anybody else about it. It was their life savings, everything they had worked for was packed away in that suitcase. Even as she thought about it, she realized that their troubles were worse than she imagined. George would never have revealed the location of the money unless their lives were at stake.
It was hard for her to accept that these young boys would really kill them. But George had panicked, and maybe that was all it was, she reasoned. Then she stopped. There was no use fooling herself if their lives were at stake.
Maria raised her head and began to scream at the top of her voice.
Pedro was the first one to reach her. He knocked her down with a vicious blow to the head, but it didn't hush her up. She covered her head and continued to scream. "You want to rob us, that's all," she yelled up at them. "You come in here talking about selling dope to the niggers, but that's a lie. All the time you just wanted to rob us. George, you're the fool for telling them where our money is!"
A vicious kick by Pedro hushed her up. She rolled over on the floor clutching her stomach. "Next time you open your mouth, I'll kick all your teeth out!" Pedro warned.
George turned on Emilio. "Every time you came to me sick, Emilio, I never turned you down. Never," George stated, then continued, "yet you come over to my house talkin' this shit about selling stuff to blacks when you know I never did. Okay, you want to rob me, okay, now what? Take all my money. What next? You guys going to kill me and my wife, huh? Not because of no blacks, though. Let's be truthful about it. You so-called Mexicans are just a bunch of thieves, that's all! If you had needed money, you could have come to me and got it, but that's not good enough! You want it all!"
Before he could say any more, Pedro stepped up and floored him. As he rolled over, Pedro kicked him viciously in the face. "Now, let's quit playing games. We want to know where you drop the dope off for these black studs. Okay, George, let's have the truth. No more of this robbery crap. We came for information on those niggers you run around with, and we're going to get it!"
Emilio looked as if he wanted to say something to his younger brother but just couldn't find the nerve. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
Neat, well-dressed Vic pushed away from the wall. "Pedro, I don't know, man, it's not going like we hoped. Now, there's a lot of bread in that suitcase, man, so why don't we just pick it up and get the hell out of here?"
Pedro whirled on him. "What the hell are you talking about, Vic? We didn't come here like common criminals to rob and then sneak away. We came to make this dude talk about niggers." Pedro's eyes took on that faraway, wild look. "Niggers, man, that's what killed my people, black niggers!" He whirled around on his brother.
"And you, Emilio, you should feel the same way. Nothing will make you happy but the sight of some black niggers wallowing around on the ground trying to hold in their fuckin' guts! This is what you should be interested in, Emilio, not no fuckin' money some bastard made selling it to them black dogs."
Emilio wiped the sweat off his brow. He didn't know what to say to his brother. In the last few days things had changed so. Now he didn't know which way was up.
"I don't know about you," Vic stated, "but I'm damn sure interested in the money!"
At the sound of his words, Maria rolled over on the floor and sat up. "See," she screamed, pointing her finger at them, "I told you bastards that it was the money that you wanted! Come in here spilling that crap about niggers when all the time you knew it was just an excuse to rob us!"
Her words seemed to drive Pedro into a rage. The young man rushed at her wildly, kicking and punching as she rolled over on the floor trying to get out of his way. Suddenly he stopped and removed his long switchblade knife.
Maria's eyes grew large as windowpanes as she stared up at the wild man approaching her. "Oh, my God," she gasped.
As Pedro went past George, the fat man stuck out his foot and tripped the frantic young man. "Emilio," he screamed, "are you going to let your brother cut us up? Amigo, I said you can have the money, now why the bloodshed?"
"Goddamn you," Pedro screamed as he scrambled around on his knees. "I'm going to gut you, you fat bastard! You stinkin' dope-selling lar
d of shit!" His voice rose and fell, but his intentions never wavered. He held the knife out in front of him as he crawled towards George. Before any of the shocked men could react, Pedro had reached the prone figure and plunged the knife deeply into one of George's outstretched legs. George let out a scream of pain as the knife went in. There was more than just pain behind his yells, there was fear for his life. He knew that the wild-eyed young man meant to kill him. His only hope now seemed to be that one of their neighbors would hear and call the police.
Maria lent her voice to the screaming. She saw the blood when Pedro brought the knife out of her man's leg. Blood gushed out onto the floor. Maria screamed over and over again. She had been hoping somehow that the noisy old woman who lived below them would hear and call the police.
Jay stepped in front of Pedro. "Pedro," he pleaded, "let's just take the money, amigo, and split. If we should want this punk, man, we'll know where to find him."
George climbed up against the wall and leaned back. The pain in his leg was just beginning, but he could easily endure it if that was all that happened. But he was not to be that lucky. He watched as the wild-eyed Pedro shoved past Jay and regained his feet. He rushed over to George, murmuring curses under his breath. Specks of foam seemed to be forming at the corners of his mouth.
George tried to raise his feet and keep his legs in front of him. As Pedro came rushing up, George raised one of his legs and kicked out with it. Though he had never been a fighter, George realized that his life was involved now. He kicked wildly at the frantic Pedro.
Pedro avoided his leg and bent over and stabbed George twice with the knife. Each time the knife went in, George let out a scream.
"Goddamn it, Emilio," Vic yelled at the top of his voice, "do something about your brother! He's blow ing his fuckin' marbles!"
Emilio was too shocked by his brother's actions to react. All he could do was stand and stare at Pedro like someone watching a horror movie. He was shocked almost out of his wits!
Maria, unlike Emilio, had seen too much violence in her lifetime not to recognize insanity when she saw it. It was out of hand now, she knew. The only thing she could think of was a way out for herself. George was hurt. She didn't know how badly, but she knew it was serious. If someone didn't do something soon, she might be lying on the floor bleeding alongside George.
Watching for her chance, Maria suddenly jumped up from the floor and made her run for the door. She managed to get it open before she was caught from behind.
As Maria lunged for the door, Pedro saw her and yelled at Jay. "Take care of that lying bitch!" The order worked on the heavyset Jay like a command. Before, as he stood filing his knife, he hadn't known what to do, but now that someone had given him a direct order, he went right into action.
Jay caught Maria from behind. As she opened the door, he grabbed her around the neck and pulled her back inside the apartment. Even though he had her neck, he didn't stop her from screaming until he got her back into the apartment. He didn't even remember sticking the long-bladed knife into her back.
When she fell back into his arms, blood gushed out of the back wound covering his hands and arms. The checkered white jacket he wore was covered with red.
The other two men in the apartment didn't even realize that Jay had stabbed the woman until she screamed. "George, George, he's killing me," Maria yelled hysterically.
The sound of the woman's voice caused Pedro and Emilio to glance at the struggling pair by the door. What they saw would stay in their minds until the day they died. Maria tried to pull away from the pain in her back, and when she finally managed to turn and face Jay, her white blouse was completely covered with blood.
Without even knowing what he was doing, Jay continued to stab the woman. First he hit her in the chest with the knife, then he slashed downward, making a long cut on her neck. Maria slumped in his arms, but it didn't make any difference. Jay was past knowing what he was doing. He was caught up in the bloodrush of the moment.
George managed to get to his feet. As Pedro glanced around to see what his partners were doing, George struck out. He had had a glimpse of Maria and knew in his heart that they didn't stand a chance. All he wanted now was to make someone pay for what they were doing.
George's fist caught Pedro flush in the face, breaking the nose. Pedro let out a scream of pain before George struck him again. George was a fat man, but he was strong. His punches dazed the younger and smaller man.
Before Emilio could come to Pedro's rescue, George raised his foot and kicked the man in the groin. Reaching down for the falling Pedro, George grabbed the front of Pedro's shirt and brought his fist down in a crunching blow on his uplifted face.
Emilio, seeing the punishment his brother was taking, came out of his daze long enough to help. As he went toward the struggling pair, Vic ran around him and grabbed the suitcase. He wanted to open it, but he knew the rest of them would come to their senses before he could finish doing it.
With the suitcase under his arm, Vic rushed for the front door. He stopped in the doorway and took one more glance back at the madness going on inside the blood-spattered flat. For a second, he couldn't take his eyes off the shocking sight.
Emilio had George in a bear hug from the rear. He was pulling the enraged fat man backwards, away from his screaming brother. The stab wounds didn't seem to bother George as he made a frantic last effort to break loose and reach the man in front of him.
Pedro was whimpering like a hurt dog, while feebly wiping at the blood that came streaming down from his broken nose. As Vic watched, George managed to push backwards, slamming Emilio against the wall. The sound of the two bodies hitting the apartment wall was loud.
"Goddamn," Vic muttered over and over again. He hadn't expected anything like this to happen when Pedro had called him up and invited him to take part in the job of putting Fat George in his place. All Vic had believed would happen was that George would get a good ass-kicking to teach him a lesson. Now it was beyond anyone's control.
One look at the woman on the floor was enough to tell a man that murder had been committed. Maria lay at the feet of Jay, who was standing over her body looking stupid. He still held the knife in his huge hand, but he didn't seem to know what he had done. His face had a vacant look about it. He stared around dumbfounded.
"Oh, shit," Vic murmured. It was completely out of hand. Without another look, he pushed the door open and went out. With the money he had in the suitcase, he could put a lot of miles between himself and the police. It was just a matter of time, he believed, before somebody called them up. All the noise they had made should have been reported. As Vic ran down the hallway he noticed people peeping out of their half-open doors. At his approach, they quickly slammed the doors closed again, but they had enough time to get a good look at him.
Well, it wouldn't really matter, he believed, if he was able to get away from here. Vic took the stairway three steps at a time. The large suitcase under his arm caused a little problem with his progress, but it didn't hinder him that much. Before he reached the bottom steps, the door leading to the outside flew open and two uniformed police officers came through.
Vic tried to stop instantly, but his momentum was too great. He clutched at the suitcase as he felt it slipping from his grip. By the time he had the bag firm ly in his grip, he was staring into the barrels of two huge pistols.
"Hold it right there!" one of the officers yelled out loudly.
He might as well have remained silent for all his order meant. Vic didn't have any thoughts of giving himself up. As a picture of the mayhem in the apartment flashed through his mind, Vic whirled around on his heels and started back up the steps. He had to get away. There could be no thoughts of giving up. To surrender would mean he would be charged with murder. Even though he hadn't participated in any of the insanity that had gone down, he had been there, and that was enough to get him convicted.
"I said halt!" the officer called out at the top of his voice.
J
ust a few more feet, Vic prayed as he took the stairway two steps at a time on his way back up. The sound of the policemen cocking their weapons went unheard by the fleeing man as panic filled his very being. The only thing on his mind was flight, nothing else. If he could only gain the top floor, he might be able to avoid the inevitable.
The sound of the pistols never reached him. He was struck in the back and lifted the rest of the way up the stairs. Vic staggered from one side of the hallway to the other, still holding tightly to the suitcase. For some reason, the suitcase was important, though he couldn't think of the reason now. The weight of the bag became too heavy and he let it slip from his grip. He continued to stagger onward.
The policemen ran up the stairway in time to see Vic slowly crumpling against the wall. "Why didn't the bastard stop?" one of the officers said. "Jesus Christ, he never had a chance of getting away."
The other officer glanced over at his partner. "Whatever he was running from, he believed it was bad enough to take a chance with his life!"
An elderly woman came out of her apartment and beckoned to the policemen. As they approached, she began to speak. "I'm Mrs. Davis. I'm the one who called," she stated, as though she was entitled to a medal. When she saw the officers weren't going to say anything, she continued. "It's been going on in that apartment, right there," she stated and pointed out Fat George's apartment. "I don't know what's going on in there, but the woman's been screaming at the top of her lungs, and it's not like them folks. They're generally quiet, even though they're Mexicans. There's seldom any noise made in that apartment."
The sound of the gunshots out in the hallway had done more to bring sanity to the men inside the apartment than anything else could have. Emilio snapped out of the dream-like state he had been in. With one well-placed rabbit punch, he knocked Fat George down to his knees. Before the fat man could open his mouth, Emilio had removed a hankie from his pocket and crammed it down the fat man's throat. George continued to struggle, but another punch to the back of the neck dropped him to the floor.