Knight In Black Leather

by Gail Dayton

  "Who?"

  "They won't talk to you."

  "Then we wire you up--"

  "I don't have time for a fucking wire. My kid's out there. With Flash. You can come with us if you want, but you come now, 'cause we're leaving now."

  "Okay. I'm coming." Jackson got in the back seat and pulled out a hand-held radio. "I'm breaking a shitload of procedure to do this," he said, before thumbing the button to report in.

  "You think I care?" Eli didn't care about anything but finding Pete and Marilyn.

  The second the doors were shut, Joey wheeled back out into the street.

  "Who's this?" Jackson said.

  "Joe Franks." Joey glanced over his shoulder at the detective. "Marilyn's brother."

  "Yeah? Well, I don't want any vigilante shit out of either one of you."

  "We just want to find them. We'll leave all the vigilante shit to you." Joey pulled up to an intersection as the light turned green. "Where to now, Eli?"

  "Left." Eli directed him to Nicky's bar. This time he wasn't handicapped by plaster. This time, he intended to get answers to some questions.

  Marilyn and Slug worked on the board forever, though her watch claimed only thirty minutes or so had passed. The boy tired quickly. Marilyn suspected Flash had been withholding food as well as beating him. She made him rest every so often, while she attacked it alone. He never rested long enough.

  The first inch was the hardest. They yanked and rocked the board, pulled, tugged, jerked, trying anything and everything. Slowly, bit by tiny smidgen, the nails worked loose from the window frame. Once they got them out a certain distance, they could work one end of the board against the other. When it finally came loose, it came all at once, unexpectedly. Marilyn and Slug staggered back and sat down hard in tandem, still clutching the board.

  Marilyn laughed, trying to keep the hysteria out. "We did it! We got it off."

  She threw her arms around Slug and hugged him tight. He hugged her back after a second's hesitation, then pulled away.

  "Hang onto the board," he said, handing it to her. "Maybe you can use it when the Flashman comes back."

  Marilyn looked at the yard-long board with the long, bent nails sticking through either end, and shuddered. Could she use it on another human being? But then, did Flash qualify as one? "I'd have to be careful he doesn't take it and use it on me."

  "You're right. Dumb idea."

  "No, it's not a dumb idea. It's a good idea. I'll just have to--surprise attack. It would work that way." Marilyn set the board aside. She stood and took Slug's hand to pull him up.

  She unlatched the window and shoved, praying that they hadn't worked so hard only to find the window had been nailed shut too. It squealed and moved half an inch. Slug came to help, not easy, since the window swung up and out.

  "If we can't get it open," she panted. "We can break it and lay the blanket over the frame to protect you from the glass."

  Slug gave her a peculiar look. "Broken window'll make it cold as hell in here."

  "So?" She shoved on the window again. "You'll be out."

  "So I can get help."

  "Yes." The window moved three or four inches in a sudden jerk, then stopped again.

  "What if I don't? I don't like cops."

  Marilyn looked at him, still pushing on the window. "Please, don't do that. Please, Slug." Her eyes filled with tears and she had to look away, only for a second. She stopped wrestling with the window and turned to face him.

  "You have to tell them where Pete is. You have to. Use a payphone. Call 9-1-1. You don't have to have any money to do that. I'd give you money if I had my purse, but Flash took it. If you'll just call and tell them--you don't have to do it in person. Please." She didn't bother trying to wipe the tears away. "Please? You're Pete's only hope."

  "Yeah, okay, sure. I'll do it." He looked at his feet. "Stop crying, okay?"

  She stretched onto her toes and reached for the window, wiping her face on her sleeve as it passed. "Okay." She sniffled. "You'll do it?"

  "I said I would. I promise, okay?"

  Marilyn banged at the window, getting it most of the way open, and turned back to the boy. "Don't just disappear afterward, Slug. I need to know you're all right too. I--you said you don't have anywhere to go. Go to Eli. Dicenzo's Cycle and Engine Shop out in Hillside. If Eli's not there, his partner will help you. Frank Dicenzo. I went to school with Frank. He looks a little rough, but he'll help. Promise me that too."

  "I--" He licked his lips and cleared his throat. "You don't have to--I'm not--"

  "Promise me." Marilyn grabbed his arm, wanting to shake him. "I have to know you're both safe. Who knows what's happening to Pete now?" She swallowed down the sob that wanted out. "But I won't sacrifice you to save him. You both have to be safe. Both of you. You hear me? Now promise. Promise me you'll go to Eli."

  "Yeah, okay. Whatever." He seemed uncomfortable with her intensity, but she didn't care.

  "Not whatever. Promise me."

  "I promise."

  "What? What do you promise?"

  "I'll call 9-1-1."

  "And?"

  The boy took a deep breath. "I'll go to Eli."

  Marilyn nodded. "Okay, then."

  She laced her hands together to give him a leg up, and balked when he put his bare foot in them. "You can't go out like that. It's freezing outside."

  "I'll be okay--"

  "No." She kicked off her shoes. "Try those."

  They didn't fit him, despite the fact that she wore a size nine. Slug had obviously reached the foot-growth stage of adolescent development. She pulled off her socks and put her shoes back on.

  "They won't help much, especially if they get wet." She handed the socks over. "But they're better than nothing."

  Slug sat on the floor and silently pulled them on.

  "Ready?" She pulled him up when he took her hand.

  He put his arms around her in a brief, gentle hug, then kissed her cheek as he let go. "Yeah. Let's do it."

  Again, Marilyn laced her fingers together and this time boosted him toward the window when he set his foot in the cup they made. He wriggled out through the gap, more quickly once he got his shoulders through, and stopped long enough to shove the window mostly closed again with his foot. "So Flashman won't see it and get suspicious," he whispered through the crack.

  "Yes. Now go," Marilyn almost shouted back.

  She couldn't see anything out in the darkness, nor could she hear him move in sock feet, but she knew he had gone. Now, alone in her basement prison, she had nothing to distract her from the worries flooding her mind. Now, images of Slug's condition overlaid themselves on Pete.

  Marilyn leaned back against the wall and slid down it until she was sitting on the floor. She propped her elbows on her knees, dropped her face in her hands and started to pray.

  "You stay here," Eli said to Jackson, when Joey parked the car down the street from Nicky's.

  "Like hell I am."

  "Yeah, you are." Eli twisted in the seat to look at him. "You'll be made the second you walk through the door. I'm not going in there with a cop."

  "What about him?" Jackson gestured at Joey.

  "He'll blend. He's my new boyfriend."

  "I thought you weren't gay."

  "I'm not. But I'm damn good at pretending." Eli opened the door.

  "I'll give you five minutes, then I'm coming in."

  "Give us ten, and pretend you don't know us."

  "Shit." Jackson slumped back against the seat.

  Eli tried to loosen up as he walked to the bar beside Marilyn's brother, but he couldn't. He couldn't stop wondering what hell Flash was putting his son through. Marilyn was with Pete. He had to keep telling himself that. Marilyn would protect Pete--which was a whole different kind of agony. He knew she would try. And Flash would retaliate.

  A vision of Teresa at the morgue slammed through Eli's mind and he had to stop outside the bar and empty his stomach.

  "You okay?" Joey asked
. "You got time yet to tell me what the hell is going on?"

  "Later." Joey was his only ally in Marilyn's family, and Eli needed him right now. The minute Joey knew just what kind of trouble Eli had dragged Marilyn into, he'd beat hell out of him. He deserved it. But not now. Not till they found her. Not till they found Pete.

  "I'm good." Eli wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pushed into the bar.

  "Yeah." Joey came in right behind him. "I'm worried too."

  It took some serious cruising and a lot of code words to identify Flash's clientele. Even then, Eli couldn't get anything solid. They were too suspicious of anyone they didn't know.

  Jackson came in, creating a bubble of space around himself where he sat at the bar. A blond in drag worked up the nerve to approach, but quickly wilted when Jackson turned his piercing stare on him. He just sat there and drank his club soda.

  Finally, after rescuing Joey from his fourth proposition, Eli decided he'd have to take a different tack. He left the bar, Joey in tow, hoping Jackson wouldn't be too obvious about following them out. He sent Joey back to the car and waited down the street, near the alley where he'd been attacked all those weeks before.

  The cold had him hoping Pete and Marilyn were someplace warm, maybe even still in her car. It was almost April, but nights still hovered right around freezing. They were together. Surely they'd be warm enough. Eli blew on his hands and watched the door of the bar.

  Jackson came out and joined Joey in the car. After a brief conversation, he slumped down in the back seat, like he was taking a nap. Good. If the cops weren't watching, that gave Eli a few more options for his plan of attack.

  His feet were about frozen off and the tip of his nose was beyond numb when he saw what he was waiting for. One of Flash's customers coming out of the bar alone. Coming this way.

  Eli faded back into the shadows at the mouth of the alley. The footsteps came on, strong and steady. Must not have had too much to drink. It would make the guy more alert, tougher to handle, but Eli had righteous anger on his side. Nothing would keep him from finding his son.

  The man reached the alley and Eli struck, grabbing him by the coat and swinging him around to slam against the brick wall. Headlights from a passing car illuminated the man's face, and Eli's stomach twisted. His rage flared higher. Here in the dark, away from the colored lights and neon inside Nicky's, he recognized the man. He'd known him. Years ago. Known him far better than he'd ever wanted.

  "Hello, Mr. Masters," he said, his voice quiet, rough-edged. "Remember me?" And he slammed the man against the bricks again, banging his head. Eli doubted Masters was his real name. He'd have been stupid to use it. But that was how Eli knew him.

  The man struggled to get free and Eli drove his fingers into his throat, using one of the self-defense techniques he'd learned long after he needed them.

  Masters went still. "What d'you want?"

  "I'd love to take a lot of history out of your hide," Eli hissed. "But I'll leave that to the cops. I want my son."

  "Son?" Masters' eyes had gone wide at mention of the cops. "I don't have him."

  "You and I both know just how close you were to Fat Fred." Eli had to force the hand at Masters' throat to relax after it tightened convulsively at the man's pretend innocence. Maybe he didn't have Pete, but he sure as hell wasn't innocent. "And Dwayne Gardner took over after his daddy died. So I figure you know how he operates. Where he hides his kids. And you're going to tell me where every one of those places are."

  "Why should I?" Masters trembled through his show of bravado.

  Eli's hand twitched again. This time, it took longer to force it open. "You really don't want to ask me that question, you fucking son of a bitch. I'm not fifteen any more. I haven't been fifteen for a very long time. But I remember everything."

  He yanked Masters deeper into the alley where light beside the bar's back door would fall on his own face, and he jerked the man upright. Using his grip on Masters' throat, Eli forced his head up. "Recognize me now, fucker? Think ten years back."

  The man's pasty face went even more pale. "Little Eli?"

  Eli showed his teeth. "Some of us do grow up. I was you, I'd want to go to the cops. They don't owe you what I do."

  "Wh-what do--?" Masters sagged, almost choking himself.

  "I told you. I want my son. I want to know every place Flash Gardner has used or thought about using for the past six years. You give me what I want, and I'll let the cops have you."

  "N-no, please." He clutched at Eli's wrist, using it to hold himself up.

  Eli shook with rage, let Masters see it. "Them or me, fucker. Your choice."

  "Everything all right here, Court?" Jackson called from the mouth of the alley.

  "Just fine, Detective," Eli called back, never taking his eyes off Masters.

  Jackson waved and disappeared.

  "See?" Eli hissed. "We're looking for a little boy, asshole. Nine years old. Younger than you like 'em. You know how cops are about little kids. You know how everybody is. You don't tell what you know, nobody's gonna care what I do."

  "I'll tell you, okay? I'll tell." He whimpered. Masters actually whimpered. The last ten years had been hard on him. "I need to take a leak."

  Eli grabbed him by the back of the coat and marched him toward Joey's car. "Piss in your pants. You take that dick out anywhere near me, you won't have it no more."

  "Oh, God." Masters did it. He wet his pants.

  The others got out of the car as Eli approached, swearing, hauling Masters along.

  "Shit." Joey glared at Eli. "I don't want that in my car."

  Jackson pulled out his radio. "There's a patrol car a couple of blocks away. They can take him."

  "You got a map, Joey?" Eli slammed Masters into the hood of the car. "This sick son of a bitch is going to show us all Dwayne's hiding places."

  "Sorry." Joey looked around like he thought he could pull one out of thin air. "No city map."

  "Patrol car will have one," Jackson said.

  Eli swore, but he could only wait.

  Jackson got out a notepad and pen, and slapped them down on the hood of the car. "Start writing addresses."

  Several minutes later, the patrol car pulled up with its uniformed officers. They provided a map and Masters, shaking like a Chihuahua in a snowstorm, circled the addresses he'd been writing down. He came up with half a dozen more places, now he didn't have to remember street numbers. A few minutes later, he was cuffed and in the back of the car, on his way to the station. Jackson was on the air, relaying the addresses to dispatch.

  Twenty-Two

  ***

  The bosses decided a simultaneous sweep would have the best chance of keeping anyone from slipping through police fingers, but Eli chafed at the delay necessary to coordinate the attack. He understood, even agreed with the reasoning, but every second that passed was another second his son spent in that sick bastard's hands.

  Thank God he didn't have anything left in his stomach, because the way it was twisting and churning now... It felt like the ulcer he'd had when he fled Pittsburgh was trying to come back. At the station, waiting, Eli paced, trying to keep out of the way, trying not to think.

  Joey brought Eli a cup of the engine sludge that passed for coffee here. Eli accepted it without looking at him. He still couldn't face Marilyn's brother, not with him knowing about...stuff.

  "They'll find them," Joey said.

  "Yeah." Eli took a sip, needing the burn as it slid down his throat. Would they find them soon enough? He didn't quite dare say it out loud.

  "Are you mad at me for something?" Joey stepped in front of Eli, blocking his pacing path.

  "No. I'm not mad." Eli sidestepped. "Not at you."

  Joey sidestepped with him. "Then, what the hell is going on? That's family out there. We need to work together, but you cut me off like I don't exist."

  "It's not that." Eli looked at him, finally. But all he saw in Joey's face was confusion, hurt, and anger. "I didn't thi
nk you'd want to--"

  "What? Wait for word with the guy my sister loves?"

  Eli jerked, sloshing coffee over his hand. He barely felt the heat. "Marilyn doesn't love me."

  "Then she's doing a damn fine imitation of it."

  "She can't." Eli set the cup down and wiped his hand, shaking his head the whole time. "It's insane. All this happened because of me. It's my fault--"

  "Bullshit--" Joey began, then broke off as Jackson approached.

  Eli looked up, unable to stop the hope that sprang up. "News?"

  "Yeah. We found her car. Nothing inside, but it's definitely hers by the license plate and VIN."

  "Where?" Joey asked.

  "On the north side of the river, on the bluffs above the freeway behind an old house."

  "Will you take us there?" Eli stuck his hands in his pockets to hide their shaking. Where could Flash have taken them?

  Jackson shrugged. "Don't see why not."

  "I want to be there, when the raid goes down. Somewhere close, anyway," Eli said. "Will going to see the car get in the way of that?"

  "Shouldn't. I've got my radio. It'll be a while longer getting everything in position."

  "Let's go then." Joey led the way out of the building.

  Marilyn sat on the lumpy mattress, her back against the wall, legs stretched straight out in front of her, and worried at the nails in the board. The concrete floor under the window had been cold enough to drive her to the stained mattress, but she wasn't cold enough yet to touch the blanket. She'd have to get a whole lot colder than this.

  Pete's terrified face edged back into her mind, and her fear had the knife Flash wielded growing to a foot long as it lay against Pete's neck. Marilyn whispered yet another prayer and attacked the nails with more force. If she could get one or two of the nails out of the end of the board, they might give her yet another weapon to use against Flash when he came back. And working at the task helped distract her thoughts.

  Slug--she couldn't make herself think of the boy that way without wincing--had been gone almost an hour by her watch. Had he found a pay phone? One that worked? In this part of Pittsburgh, that could be hard to find. Was he even trying? Would he keep his promise?