The Fall Guy

by Simon Wood

  Fisk dropped to one knee and loomed over the Chinese man. “This is the first and last warning to you. I won’t ever hurt you like this again. You have two lovely kids out there. You won’t if you disappoint me next time. Have my money for me next week.”

  Mr. Ho wept in reply.

  “Both of you have ruined my morning.”

  Fisk grabbed Todd by the shirt and thrust him out of the store the way they’d come. Mrs. Ho looked confused and asked if something was wrong. Store patronage had swollen to three and they looked just as confused. The kids understood and immediately rushed in the direction of their father.

  “A small misunderstanding, Mrs. Ho,” Fisk said. “Nothing to worry about.” And he shoved Todd out onto the street.

  By the time he’d gotten Todd to his car, he’d cooled down. He let go of Todd’s shirt, unlocked the doors to his Saab convertible and told him to get in. He drove out to the outskirts of the town to a dingy bar that overlooked the city. The bar wasn’t open but Fisk had keys and let them in. He poured two heavy measures of bourbon, never bothering to ask Todd if he drank let alone liked bourbon. He set the glasses down on the bar with the freshly opened bottle.

  “I don’t know whether to be disappointed or not,” Fisk said after knocking back his bourbon.

  Todd dodged a response and gulped down half the liquor. He let it burn his insides. He needed to be sanitized.

  “You came to kill Carlson, but you couldn’t drop a punch on a poor, dumb immigrant.”

  “You should have warned me.”

  “It was a test.”

  “You get to study for a test.”

  Fisk refreshed their glasses. “Not all tests.”

  “I failed, I suppose.”

  “I haven’t made up my mind. Pass or fail depends on your perspective. To the Carlsons, you failed. You’re no good to them. To your pastor, you passed. You’re a good Christian.”

  “I don’t have a pastor.”

  “You’re not the only one.” Fisk made short work of his second bourbon. He poured again, noticed where this kind of early morning drinking would lead, and capped the bottle and returned it to its shelf. “What did you really come to Seattle for? You said work, but I don’t think so.”

  “A name of a man in San Francisco. I believe the Carlsons deal with him.”

  “Deal with him—how?”

  “I don’t know the details, but he’s part of a drug distribution scam. Stolen luxury cars get driven across country carrying shipments of cocaine in the interior.”

  Fisk made no attempt to deny or confirm the operation. He sipped his bourbon this time.

  “What do you want with this person—a job?”

  “I’ve already worked for him. I just want to give notice.”

  “And you don’t know this person’s name?”

  Todd shook his head.

  “You do suck at this game.”

  “But I’m learning fast.”

  “I’ll take your word for it. Describe your employer.”

  Todd outlined the small man’s description. “Know him?”

  Fisk shrugged. “Let me look into it. I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  Todd drank. This time, he let the liquor warm him and not burn him.

  “What about Jeff Carlson?” Todd asked.

  “What about him?”

  “What are you going to tell him about me?”

  “Haven’t decided, so don’t press me. Okay?”

  They sat in silence for a while. Each of them was lost in their own thoughts. The silence never became awkward or ugly. Todd broke it when his glass was empty.

  “How did you get into this?”

  “In a lot of ways it just happened, but I owe my career to one man.”

  “Jeff Carlson?”

  “Hell, no. I owe everything to someone I truly respected. You would have liked him.”

  “What’s his name?”

  “Munson. He’s dead now.”

  ***

  Todd made it back to his motel by late afternoon. Fisk had left him to his own devices when the manager came to the bar to open up. Away from anyone that had anything to do with the Carlsons, he’d wandered around the town. He ended up at Gas Works Park, sitting opposite the water watching the boats and rowers wander up and down the Sound. As the sun set, the strip club’s boast of hundreds of sexy girls and three ugly ones lured him. He wanted to see just how ugly the ugly ones were. It was the best way to end the day.

  But it wasn’t to be. The ex-marines were waiting for him in the motel’s parking lot. This time, they kept their hands and zip ties to themselves. The ground rules had been set.

  Todd didn’t ask what they wanted and got into the car with them.

  They drove him back to Carlson’s office. It was after five and the building had been evacuated, except for the guards on the security desk. People had better things to do. The ex-marines left him at the doors and he checked in with the guards. The guards okayed his arrival and sent him up. Carlson met him at the elevator.

  “You had a good first day, Fisk tells me.”

  So the man had covered for him. Todd didn’t know why he should have. Maybe Fisk realized the hole he was in and was giving him a way out. It could have been out of kindness, but Todd guessed it was for more business reasons. He could make a real mess of things if he botched something. Even if Carlson learned the truth about Todd and gave him a bullet severance package, that would still bring Carlson attention he didn’t need. Fisk was a guardian angel after all—and not just for the Carlsons.

  Carlson led Todd to his office. “Fisk had some ideas on where you can fit in this organization and I’m happy to let that happen.”

  “Thank you.” Todd wasn’t really sure what else to say. There was a but coming and he braced himself for it.

  Carlson breezed by the unoccupied desks. Even organized crime kept corporate hours these days. He sat down at his desk with the city he ran behind him. Todd sat in the same seat he’d sat in this morning.

  “Obviously, your part in this organization is dependent on you passing your probation.”

  “Jessica?”

  Carlson smiled. “Got it in one. Dispose of her and you’ve got a job for life.”

  “Like Munson?”

  Carlson maintained the smile, but it looked brittle.

  “Like Munson,” he conceded. “I’m in his debt.” The smile fractured and fell away. “And I’ll be in yours, if you can get the job done.”

  “Mr. Carlson, it will be done. By this time next week, Jessica will no longer be a thorn in your side.”

  And Todd meant it.

  ***

  Two days later, Jessica called. In those two days, Todd had done nothing. Fisk covered for him. The word back to Carlson was that he was doing good work. Todd turned tourist and discovered the strip club underestimated the number of ugly girls at their club. He couldn’t fault the management for trying. Their marketing ploy had worked. God bless the free market economy.

  “Todd, I have something.”

  Jessica reeled off an address on the waterfront and he met her there. He’d expected a pretty marina setting, but this was where working fisherman worked. She waited for him at a quay in front of a corroded fishing boat.

  “What’s the plan?” Todd asked.

  “A burial at sea.”

  “I’m going to have a hard time getting him on this boat with you and a gun. I don’t know anything about boats. I’m going to need someone to captain this thing and I’m not too keen on witnesses.”

  “Jeff will drive you out and I’ll drive you back.”

  “Again, there’s the problem of keeping you hidden.”

  “Don’t worry. I won’t be here. I’ll be there.” She pointed to a barge floating out in the distance.

  Jessica piloted the trawler out to the barge. She explained that the place acted as a nice drop off for their incoming cargo. Not all of it reached the port.

  “A floating smuggler’s cove,” Todd
said.

  “And a quiet place for a murder.”

  ***

  “It’s done,” Todd said.

  “What?” Carlson spoke with sleep in his throat.

  He’d called Carlson’s private phone number. He’d given it to Todd at his office. Apparently the phone was a cell of the pay as you go variety. It would be going in the trash after tonight.

  “What you asked, it’s done.”

  “Is it now?” A grin made it down the line. “Come to the office in the morning.”

  “Do you want to see the body before disposal?”

  Carlson pondered that one. Todd knew he couldn’t resist. There was too much pent up hate for him not to want to see.

  “Sure. Where are you?”

  “The barge. Come alone.”

  “Alone?”

  “I don’t want people knowing what I did for you. You bring someone, they are going to tell someone. Eventually, it’s going to get back to Fisk or someone else with alliances belonging to Jessica. When that happens, it’s over for me.”

  “Okay. Alone it is.”

  Todd almost felt sorry for the guy.

  ***

  Todd waited for two hours in the cold on the barge. The wind and spray cut through his clothes. What was taking so long? He hoped Carlson wasn’t shafting him. He couldn’t rely on anyone for this to go as planned. Carlson could take this opportunity to take care of him. It was just as easy to dispose of two bodies as it was one. All he could do was hope.

  The trawler’s engine won the battle with the wind. Todd went to the side of the barge and the boat’s spotlight picked him out. He waved back to the boat, his hand tight on the .357.

  Carlson brought the boat alongside the barge with practiced ease. He climbed up the rope ladder just as easy.

  “How the hell did you get her here?”

  Todd used the truth, so he wouldn’t screw up the details. The story came out smooth without sounding false. Every convincing lie needed to sit upon a solid foundation of truth to work. “This is where we planned to kill you.”

  Carlson belted out a laugh. “That’s brilliant. I bet she never saw it coming.”

  “And neither did you,” Jessica said back. She emerged from the shadows pointing her automatic. “See what he brought to the party.”

  Todd jerked out the .357. He approached Carlson with caution. The man bristled with rage.

  “Hands up,” Todd ordered.

  “You sided with her after all I did for you?”

  Todd shrugged. “You didn’t offer that much and she did ask first. I’ve got to show some loyalty. Without loyalty, you aren’t anything.”

  “You piece of shit.”

  Todd relieved Carlson of a Glock. Oddly, it was the only weapon he found on him. Somehow, Todd expected to find a backup.

  Todd went behind Carlson and stamped down on the back of his knee. Carlson folded and sprawled face first on the wet, checkerplate decking. Todd stepped on the man’s back to keep him from moving. He aimed both guns at Carlson.

  “Do it,” she said.

  Todd didn’t look up. He didn’t want her seeing the fear.

  He looked at Carlson’s head twisting to see his and spew expletives. He looked up with contempt and hate, but Todd saw Mr. Ho’s face frightened face. When did it become so simple to extinguish a life? What had to be wrong or missing in a person that they could cross the line between person and killer? All Todd knew was that he didn’t have it. He aimed his .357 at Jessica. Hers had been on Carlson and she jerked her gun at Todd.

  “This is one marital dispute you’ll have to sort out between the two of you.”

  “You gutless bastard,” she hissed.

  “Yeah, well, at least I know what I am.”

  “Jessica, you were always a bad judge of character,” Carlson berated.

  “You don’t put a bullet in him,” Jessica warned. “I’ll put one in you.”

  “That might be a bit difficult.” Todd dropped the Glock on the ground. It landed just out of Carlson’s reach. “I’m going to take the boat now. You do whatever you need to do.”

  “You said you didn’t know how to pilot one,” Jessica said.

  “I’ll learn.”

  “Don’t think this lets you off the hook with me,” Carlson warned Todd.

  “I don’t, but it depends who’s the quicker on the draw.”

  Todd eased the pressure on Carlson’s back. He squirmed for the Glock. His fingers snagged on the trigger guard. Jessica shifted her aim to Carlson.

  “Leave it where it is, Jeff,” she warned.

  “Good luck,” Todd said and bolted for the rope ladder. The quick succession of shots and the order stopped him.

  “Put the gun down and turn around.”

  Todd put his .357 down and turned around. Jessica lay on her back with half her face lost under a mask of blood. Carlson lay face down with the Glock wrapped in his fist and his brains deposited on his back, the shot having gone through the top and out the back of his skull. Fisk stood between the two, casting a glance over his handiwork.

  He kicked the gun out of Jessica’s dead grasp while keeping his aim on Todd. “I’m glad you didn’t go through with it. I didn’t want to have to kill you too.”

  “How did you know we’d be here?”

  “Who did you think gave her the idea?” Fisk yanked the Glock from Carlson’s grasp and hurled it into the water.

  “You and she were in it together, but you killed her?”

  “There was a time when I would have killed Jeff for her, but those days are long since gone. I was just playing the game. These two were so focused on getting rid of each other that they never looked outside the goldfish bowl. Help me roll these two into the water.”

  “Are we cool?” Todd asked.

  “Yeah, we’re going to be after all this is out of the way. Now pick up your gun, take the bullets out and put them in a pocket, then put the gun away.”

  Todd did so and helped Fisk weight the Carlsons down and roll them into Puget Sound. Fisk claimed Jessica’s automatic and tossed that in after her.

  “I’ll give you a ride back,” Fisk said.

  “Why?” Todd asked back aboard the trawler.

  Fisk was at the controls. His gun was holstered and no longer a barrier to questions.

  “Munson.”

  “The guy in Florida?”

  “He wasn’t just run down crossing the street. Jessica and Jeff ordered that. The cops were closing in on him. The Carlsons couldn’t take a chance, but Munson wouldn’t have talked. It wasn’t his way. It was a shitty decision for a guy that everyone owed.” Fisk went quiet after that.

  “You used me.” Todd put no malice on the statement.

  “Yeah. Word had just gotten back to me that Munson’s accident was no accident and I knew then I would take care of Jessica and Jeff. I was looking for a way and when you fell into my lap, you were too good a tool not to use.”

  “But not a tool you want to keep around.”

  “No.” Fisk smiled. “You’ve got things to do and I can’t use a guy like you.”

  “Fair enough.”

  They moored the boat up and Fisk walked Todd to his Toyota.

  “The name you wanted,” Fisk said. “You want it?”

  Did he? It was a good question. This was all getting to be a little much just to get back at the small man. It was stretching him in directions he wasn’t used to or wanted to get used to. But the small man wasn’t going to go away until Todd stopped him or died trying. Dying. He hadn’t thought this would cost him his life, but it was the small man’s end game and Todd would have to keep playing until someone won.

  “Yeah.”

  “Leo Cochrane. That’s your small man.”

  Leo Cochrane. Todd ran his mind over the name. He didn’t know what to feel at this point. He felt only as if he had learned a fact like any other fact. Nothing would feel good until he had disposed of the small man.

  “I’ll throw in a bonus name
too. Jeremiah Black.”

  “Who’s that?”

  “Leo’s competition. You might find him a useful wedge.”

  “How will I get to them?”

  “That’s for you to work out.”

  Fisk put out a hand. Todd took it and shook. There was strength and friendship in Fisk’s tight grip and Todd returned it.

  “Don’t ever think about returning to Washington. You’re a loose end and you can dangle anywhere but here. Got me?”

  Todd nodded. “I’ll leave tonight.”

  “Good. Now piss off.”

  Fisk went to leave, but Todd stopped him.

  “One more favor?”

  “You’re pushing your luck.”

  “I know, but I’m repaying a favor to someone.”

  “Okay.”

  “There’s a dealership in Dallas where you send stolen cars with coke in them. The dealership is called Ruskin’s.”

  “What of it?”

  “Forget that it exists.”

  “Consider it forgotten.”

  “Thanks.”

  Fisk pulled out a cell phone and made a call for a pickup. Todd guessed it would be a busy night. Everyone had to be prepped on the new power structure before the start of the next business day.

  Todd gunned the Toyota’s engine. It struggled in the Seattle cold. He let the car warm up. Fisk came around to the window.

  “Where to now?” he asked.

  “Home.”

  PART FIVE: THE SMALL MAN

  The Bay Area felt different to Todd. Colors were vibrant. Even the air smelled different. Someone had played with the controls while he’d been away. Had the Bay Area changed or was it he who’d changed? Regardless of the changes, Todd felt good to be home.

  He didn’t hide. There was no need to take precautions as yet. Cochrane wouldn’t be expecting him to return and Todd had no allies in the Bay Area that he would know. He liked the idea of hiding in plain sight. It was a small victory he could celebrate.

  He drove by his old apartment in El Cerrito to find the place had been cleaned out. He’d expected as much. He wasn’t back to rake over old coals. This was fresh start time—as soon as Cochrane was taken care of. And there was no better time to start.