Searching for Harpies

by Charlie Vogel

  She picked up the phone from the counter and pushed the re-dial button. After a moment she said, “Hello, Bishop Dergan. Your secretary said you were busy, so I waited three days for you to call back. This is important, you know. I see.” Her gaze flicked up to mine. “You’re talking with Sgt. Slominski? Now? Right there in your office? That’s good. Will he agree to everything? No-no Bob will wire us with the electronic shit. Excuse my French, sir. We don’t want the police involved in anything, except having the sergeant listening on the other end.” A smile erased the worry in her face. “Okay, we’ll get started right now.”

  I set my beer bottle on the table. “So, Mrs. James Bond, do you have everything you need in your bag?”

  “Yeah. I’ll change here instead of downtown. You checked the batteries?”

  “Your choke collar mike is working great. I bought new earplugs for you as well as for Slominski and myself. I even placed a new tape in the mini-recorder. Did you talk to Harriet?”

  Lori chewed her lower lip. “Bob, she may not help us. Her mind . . . well, it’s just about gone.”

  “Did Fox call back?”

  “Fuck! I’ve been so damn busy; I forgot to tell you. Worm tailed a Gas and Fill manager to Hacker’s Tobacco Discount. The man carried out a large package. Fox thinks that’s the pickup place.”

  My mind raced over the details. “Let’s make a slight change. We’ll go to Hacker’s and make the buy.”

  Lori’s eyebrows arched up. “That’s exactly what Fox wanted. I didn’t think you’d agree to such a big risk. The guy at the tobacco shop has a bad-ass gun.”

  “Really?’

  She narrowed her eyes as if using X-ray vision to see my determination. Or lack of it. “Yeah, Worm noticed it. It’s a sawed-off, double-barrel shotgun.”

  My cheeks puffed as I blew out a breath then I pushed my shoulders back. “We’ll try to avoid pissing him off, then. If we can take out this place, it would immediately cut off Harpies’ supply. We’d be breathing down her neck. She can’t take much more without acting herself.”

  Lori eyed the clothes on the table then peeled off her chopped tank top and bra. I took another swallow of beer, closing my eyes as she squirmed into a push-up bra and see-through silk blouse.

  She wiggled out of her cut-offs then unzipped the leopard skirt. As I stared at her black thong, I wondered if Harry would have had a Catholic prayer for my soul.

  “We were only twenty feet from her at the train yards.” Lori calmly offered.

  “What? Who told you that?”

  “Worm talked to some of his snitches. A skinny woman stood outside a dark Lincoln and watched the coke go up in flames.”

  As Lori bent to step into the skirt I almost swallowed my tongue. “Ah, did they say if she saw us?”

  “She was on the north access road. We were in the ditch weeds, but she could’ve seen us. Except she was watching that fucking big fire.”

  “Damn it, Lori, why didn’t you tell me before?”

  “Don’t give me any of your shit.” She dropped into a chair to fasten the straps of her fuck-me heels. “I talked to Fox just before I came here. You were ordering me around. ‘Pack this shit, Count that money. Call this fucking person. No, someone else.’ Can’t you chill out and get off my back?”

  I pressed my palms to the table and studied my fingers. For a second I saw smears of blood on them. I pinched my eyes hard. When they opened, my clean hands rested there. Lori cleared her throat so I looked up at her.

  “We were getting closer, you and me. Since Harry died, when we’re not out getting into trouble, you send me home. No goddamn hot tub. Nothing. ”

  “Lori, I—”

  “Let me finish,” she interrupted. “As soon as Tommy is cleared and Harpies is in jail, I think . . . Fuck!” She clenched her hands together on the table so hard her knuckles turned white. “It’s time we move on. Well, I’m moving on . . . or out. Away. It’s time for me to get on with whatever I can make of my life.” She stared hard at me, her eyes widening, anger flashing. “I want a husband, a family and something better than I got here, better than what you will . . . or won’t give me. Life is too fucking short.”

  “Oh, Lori.” I fought the lump rising in my throat. “You really fucked up,” Harry whispered. “I-I’m sorry. I feel like I’m out in that goddamn lake and treading water. I’m trying to swim, to get to you. Every painting I do . . . of you, I’m closer.”

  “To what? To letting go of Eileen or closer to even thinking we could make it happen?”

  I lifted my hands in frustration.

  “I’ve given you two goddamn years to fall in love. No, Bob.” She stood, jerked her purse handles onto her shoulder and put on her cold hooker expression. “The quicker we finish up with Harpies, the faster I can leave. I’m done playing house with you.”

  * * *

  Midway through the dip in the street, the muffler scrapped the pavement. A shiver raced up my back. Thank God it’s not my Ferrari. Earlier that day I had found the 1971 Oldsmobile Ninety-Eight molding away in back of the lot of the rental agency. The service man refused to take a deposit, telling me to just bring it back if it was still running. The memory of that jinxed it as it lost power on the incline. I shifted into a lower gear,

  I glanced at my stoic passenger. “You’ve been sucking on a lot of lollipops. Nervous?”

  Lori pulled yet another one from between her lips. “It keeps me from smoking. Turn at the next block. Hacker’s is right around the corner.”

  “You sure this place belongs to Harpies?”

  “That’s what Fox said. There’s the white van. Bishop Dergan and Sergeant Slominski are already here. Okay, stop at the crosswalk, I’ll get out.”

  “You’ve got the cash?”

  She shot me a “Duh” look. “I’ll see you later. Kissie, kissie.”

  Stepping onto the curb, she tugged the hem of the leopard skirt , adjusted the blonde wig and touched her hand to the choker. A loud thumping pounded into my ear piece as she tapped the sapphire pendant a little harder. I resisted a grimace.

  “It works,” I mumbled. As I pulled away from the curb her hand pressed against the plug I knew was in her left ear. “Give me a test,” I said into my mic.

  “Working fine. How about Holy Man? Can you hear me?”

  Another deeper voice answered. “Yes, we’re here. I’m to tell you we have your friend Roy hooked up.”

  I grinned. “Roy?”

  “Wouldn’t miss this, Bob,” he drawled.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  “Not officially back on department pay yet. I know this is your show, but would you mind if I came in closer on foot?”

  “Go ahead. Maybe you can cover Lori. Did Slominski fill you in on what’s going down?”

  “Oh, yeah. Sweet. You sure no one will recognize your girl?”

  “No way, Roy Honey,” Lori answered for herself.

  “She has two hours of theater make-up on her face. I hardly recognize her.”

  “And you’ve been closer than me,” he quipped.

  Lori thumped her pendant hard enough to make my ears ring.

  Silence settled the dust but my own tension mounted. “I’m parking at the front door. Lori, where you at?

  “On time, a block away, Fr. Dumb Ass.”

  “Who?” the bishop’s voice asked. A moment later he said “Oh.”

  “Lori passed us two minutes ago,” Roy told me. “I’m leaving the van. I’ll be right behind her.”

  Pulling the brim of my baseball cap down, I stepped onto the parking lot’s crumbling asphalt then slammed the car door. Something clinked and the half-lowered window fell all the way down. Steam drifted up from under the Oldsmobile’s hood. I acted like I was looking the car over while trying to get a better angle to see into the building. Out-of-date posters of city events had been taped at odd angles on the inside of windows and most of the glass door. I couldn’t see inside.

  I tucked in my Nine Inch Nails tee shi
rt, tightened my cowboy belt and pulled up the discount store blue jeans. Anyone with a practiced eye wouldn’t miss the bulge of Fox’s Beretta Cougar to the right of the buckle. Please let it stay there. I pulled out the hem the shirt to conceal it. Because of the added weight of the miniature mic, the classic Three Stooges Curly button pinned to the left of the tee’s collar pulled a little on the fabric. It better not tear my favorite shirt or that’ll be on Harpies head, too. Harry, paintings, tee shirt. I’ll fry her ass.

  I cleared my throat and barely whispered, “Testing.”

  Roy’s voice came loud and clear into my ear piece. “Working fine. I’m about a half block behind Lori. She either gave me a signal to shut up or the bird.”

  I chuckled. “Going in. See you in a few.” My fingers traced the earplug wire down to the fake MP3 player/mini-recorder clipped to my belt.

  Inside the door, I hesitated to let my eyes adjust to the dimness. A tall, thick-bodied, dark haired man stood behind a protective, wire cage built around the counter. He almost looks like he’s jailed already or a caged animal. Probably thinks he’s the animal.

  The heavy spiciness of mixed tobacco filled my nose as I walked the short aisle of smoking paraphernalia. In the corner, a lighted cooler displayed bottled juices. That along with the two widely spaced, low-watt fixtures dangling overhead and the small amount of sunshine making it around the window and door papering provided the only light in the place.

  I headed to the cooler and studied the labels on the bottles. The front door opened but I didn’t turn. Lori’s fuck-me heels clicked on the wooden flooring.

  Almost like surround sound, I heard her through my left ear piece and behind my right shoulder. “Bart said I could come here. His place burnt down and I need candy.”

  “You know the rules. Go find another Gas and Fill.”

  “None close to my territory after that fire and the other one. Fox doesn’t want me that far from my johns.” She shifted to whining. “I can’t pay him, you suppliers and a cab, too.”

  Just as I palmed a pint of Tropic Passion juice, Lori gave him the private phone number to Godfrey’s office to verify he could supply her.

  “Who in hell are you?” the man growled loudly.

  “Don’t have a stroke, mister.” Her voice sounded even more pathetic. “I’m just an innocent whore working the street . . . needing nose candy. Really bad, okay? When you call Peg, tell her one of her baby girls says ‘Hi’ and ask how her go-go dancing’s been doing.”

  On my way to the counter, I looked over cigar holders, ashtrays and smoking pipes. Holding up one of the pipes for closer inspection, I watched the big guy hold a cell phone to his ear while staring at Lori like a mean wolf about to pounce.

  “Peg? I got a whore here. She said Bart sent her for a buy. She said something about a baby girl saying ‘hi’ and go-go-dancing. Gotcha. I’ll take care of it.” When he ended the call he glanced at me standing just behind Lori. “You need something?”

  The cold light in his eyes had my hand easing the Beretta from my belt. I shrugged. “Hey, I can wait until you’re finished with her.”

  He glared at her. “Consider her finished.” Lori stiffened but didn’t move aside. “Now, what can I get you?”

  I held up the bottle with my left hand. “I just wanted some passion, but I’ve got plenty of time. I can wait.”

  The man pushed his face toward the cage opening, showing Lori his stained and clamped teeth. “Look bitch; get out of this customer’s way. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Lori steadied herself on the counter edge and leaned toward him to put on a good act of desperate weakness. “Mister,” she said in a low, tear-clogged voice, “I was here first. I got a helluva lot more money than he does. I want my shit and I want it now.”

  He shook his head in disgust. “Lady, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Now, step aside.”

  “What-what did Peg say, eh?”

  Ignoring her, he calmly looked at me. “Mister, that will be two bucks.”

  Lori didn’t move.

  I acted like I was digging in a jeans pocket then had to talk over her shoulder. “I only got, ah, one dollar.”

  He shifted and proved Worm was right about the double-barreled sawed-off shotgun.

  I widened my eyes. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. You put the gun down and I’ll put the juice back.” I said that for Roy and the listening Slominski.

  “This isn’t for you. The juice is free. Just take it and leave.” He snapped the gun down at Lori and my heart rate jumped. “I have orders to talk to this bitch.”

  My mouth dry, I touched the drawn Beretta to Lori’s back. When she sidestepped, I squeezed the trigger. The big man flinched as blood spurted from his right upper chest. He fell back, the shotgun hitting the floor and clattering like a can of bolts.

  Lori wasted no time. She reached through the opened area of the wire mash twisting the keys from the register. “That’ll teach, you, motherfucker, for not pumping a shell into the chamber.” She walked to the end of the counter to unlock the cage entry. The wire door creaked on its hinges. I followed Lori, my gun still ready. On the shadowy floor, the bleeding man slapped his palm on the butt of the shotgun. Lori stomped a spiked heel on his wrist. I jerked the barrel and threw it aside. He grimaced but started to reach his right hand for Lori’s ankle.

  “Big guy, I wouldn’t do that. She killed one of Harpies men with just a foot. In an elevator.” He stilled. “Yeah, crushed his windpipe and she wasn’t wearing high heels then.”

  He went limp but then shuddered and tried to gasp for air. Lori dropped to her knees and ripped his shirt open. Blood pumped from the gaping wound onto his hairy chest.

  “Shit, I think you got his lung, Bob,” Cringing in distaste, she slapped a palm over the wound. Her expression turned vicious as she glared at the suffering man. “You’ve been made, you son-of-a-bitch. You ain’t getting away with anymore. There’s a shitload of coke here, right?” When he only stared back, she pushed down on the wound and he jerked a nod. “Well, we’re taking possession. And Harpies will have to come herself to deal with us.”

  The guy’s chest heaved under Lori’s hand as he gasped for air. Red-tinged froth bubbled from his very pale lips.

  Lori glanced up at me. “Tear the wrapping off one of those packs of cigarettes.” She waved to the wall case above us. As I did that, she squinted to scan under the counter. “Behind you. Roll of duct tape. Tear off four six-inch pieces.”

  She smoothed the pack’s cellophane where her hand had been then sealed it in place with the tape I handed her. Within moments the guy was taking steady breaths with no more bubbling at his lips.

  “Wow, where’d you learn that?” I asked.

  “Saw the squad guys do it to a guy the cops had shot. They said the bleeding goes on, but at least he would be breathing long enough to get to a hospital.”

  “Did-Did you call a fucking squad for me?”

  Lori sat back on her heels to look at him with a half-smile and shake her head.

  “Pl-please.”

  “What’s it worth to you, asshole?”

  He closed his eyes a moment then looked from Lori to me. “When you-you said Bart sent you, I knew you were lying. Harpies took care of him.”

  Lori shrugged. “Who cares?”

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  I folded my arms and looked down on him. “Harpies. She’s been fucking with this city long enough. And you will either die here or have an extended vacation in the penn for all the shit you’ve helped with.”

  His expression turned mulish and he went back to glaring.

  I handed Lori a roll of paper towels I’d seen. She wiped her hands clean, her eyes never leaving his face.

  “Bob, can you find me some hot sauce, maybe in the office? I want to close up that wound, maybe kill some germs with the heat.”

  His eyes snapped from her to me and back.

  “Check your purse. You have a shaker full of Mexican peppers
for your pizza. Would that work?”

  “I-I ain’t telling you shit. You ain’t cops.”

  “No, but I am.” Roy stood with one shoulder propped against the cage entrance.

  “You gotta read me my rights, first.”

  Roy shrugged. “As many times as you’ve heard them over the years, Benny? Or maybe we can just leave you there and start a slow search of the place.”

  “You-You call a squad and I’ll talk.”

  “Is that before or after Harpies gets here?” Lori asked.

  Benny shifted and groaned. “Fuck, I’m hurtin’”

  “Come on, kids,” Roy beckoned to us.

  “No, wait.” Benny looked at Lori. “She’ll be here pretty soon. What you had me say? She knows who you are.”

  “Fucking-A. I know who she is, too. I just want Roy here—and a couple other witnesses—to meet her.”

  “Where’s her stash?” Roy asked.

  “Trap door. You’re standing on it. Basement’s full”

  Roy’s eyebrows shot up then an ear to ear grin parted his beard. “Nice.”

  “Roy,” Slominski’s voice came over our ear pieces, “we’ve got enough recorded to take this to the District Attorney. Will our songbird make it?”

  “He’s on the floor behind the counter, resting. I’ve seen worse. He won’t die over the next hour. I don’t want to risk a squad spooking Harpies.”

  Lori rose to her feet. She took a step closer to me and whispered “Sorry you had to put that hole in the bastard. You okay?”

  “I wasn’t going to let him shoot you.”

  “I figured. Appreciated.”

  I wanted to put my arms around her, but took a step back. Behind her, Roy shook his head in disgust. As if he couldn’t stand looking at me any longer, he knelt to run his fingers over the floor boards until he found a groove. One tug and a 4 x 4 section lifted. He let it settle back and flashed a grin at us like a little boy on Christmas morning.

  “Ah, I’ll shop and watch for Harpies.” I waved a hand toward the front of the store.

  Slominski clearing his throat vibrated the ear pieces. “I said we’ve got enough evidence. Uniforms are on the way to take her into custody when she arrives. I’ll call for a squad for your guy when that happens. I want you civilians out of there now.”