by Mark Pepper
After half a mile, Larry had stopped at a supermarket, parking on the fringe of the lot, and Joey had quickly spotted his perch, heading to the roof parking of a store on the adjacent street. By the time he had pulled into a spot overlooking the supermarket, his target had disappeared inside, and he had taken the opportunity to set himself up. He would let Larry get back in the Beetle, then clip him through the open window as he sat behind the wheel. Someone would eventually glance over and notice the Beetle’s gaudily redecorated interior, but by that time Joey would be long gone.
He lifted his eye from the scope and frowned hard. A couple of bottles of Jack Daniels and a six-pack – that was the kind of shopping Joey had expected to see Larry emerge with. But flowers?
Yet again, his resolve began to flake. Who were they destined for? He needed to know. If they were en route to Cedars-Sinai to be left at the front desk for Laura, his pulling that trigger in the next five seconds would put him on a par with Larry the night he wiped out the Armenians – choosing the bloodiest option not because he had exhausted all peaceful solutions, but because it suited him.
But what if it was a bluff; the flowers a decoy, a ploy to get him back into maternity? Larry didn’t look exactly jolly. In fact he looked positively pissed off, not at all like he was about to right wrongs.
Joey sighted again, laying the cross-hairs over Larry’s head, scoping him across the lot. He reached his Beetle and got in, oblivious to the lethal attention thirty meters away. Joey’s finger curled tighter on the trigger, but it would not pull through. Shit. Where was that killer instinct he had thought was second nature? Larry started the engine, reversed from his spot and nosed onto the street.
Too late to act, Joey laid his weapon down. It seemed, in the battle for his soul, Laura and the babe had brought his better nature to the fore, relegating second nature to second place. He had been wrong to suppose he could square his conscience with cold-blooded murder; not when there was another way out. If he wasn’t prepared to risk criminal proceedings by telling Gilchrist what he knew, he reckoned he had denied himself the right to enforce a vigilante justice on Larry.
Joey closed the side door and scrambled into the driver’s seat. From the direction in which Larry had gone, he could have been heading back home or through to join Santa Monica Boulevard all the way to Cedars Sinai. As Joey screeched down the ramp and out onto the street in belated pursuit, he prayed his reluctance to fire had been justified; that he would find the Beetle parked once again outside Larry’s apartment building.
If so, it was over for him. He would re-join his family at Cedars, and there he would remain night and day, standing guard, until Laura was well enough to leave. Then screw stubborn pride – his and hers – and adios LA.
The section of street was lined with apartment blocks. Virginia edged the Jeep into the curb a little way down the road. Dodge was sitting beside her, John and Hayley behind them, and John had noticed Virginia’s eyes go to the rear-view mirror rather too frequently to be simply a part of her road-craft.
‘He’s home,’ said a disappointed Hayley. ‘That’s his car, the silver Corvette.’
‘Least that saves us breaking the door down,’ Dodge said.
‘Dad, I’m not happy about this.’
‘Ginny, don’t worry.’
‘What if there’s trouble and the cops come? They’ll find you carrying, won’t they? What have you got, the Walther?’
Dodge nodded. ‘And the carry license to go with it, so what’s the problem?’
‘And what’s Quealy gonna say? He thought he could trust you.’
‘Ah, Quealy can kiss my ass. I’m more concerned that Hayley can trust me to take care of her.’
‘I don’t want to cause a problem,’ Hayley said.
Virginia twisted in her seat to face John, ignoring Hayley. ‘And I suppose you’re packing as well?’
‘This fellah’s killed six people already,’ John said by way of admission.
‘Don’t remind me. Hayley, no offense, but these two men mean the world to me. What exactly have you left behind that’s so important you want to risk their lives for it?’
‘Ginny!’ Dodge barked, glaring at her.
Hayley didn’t rise to the taunt. She appeared utterly tranquil, as though she simply didn’t have the energy.
‘I left my life behind. But you’re right; it’s not worth the trouble. I’ll go on my own. I’ll ask him for what’s mine: financial bits and pieces, things like that. A few clothes. He can keep the rest. I’ll be in and out in five minutes. He won’t hit me again looking like this. He’s more likely to start bawling.’
‘And will you go back to him if he does?’ John said.
‘No.’
‘Which won’t please him,’ Dodge said. ‘So it’s best he doesn’t get the chance to ask. Ginny, I’m sorry, we have to go with her. If you were in Hayley’s position you’d want someone to help out, wouldn’t you?’
‘Wait a minute,’ Hayley said. ‘My car’s gone.’
In the rear-view mirror, John saw his girlfriend roll her eyes before she spoke.
‘You mean he’s not in, after all?’
‘He doesn’t normally drive my car, but ... unless it’s been stolen, I guess he must have taken it.’
Virginia impatiently snatched her father’s cell phone off the dash.
‘Hayley, what’s your landline number?’ she asked, then tapped it in as Hayley dictated. Unanswered after fifteen seconds, she cut the connection. ‘No-one home. What car do you drive, Hayley?’
‘White Beetle convertible. Old shape.’
‘Right,’ Virginia said. ‘So I’ll know if he shows.’
‘You’ll sound the horn?’ John asked.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said, and beckoned him closer. He leaned between the seats to receive a kiss, as much a statement of ownership for Hayley’s sake as a sign of her love. ‘Do this quick,’ she said. ‘There’s been enough upset in this family.’
No one afforded him the slightest respect. Larry knew he had earned precious little of that commodity in uniform, but at least the fear he had instilled in people had looked like respect. Now, even his impressive body count served only as a source of amusement. The check-out girl at the store had riled him badly. Po-faced bitch, asking whether he didn’t require more flowers considering he had six graves to visit. He wanted Internal Affairs off his case. He wanted to get back to work. The effect of his police shield was out of all proportion to its size. It protected him, sanctioned his actions. The thug he really was could hide behind it like a school bully escaping punishment in the shadow of his headmaster father. When he hit someone, who could they complain to? The way things were now, he was the one fending off the blows, and he had lost the impunity of retaliation.
He purposely overcooked the turn onto his street, screeching the rear of the Beetle in a skid. Correcting it, he accelerated hard and quickly had to hit the brakes to swerve into the curb outside the apartment. He grabbed the flowers from the passenger seat and jumped out. He jogged round the pool, took the steps in twos, and abruptly halted at the top – his apartment door had been kicked in.
His peace offering was laid gently on the walkway and out came his gun. He felt much happier swapping flowers for a .45. It made him feel vaguely inhuman again. Hugging the wall, he slid along to just short of the doorway, thumbed the safety to off, and tried to calm his breathing. He listened. Two male voices. Not in the living room; too faint. Kitchen? More like the bedroom. Questions about what should be taken.
Unbelievable. On top of everything else, he was presently being burglarized. Well, they’d picked the wrong place on the wrong day. He was in no mood to make a citizen’s arrest and reckoned he’d never get a better opportunity to legitimately waste another couple of scumbags.
As he prepared to enter the apartment, he jumped as a familiar face popped out of the doorway, perhaps attracted by his tire-squealing arrival. Then he peered at the face and realized it wasn’t quite as he
remembered. His once-gorgeous wife was a mess.
Hayley froze, her eyes wide with horror – not the look you gave a person just prior to kissing and making up. It was the wrong thing to do but he grabbed her good arm. If he could have a minute to explain how he’d seen the light, she might give him another chance. Once the friends who were helping her pack entered the equation, they’d try and take her away. He made a soothing noise like she was a baby about to cry, but Hayley had glimpsed the drawn weapon and her shout was out. Still holding his wife, Larry moved quickly into the doorway, ready to assure her pals that she was in no danger. If they were actors they’d probably become hysterical and wet themselves when they saw a real-life firearm.
When the guns appeared from the bedroom, Larry’s first instinct was to put something between him and them. That something was Hayley. He yanked her to his chest and held her there, ducked his head behind hers and pointed the Tanfoglio towards the threat, which split in response. The white guy with the .357 stayed close to the bedroom door while the older black guy with the chunky Walther moved into the living room. Both were in combat stance. Larry flicked his eyes from one to the other. They didn’t behave much like actors; he’d seen veteran cops show more nerves than these two. These guys looked like pros, and it crossed his mind that Hayley had hired a couple of bodyguards, or even hitmen. His .45 wavered between the two.
‘I just want to talk to my wife,’ he said.
‘With a gun?’ said the white guy.
‘I thought you’d broken in.’
‘We did,’ said the black guy. ‘You wanna talk? Prove it. Lose the cannon.’
‘Oh, sure. Or maybe I should just blow my own brains out.’
‘Works for me,’ said the white guy.
Larry shot him a stare – a poor substitute for a slug from his .45 – and noticed something less than professional in his eyes: emotion. The white guy was pouring hatred towards him.
‘Who are you?’ Larry asked suspiciously. ‘What’s my wife to you?’
‘You wouldn’t understand,’ was the reply, loaded with meaning.
‘Honey, are you fucking this Limey?’ Larry said pleasantly in his wife’s ear. He withdrew his muzzle to rest against her temple.
‘You’d love it if I was, wouldn’t you? Means you wouldn’t feel so bad about nearly killing me. But no, Larry, I’m not. I came to get my belongings, and they came to make sure I was safe. They’re friends.’
‘I didn’t know you moved in such circles.’
‘Lose the gun, Larry,’ said the black guy. ‘You want to talk to your wife, okay. But not with the piece. And we’re staying right here.’
‘What are you? Marriage guidance? How do I know you won’t kill me?’
‘I won’t.’
‘And what about him?’ Larry nodded at the other guy. ‘He’d sure like to. I can see it in his eyes.’
‘You’re not going to shoot this man, are you?’ Dodge said to John.
Larry didn’t like the telling pause before John shook his head, so re-acquired him as a target.
‘How about you two disarm first?’ Larry asked, little expecting a positive response.
Both men refused by keeping perfectly still.
‘Then looks like we got us a real fucking problem,’ Larry said. ‘Either of you two see Reservoir Dogs?’
A nightmare was unfolding. The likelihood of one or more firearms being discharged was extremely high. John couldn’t believe how this situation had arisen. Hayley had only left the bedroom for a matter of seconds. He guessed she had gone to check on the screeching tires outside, which he’d also heard but had ignored because a warning honk from Virginia hadn’t followed. What was his girlfriend doing down there? Sleeping? In his mind’s eye, he saw himself attending his second funeral in a week, reading the inscription off the brass coffin-plate: Hayley Olsen. May she rest in peace, because she sure as hell didn’t live in any.
Idiot, not keeping his mouth shut. His words had only antagonized. Dodge was the one trying to calm things down, and John felt like an amateur alongside him, a rash youth. Now, they had a Mexican stand-off. Trust had gone out of the window. It would not be resolved without blood spilled.
They had to keep talking. Someone had to say something. John knew from experience that when diplomacy failed it wasn’t long before the bullets started to fly. He could see the panic building in Larry’s expression, a sort of gleeful terror. There was only so much craziness a person could keep inside.
If a voice didn’t break the silence soon, a gunshot would.
Suddenly, Larry made a move.
It wasn’t his business. Joey kept telling himself this as he monitored events up on the walkway – Larry grabbing his wife at the door, then the ensuing confrontation, only half of which he could see, but obviously with someone inside the apartment.
It wasn’t his business. He had a wife and child who needed him alive and well.
‘That’s crap,’ he said to himself. True, but crap; an excuse. If it wasn’t for his selfish silence, Larry would have been in custody right now and this wouldn’t be happening.
One last chance to act like a cop. With his shield on the belt of his jeans, he pulled the Browning from his shoulder rig, slid open the side door and jumped out. He ran across the street, but stopped short of entering the courtyard.
His presence was no longer required. The situation had been resolved without him.
The move Larry made was to collapse on the floor. John gawked as it happened, half-suspecting it was some bizarre bluff to lower their defenses. Neither he nor Dodge lowered their weapons. Not just yet.
Not until Virginia’s voice was heard on the walkway.
‘Don’t shoot,’ she said, and stepped into view, grinning and holding her stun-gun like she was in a TV commercial.
‘Why didn’t you honk the horn?’ Dodge said angrily.
Virginia lost her smile. ‘Because this way no one got killed, did they?’
‘Girl, we could have all been dead before you even got here.’
‘Thanks, Virginia,’ Hayley said, looking down at Larry who was groaning, totally immobilized. ‘But why didn’t I feel anything?’
John was thinking the same thing and wondered if Virginia had been secretly hoping Hayley would be shocked.
‘The current doesn’t pass, even if you’re touching the assailant. Listen, we should get out of here. He won’t be like that for ever. Is everything packed?’
‘I’ve got what I need,’ Hayley said, eyes still on Larry’s prostrate form. ‘Is he going to be all right?’
‘Providing he doesn’t have a pacemaker fitted,’ Virginia said.
John put his gun in his belt and waited for Dodge to holster his own, but the semi-automatic was wavering impatiently at his side as though Dodge felt it needed to lose the weight of at least one round. He was staring at Larry.
‘Dodge ...’ John said.
He snapped his head up, like waking from a trance, disappeared into the bedroom and returned with a holdall.
‘Take his gun, John. Hayley, any others in the apartment?’
‘Not to my knowledge.’ She looked at Larry again. ‘What exactly’s wrong with him?’
‘He’s a complete arsehole,’ John said, bending to pick up the .45.
‘No, I mean –’
Virginia interrupted to explain as they all cleared out of the apartment.
‘The shock interrupts the neuro-muscular system. The pulse frequency tells the muscles to work very hard very fast, which instantly turns the blood sugar to lactic acid so the muscles have no energy and fail. He’ll come round feeling like he’s fallen out of a third story window onto the sidewalk. Here.’ She offered Hayley the stun-gun. ‘A gift. Your need is greater than mine.’
Hayley shook her head. They reached the Jeep and climbed in. Virginia started the engine, then turned in the driver’s seat and again extended the stun-gun towards Hayley.
‘I don’t want it,’ Hayley said. ‘Thank you.’
‘Ginny, leave her alone.’
‘Dad, we can’t protect her for ever.’
‘I can,’ Dodge said.
‘Well, you didn’t make a very good start, did you?’
‘If you’d hit the frigging horn like you said you would –’
‘You’d have shot the guy and wound up in jail.’
‘And Hayley would have been safe!’
Virginia was furious with his response. ‘And what about me, Dad? She is not your daughter! I am!’
The conversation curtailed, Virginia squealed the Jeep out from the curb. No one said another word the entire journey back to Beverly Glen.
After jotting down the Jeep’s license plate, Joey decided not to adopt yet another change of plan. Joining his family was still his best bet. Further surveillance would tell him nothing he didn’t already know: that Larry would come round in the foulest mood imaginable. He had seen the stun-gun in the woman’s hand as they returned to their vehicle. There was no doubt Larry deserved a zap, and there had been considerable pleasure in watching it happen, but it did Joey’s peace of mind no favors whatsoever.
In fact, he feared it might prove akin to the final jolt that brought Frankenstein’s monster to life.
‘John, let her go.’
‘Virginia!’ John shouted again, watching her storm off along Angelo Drive. He was still coming down from his adrenaline high and found it very easy to yell.
Dodge placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘She’ll be okay, John. I know my daughter. She just needs some time alone.’
‘But where’s she going?’
‘Just to the end of the street. There’s a view over the city. She goes there to think sometimes. Don’t worry.’
‘This is my fault,’ Hayley said. ‘You’re falling out because of me. I’ll call a cab and go stay with my agent.’
‘No, you won’t,’ Dodge said. ‘You’re not to blame for what happened back there. We should have been more careful, we slipped up. But you’re safe now and there’s no reason to go changing that.’ He removed the keys from the ignition where Virginia had left them dangling, and locked up.
