Full Contact

by Robert J. Randisi

  “Give me the tape, Jacoby.”

  “I didn’t bring it with me.”

  “You told my man—”

  “I told him your only chance of seeing it was to agree to see me. That didn’t mean I would bring it along.”

  “Get it, then.”

  “No.”

  His eyes went cold then, and he stared at me.

  “You’re a dead man, Jacoby.”

  “I thought that wasn’t your style—”

  “I either want that tape or your head,” he said, and I had the sudden feeling that at that point he wasn’t entirely rational.

  “All right,” I said, and reached for Turkey Neck’s gun. My hand closed over the butt and as I eased it out of my belt

  Piper moved faster than I’d ever seen anyone move before. He executed a perfect roundhouse kick, which snapped the gun from my hand, then threw a reverse kick that landed on the left side of my head.

  I saw stars and hit the floor, but instinct kept me rolling just in case he wanted to follow up. I staggered to one knee, keeping my balance with one hand on the floor, and looked at him.

  He was standing very still, studying me.

  “Stand up,” he said.

  “I don’t understand,” I said to him, hoping that by talking to him I could give myself the chance to recover my senses completely. “Why are you worried about that tape? If you gave it to Cross, it can’t be something you’re especially ashamed of.”

  “I’m not ashamed of anything I’ve ever done, Jacoby, but I want that tape.”

  “Wait a second,” I said, hauling myself to my feet. “It’s Lee, isn’t it? It’s her you’re thinking about.”

  “I never would have let Cross show that tape to anyone, but neither he or that Chinaman knew that. I only used it to put them at each other’s throats.”

  “And now you want the tape back for sentimental reasons?”

  “I want to destroy it.”

  “You really do have feelings for her, don’t you?”

  A muscle began to twitch in his cheek and he said, “Just give me the tape, Jacoby.”

  “I’m not going to do that, Piper, but—”

  He came at me then and I barely avoided the kick he threw at my head. It might have decapitated me, judging from the force with which it landed on my shoulder. I went flying over an armchair into a coffee table, which collapsed beneath me, and he came after me.

  “Let me explain—” I started to say, but he wasn’t having any.

  He rushed me and I scrambled to my feet in time to keep from being stomped. I backed across the room, trying to look for the gun while keeping my eyes on him, as well.

  I wanted to explain myself to him, the proposition I was going to offer, but he was past the talking stage. If I couldn’t put him out of commission he was sure as hell going to beat me to death, the same way Cross had been killed.

  He moved in on me and threw three quick punches. Surprising both of us, I was able to block the first two, but the third one got through and landed square in the center of my chest. For a moment I thought my heart had stopped, but as he launched another punch I ducked underneath it and hooked one to his belly. He grunted and I moved away from him, trying to get to the center of the room where I’d have more space.

  I was trying to control my breathing, trying to get myself into the state of mind I’d always maintained in the ring. Piper was obviously skilled in karate, but I had been a professional fighter. Karate or no, I felt that my pro background, coupled with my own lesser karate skills, should have given me the edge.

  That’s all I want, I thought, just a small edge.

  Piper turned to face me and recognized the fact that I had stopped running. He approached me more slowly now, and I tried to keep loose, keep moving, trying to decide how best to combine my skills.

  He threw a kick, but he’d telegraphed it and I decided to try the same thing I’d used on Fallon. I ducked beneath the lethal kick and, while in the crouch, swept my left leg around to cut him off at the knees and dump him. To my surprise, it worked, but even on his butt he was dangerous. As I moved in he lashed out, snapping a kick at my belly. I was quick enough to swivel and take it on the hip, but God, did it hurt!

  I staggered backward, feeling the pain shoot through my left leg. He got back to his feet and started to close in on me again slowly. I decided that the old football adage about the best defense being a good offense was the only way to go, and my decision surprised him.

  As he continued to advance on me slowly I charged him, and the surprise showed on his face. I threw a few punches the way I’d been taught, but he successfully picked them all off with his forearms, and I finally decided to fall back on the old reliable. I threw a boxer’s right cross that he was totally unprepared for, and the pain in my fist was sweet as it connected with the left side of his jaw. He took several off-balance steps, like a puppet whose strings have been cut, and then went down on his side.

  No killer instinct, I’d been told, recently as well as during my boxing days. When you hurt your man, Benny used to say, go after him, finish him!

  Piper was on his side only for a moment, and then he started to get up, but I charged him and launched a kick that caught him in the ribs. He cried out in pain and rolled with the kick to try to avoid further damage. I was about to go after him when I saw the gun on the floor.

  Screw it, I thought, and picked it up. I had nothing to prove by continuing to try to take him hand to hand.

  I pointed the gun at him, cocked the hammer, and said, “Move, asshole, and you’re dead!”

  He was in the process of getting up, and stopped with one hand still on the floor.

  “Take it easy,” he said, easing himself down so that he was sitting on the floor. He touched his jaw and said, “Man, you can hit.”

  “I used to do it for a living.”

  “Yeah,” he said, thoughtfully, “that’s right, isn’t it?”

  “You dumb sonofabitch, if you weren’t so eager to beat me to death the way you did Cross—”

  “Whoa, pal, hold on!” he said. “I told you the truth. I didn’t kill Cross. I just want that tape.”

  “I’m not going to give it to you—”

  “I’ll come after it—”

  “Listen for a change, dammit!” I snapped angrily, and he shut up. “I’m not giving it to you, I’m giving it to Knock Wood Lee.”

  Piper frowned.

  “What do you think he’ll do with it?” I asked.

  “He’ll probably destroy it.”

  “Isn’t that what you want?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, if that’s really true, then we’ve got no argument, have we?”

  He didn’t answer right away, so to bring my point across I eased the hammer down on the gun.

  “All right,” he said, finally.

  “You know, Piper, you annoy the shit out of me,” I said, dropping my hand to my side so that the gun no longer pointed at him. “I believe you.”

  “Thanks. Can I get up now?”

  I waved, indicating that he could.

  “You believe I didn’t kill Cross?”

  I nodded and said, “But I don’t think Knock Wood Lee did, either.”

  “You better talk to him about that, Jacoby.”

  “I intend to.”

  In fact, before meeting Piper’s car I had called Heck Delgado and arranged to see Wood at the Tombs after my meeting with Piper.

  “What happened to Brown?” I asked.

  “The dumb bastard burned himself up,” Piper said. “My man was supposed to handle the incendiary, but Brown wanted to do it. Next thing my guy knew, the thing blew with Brown still inside.”

  “So you haven’t killed anyone?”

  “I told you—”

  “And you don’t know who killed the Saberhagen girl?”

  “I never even met her. Cross and Brown handled the girls.”

  “Are there any films left?”

  “None, e
xcept the ones in Cross’s apartment. They were shit, anyway. I’m upgrading my operation.”

  “That’s what you get for dealing with amateurs.”

  He shrugged and said, “Cross knew the drill, but I’ve been in town long enough to get the hang of it now. My future products will be much better.”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Want a drink?”

  “No thanks.”

  He walked to the bar and poured himself one, then surveyed the wreckage of his apartment and said, “Jesus, what a mess.”

  “I leave you to clean it up,” I said, heading for the door. “Oh, one more thing.”

  “What?”

  I tossed him the .38 and he caught it one-handed, purely by reflex.

  “Give that back to Turkey Neck. Tell him he’s out one flashlight, though.”

  “Fuck him.”

  “Tell me something, Piper.”

  “What now?”

  “Tell me about Lee. Am I really supposed to believe that you wouldn’t have allowed anyone to see the tape because you love her?”

  He put the gun down, picked up his drink, and stared at me.

  “Yes” he said finally, after a lot of deliberation. “I loved her when we were kids in Brooklyn, Jacoby, and I love her now. That’s why I tried to get her back. Okay?”

  Remembering that he was the one who turned her out when they were kids, I shook my head. “Man, you’ve got a piss-poor way of showing it.”

  Thirty-Seven

  “All right,” Knock Wood Lee said.

  “All right what?” Heck asked.

  “I kicked his ass pretty good, I admit that, but he was alive when I left the apartment.”

  “The first time, you mean,” I said.

  Wood looked at me and said, “When I went back I didn’t go into the bedroom right away. I assumed he was okay. I started looking for the tape.”

  “You didn’t look good enough.”

  “I guess not. I was still pretty wound up, you know? I hadn’t lost my temper like that . . . hell, I don’t think I ever lost my temper like that before, but when he talked about—” he stopped short of mentioning Lee’s name and looked at Heck. He didn’t know that I had told Heck everything when I reached his office. I’d gone there straight from Piper’s, and we went right to the Tombs to face Wood.

  “All right, then what happened?” I asked.

  “I checked the tapes on the shelves, but I didn’t have time to view them. I knew it was hopeless and I went back into the bedroom to try and force him to tell me where it was.”

  “And he was dead?”

  “I don’t know. I was about to bend over him when the cops showed up. I didn’t know he was dead until they said so.”

  “So you killed him,” Heck said.

  “I hurt him pretty bad, but I don’t think I killed him.”

  “You’re saying that between the time you left and the time you went back—how long was that?”

  “Fifteen, twenty minutes.”

  “You’re saying that in that time somebody else went up there and killed him?”

  “I don’t know,” Wood said, “all I’m saying is that I really don’t think that I killed him.”

  Heck looked at me and I shrugged.

  “You still believe Piper?” Heck asked.

  “I think Piper saw what he saw and really thinks that Wood killed Cross. He doesn’t know, though.”

  “But if he were to testify at the trial, that would clinch it,” Heck said.

  “I’m going to buy this one, aren’t I?” Wood asked.

  “I wish you had leveled with us before this, Wood,” Heck said, shaking his head.

  “I’m sorry, but I didn’t want anyone to know about the tape, that’s why I said I was looking for my money.”

  “Chivalrous,” Heck said, “but this is one time when chivalry would have been better off dead.”

  Heck picked up his briefcase and prepared to leave.

  “Mr. Delgado,” Wood said, “I’d understand if you withdrew from the case.”

  “We’ll talk again,” Heck said, and knocked on the door for the guard.

  “Jack?”

  “Yeah, Wood?”

  “The tape—”

  “I’ve got the tape, Wood.”

  He looked relieved.

  “Wood, did Cross show you the tape?”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “If he had I would have taken it away from him.”

  “Why’d you believe him, then?”

  “Lee told me about it a long time ago, so I knew it existed, and if he knew about it, he must have had it, or at least seen it. I couldn’t take the chance . . .”

  “Lee doesn’t know about this, does she?”

  “No, and I don’t want her to.”

  “She won’t hear it from me.”

  “Thanks, Jack. Listen, if I don’t get out—”

  “Don’t worry,” I said, “it’s as good as destroyed. I’ll melt it down and bring you the remains.”

  “Thanks,” he said again.

  “Jack?” Heck called from the door.

  “See you, buddy,” I said, and followed Heck out.

  In a cab Heck said, “What do you think?”

  “I believe him.”

  “I believe him, too,” he said. “I believe that he doesn’t think he killed Cross, but Jack, he’s not a doctor. The injuries he inflicted on that man could have killed him.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “I could go to the D.A. with the story and plea to manslaughter—”

  “You’ll have to talk to Wood about that.”

  “Why don’t you talk to Piper again? As far as I can see, he’s our only witness. If Wood is right, then Piper had to have seen something else.”

  “I’ll try,” I said. Having memorized the number on the phone in the apartment on Seventy-second Street, I hoped that Piper’s lease had been the real thing, and I hoped he’d still be there.

  I called him from my office, and was relieved to find that he was still there.

  “I’m still cleaning up,” he said. “Did you talk to the Chinaman?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “Piper, I need a favor.”

  “Is that so?”

  “I want to know everything you saw that night.”

  There was a long silence, and then he said, “If I tell you that, Jacoby, I might be helping Knock Wood Lee.”

  “That’s true,” I said, “unless you want to look at it as helping Lee.”

  “You’re a sonofabitch, did you know that?”

  “Sure.”

  “All right, yeah, I did see someone else.”

  “When?”

  “In between the time Knock Wood Lee left and came back.”

  “Piper, if Wood didn’t kill Cross, then you might have seen the killer.”

  “Jacoby, there are a lot of apartments in that building this man could have gone to.”

  “I know that,” I said, impatiently. “Who was it, Piper? Who did you see?”

  “How the hell should I know? I saw a man.”

  Disappointed I asked. “You didn’t know him?”

  “He was a perfect stranger to me.”

  “How long was he in the building?”

  “He left before the Chinaman came back,” Piper said, “and he left in a hurry.”

  “Shit,” I said. “Is that all you can tell me?”

  “That’s it . . . except there was something strange that I remember.”

  “What?”

  “Well, the guy was a big man, but as he was putting his gloves on I noticed something.”

  “What, for Christ’s sake?”

  “For a big man, he had these real small hands, you know? Weird.”

  Yeah, I knew.

  Weird.

  “And I was close enough to notice that he was missing a finger,” he added.

  “The thumb,” I said, “on the left hand.”

  “How did you know?�
��

  I just knew.

  Thirty-Eight

  I gave the Detroit cab driver the address of Robert Saberhagen’s building, and hoped I’d find him in.

  I hadn’t called ahead for an appointment.

  Saberhagen agreed to see me right away after his secretary announced me, and I followed her to his office. She was the kind of woman a wife would hire to be her husband’s secretary.

  “Mr. Jacoby,” he said, standing behind his desk. “I sent you a check—”

  “That’s not why I’m here, Mr. Saberhagen,” I said, even though I hadn’t yet received it.

  “You haven’t checked into a hotel,” he said, looking at my bag.

  “I don’t expect to be in town that long, sir.”

  “Please, sit down. Can I offer you refreshments?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “All right, then,” he said, seating himself behind his desk, “perhaps you’d like to tell me why you’re here.”

  “It’s about your daughter’s killer.”

  “You know who he is?”

  “Not really,” I said, “but I think you do.”

  He frowned and said, “I don’t understand.”

  “I think you do, sir. There is a witness who saw you go into Alan Cross’s building that night. He can identify you, and will in a lineup, if it becomes necessary.”

  “If that’s true,” he said, “why are you here, and not the police?”

  “I haven’t told the police yet, Mr. Saberhagen,” I said, and boy, was I going to be in hot water for that one. Hocus would hit the ceiling when he heard that I acted on Piper’s information without giving it to him, but what would he have done with it? Piper saw a man, so what? Who was the man, and who was to say he went to Cross’s apartment?

  “I came here without conferring with them, to give you the opportunity to come back with me.”

  He studied me for a few seconds and then said, “Why would I want to do that?”

  “Because I don’t think you’re a murderer, sir. That is, I don’t think you could kill someone and then live with it.”

  He folded his hands on the desk top and regarded them solemnly, blinking his eyes rapidly.

  “I also don’t think you were as unaffected by your daughter’s death as you would have people think.”