“Huh? I didn’t search her car,” I said.
“Right. I was hoping I misunderstood and you just forgot to tell me. Shit, did I really teach you that badly?”
“I just didn’t think of it.”
“People keep all kinds of crap in their cars. I’m stocking a shotgun, three revolvers, two pistols and one submachine gun. A cooler with Corona, an iPad—”
“I get the picture,” I told him. “I’m not sure what car she was driving or where it is though. Maybe she drove it to the club?”
“Check her DMV records. I know you’ve got contacts there. We’ll visit her place, see if the car is over there first.”
“Sounds like a plan. Sometimes I forget how good you are stuff like this.”
“Yeah, I’m not just a badass assassin. I’ve been tracking down a lot of people that owed your dad money or were on the run from him for other reasons. I’m a pretty fucking good investigator myself if there’s a need.”
TWELVE
A quick phone call to my DMV contact got me Carol’s vehicle info. We drove over to Carol’s place. Her car, a Mercedes, was in plain sight, parked in front of her house. I felt like an idiot.
“Well, well. There it is,” Kane said.
“Yeah, yeah…” I left the car and walked over to the Mercedes. Kane followed.
“So, how fast can you get it open?”
“Want to race me?” I asked him.
He smiled. “Hell yeah.” He produced a flat piece of metal from his duster and handed it to me.
We both went to work on one side of the car each. I was trying to get the metal inserted in the car door when Kane said, “Done!”
I threw the piece of metal on the pavement, shaking my head. “Shit, I fooled myself into thinking I stood a chance for a minute there.”
Kane opened the car door at his side, chuckling. “Poor deluded fool.”
He unlocked the other door from the inside of the car, allowing me to get in. I sat behind the wheel, he in the passenger seat.
He opened the glove compartment and started to remove the contents. Lipstick, a map, tissues, and a GPS car navigation system. He put them in my lap.
“Anything interesting?”
“Is this your way of testing me?” I asked. “I figure the GPS might be interesting. I could check out the latest destinations in there to find out where’s she’s been.”
“Good thinking, kid. Might be hope for you yet.”
I activated the gadget and familiarized myself with the menu. Pretty quickly I was able to access the recent destinations. The addresses didn’t really tell me much, so I took a picture of the screen with my iPhone. I would look up the addresses later.
“It’s getting pretty late. Maybe I should head home and get some sleep after we check out the trunk,” I said.
“I guess you still need your beauty sleep,” Kane said. “Fine. I think the trunk can be opened from the inside the car.”
He was right. There was a button near the steering wheel that opened the trunk. We got out of the car and checked out what was in it. Nothing but a spare tire, it turned out.
“Well, that was pretty useless,” I said. “Guess the GPS is our only lead.”
“Guess so. Come on, let’s get you home,” Kane said and put a hand on my back, leading me to the Hummer.
We got into the Hummer and drove off.
“I was wondering whether you managed to get a look at the shooter or driver that tried to do you in.” Kane said.
“I got the license plate.”
Kane laughed his unpleasant laugh. “Shit load of good that will do you. That car was stolen and you know it was.”
I sighed, rubbing my tired eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Of course I do.”
“It sounds like it was a semi-professional kind of job. Hired muscle, but not prime material. Low-level mob guys or something. I’ll put the word out I’m interested in finding out who’s trying to hit you.”
“Thanks. Think you’ll get anything?”
“Never know. People know it’s better for their health to talk to me before I find out they were holding back information.”
I nodded. “Yeah, I can believe that.”
“I’m coming over to your place. You stocking enough whiskey?”
“I got maybe a half bottle of Jack.”
“Sounds like we need to stop at a liquor store.” I had known Kane to drink whiskey like most people drink coffee. Strangely enough, I’d never seen him drunk.
“I’m still amazed I feel comfortable around you while you drive and handle guns with the amount of liquor you down daily.”
“It’s just the fuel that keeps my motor running. Now shut the fuck up and listen to some Muddy.” He popped in a Muddy Waters cd and dialed up the volume.
I decided to lean back a little and try to relax. Kane was an alcoholic assassin but the most qualified person ever to keep me safe.
THIRTEEN
I got some shuteye in my apartment. Kane told me he was going to sleep in one of my more comfortable chairs. When I got out of bed to take a leak, I saw him sitting on the chair, leaning on an assault rifle. His eyes were open, but his slow breathing made him seem to be asleep. He still managed to give me the creeps, making me wonder if he was even human.
Suddenly he stood up straight, his M4A1 rifle’s stock against his shoulder, finger on the trigger, hand under the barrel.
“Did you hear that?” he said.
I was just shocked he’d been aware of my presence. “What do you mean?”
“Footsteps. In front of your door.”
“You’ve got Superman-like hearing now too?”
“Get your gun and take cover,” Kane ordered.
I knew better than doubting the assassin’s advice. I ran over to the gun safe in my bedroom and removed the 9mm Beretta I kept there.
I walked back into the living room where Kane was still standing in the same position, rifle aimed at the door.
I stood next to him, following his lead and aiming the Beretta at the door. I stood in the classic Weaver position, rear foot straight to anticipate the recoil, forward knee slightly bent.
The door flew open. Two men appeared in the doorway. Tough looking guys with football player physiques wearing warm-up jackets. They were carrying Mossberg shotguns, barrels sawed off.
Kane didn’t bother telling them to drop their weapons. That was for cops and the kind of stuff that would get you killed. There was the pop-pop sound of Kane’s rifle and the cracks of my Beretta as bloody red flowers blossomed on the invaders’ jackets.
They probably thought they were surprising us. Too bad there’s not much of a possibility to ever surprise Kane.
As the echo of our gunfire died down and the smoke dispersed, there were two dead bodies in my doorway. No need to check their pulses to know they were gone. Kane always shot to kill, and in cases like these, I did too.
We walked over to the dead bodies. Kane knelt down beside them, leaning on the rifle for support. “Italians.”
I joined him. “Seems like it. Do you know them?”
“One of them. His name’s Franco Tucci. Works for Marco Calabrese.”
“Calabrese? Shit, that’s one of my dad’s biggest rivals.”
“Sure is. Handles most of the gambling in LA, has his hands in a lot of pies. Has some thriving legitimate businesses too. Just like your dad.”
“Do you think Calabrese might have sent these guys after me to get to my dad or something?”
Kane shook his head. “Calabrese is not that dumb. He’s not looking for a gang war with your father. That would only be bad for business. He has his activities, and your dad has his. No, he’s after you because of something you’re involved in.”
“I can’t imagine what his connection to the Carol Dickinson case could be. And there’s nothing else I’m working on at the moment.”
Kane grinned. “Sounds like we’re going to have to ask him ourselves what his involvement is.”
“Can’
t say I’m very eager to.”
“You saw what kind of push-overs he employs. No need to worry.”
I could hear sirens in the distance already. Gunfire in the middle of the night tends to make your neighbors call the cops.
“That’s my cue to leave,” Kane said. “I’ll see you later after the boys in blue have done their thing.”
Before I could protest he was out the door, his duster billowing behind him like some goddamned cape.
FOURTEEN
The whole thing turned out to be a huge fucking déjà-vu. Cops turned up, gave me lip. Called lieutenant Williams who gave me more lip. This time I had two dead guys in my apartment though. No way to avoid a ride to the precinct in their Crown Vic.
Williams and his sidekick Connor had me in one of their interrogation rooms playing bad cop/badder cop. I was sitting on a lousy foldout chair behind a scratched table. Williams was sitting on a chair in front of me. Connor was sitting on the table.
“So who the fuck were those guys you shot?” Williams asked me.
“I’m sure you know already. I’m pretty sure you’re aware they’re Calabrese’s boys.”
“So what were they doing at your place?”
“Come on, that’s pretty fucking obvious. It should be even to you. They were coming to kill me, just like they’d tried to do before, over at the restaurant.”
Connor slapped me against the back of my head. “Watch the fucking attitude!”
Instinctively I readied a fist to strike the cop, but reason won out. If I wanted to get out of there soon so I could continue my investigation I would have to take it easy.
“Easy. You don’t want my lawyer to slap you guys with a lawsuit. The LAPD’s history with police brutality is bad enough as it is.”
“Right. Don’t do that again, Connor.” I wasn’t deluding myself into thinking Williams was suddenly on my side. He just didn’t want to botch this. He knew my lawyer, Maxwell Slim, was one of the best in the country.
“Sorry. This guy just has a way of rattling my ass.”
“Sure. So, Milano… I guess you’re saying you shot those mooks in self-defense.” Williams leaned back, getting comfortable. At least as comfortable as possible on those crappy chairs.
“Yep. Them or me.”
“The crime scene guys told me not all shells matched your gun’s.”
I just shrugged.
“Don’t fuck with me, Milano. We both know they belonged to those psychotics you hang out with, that Kane guy or the fat guy.”
“I must object. Tony is big boned, not fat.”
Williams rubbed his eyes. “It is always so goddamned tiring interviewing you. Just tell me who was with you.”
“Sorry.”
A knock on the door. Williams told Connor to open it. Slim Maxwell, well-dressed as ever, burst into the interrogation room flanked by Kane.
“Wait a minute!” Connor said and tried to stop them. Maxwell pushed him aside.
“Lieutenant Williams, still got a hard-on for my client? That’s the only reason I can think of for someone of your rank to busy himself with a simple case of self-defense.”
“What the hell? You can’t just barge in here like that? And why the fuck is that madman with you?”
Kane glared at Williams. “That’s not nice.”
Williams was one of the toughest cops I know, but I saw that Kane’s cold stare rattled him. It’s like death itself is staring you in the face.
“My client deserves some legal counsel. And this man right here was a witness to the events in my client’s apartment.”
“Wait a minute, you’re telling me you want to use this guy as a witness? At least it clears up who the other slugs belong to,” Williams said.
“Lieutenant, come on. It was a clear case of self-defense. They invaded my home carrying shotguns. Maxwell shouldn’t even be needed to get me out of here,” I said. “I’m not sure why Calabrese is after me, but I will tell you what case I’m working on right now, how’s that sound?”
“It’s a start,” Williams said.
FIFTEEN
Maxwell Slim threatened a little more and I coughed up some edited facts about my case. Eventually, I was sprung. I thanked Maxwell, who’d been alarmed by Kane and watched him drive off in his Mercedes. Kane had his Hummer waiting for me.
“Thanks for getting me out of there,” I told Kane as I got in the Hummer.
“No problem,” he said. “Where do we go next? Maybe we could pay Calabrese a little visit, ask him why he’s sending his thugs after you?”
“Isn’t that a lot like going into the dragon’s den?”
An insane smile appeared on Kane’s face. “Yeah, isn’t that just great?”
I sighed. Maybe Williams was right and Kane was a madman. “You always were a fan of the direct approach. I want to call Minnie first, see if she’s okay.”
“Way ahead of you. She and Tony are just fine, but a little rattled you were in another shoot-out.”
“All right. Calabrese then? Where can we find him?”
“This time of day, he usually frequents a Hollywood strip joint. Has a serious hard-on for one of the star performers. We can look him up there.”
“Sounds like a plan, I guess.”
Kane steered the car away from the police parking lot. “Setting course for it right now. You carrying any one dollar bills to show your appreciation for the ladies?”
“One dollar bills? Didn’t know you were a cheapskate?”
SIXTEEN
If you’ve seen one strip club, you’ve seen them all. Still, with half a night sleep missing, it was a good way to keep me awake. The talent on stage was considerable.
Kane had taken care of the cover charge. It was still early in the afternoon, but four tables were occupied. Nothing like some tits getting shoved into your face to get through your lunch break, right?
When we came in, the stage was occupied by a petite Asian woman wearing red high-heeled shoes and red lace panties. She also wore a red bow-tie for some extra added class. She worked the stripper pole like she was competing in the Olympics, small breasts sporting nipples that stood erect like good little soldiers. Either the air-conditioning was on too high or she liked her work.
Kane gave me a nudge. “Nice, huh?”
“Yeah, not bad. Do you see Calabrese? It’s kind of dark in here.”
Kane laughed. “I think you’re just a bit too busy looking at the hottie on stage. It should be obvious to you Calabrese is the one with the two goons sitting at this table.”
Kane was right. I seemed to have used my investigative skills on the wrong person. A fat, balding man with a lot of rings on his fingers was sitting at a table in the corner. Two tough looking characters in sports jackets, wearing gold chains around their necks, flanked him. Calabrese had all his attention on the stage. The men with him did an admirable job scanning their surroundings.
“Guys, you’re missing out on the show,” I told them.
One of the thugs, who was wearing a black jacket, gave me a look like I was something stuck to the bottom of his shoe. “Who the fuck are you?”
“Ask your boss, he seems to be interested in me,” I said.
I’d managed to catch Calabrese’s attention. “Who the fuck? Noah Milano?”
“Alive and kicking. No thanks to your boys,” I said.
The tough guy’s hands went into their jackets. Kane appeared behind me, holding two Beretta’s with silencers. “Get those hands away from there. Now.”
Reluctantly, the thugs complied.
“You guys got some balls coming over here and threatening my men.” Calabrese’s head had turned beet red.
“I could comment on your balls too, sending two thugs to kill me.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Two bouncers, arms covered with tattoos appeared. “Any problems here?”
“No, I got it covered,” Kane said, waving his guns.
The eyes of the bouncer opened wide.
“What the fuck? You can’t go around waving guns in here!”
“These exact guns say I can,” Kane deadpanned.
“Relax guys. It’s okay. I’ll handle this,” Calabrese told the bouncers. They seemed to know to do what Calabrese said. Good move for them.
The Asian stripper also had us in her sights. She did her best to keep dancing but couldn’t help staring at our little party.
I walked over to her holding a fistful of dollars. I tucked them under the elastic of her panties and told her not to mind us and keep on dancing. She nodded, a bit hesitant. She went back to dancing. I’d paid for a show. I appreciated the muscular athleticism of the legs for a second before I headed back to Calabrese.
“Sorry, as a resident of Hollywood, I feel the show should always goes on. Now where were we… Oh yeah, I was asking you why the fuck you sent some goons after me.”
“And I was telling you I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Calabrese said.
I got really close to Calabrese, making sure he could see the venom in my eyes. “Listen, this can go two ways. The easy way is telling me why you want me dead so maybe we can work something out. The hard way is not telling me, and you keep sending killers after me. In that case, I’ll keep sending them to the morgue until it’s your turn. How does that sound? You almost got my best friend killed. That means the gloves are off.”
Kane pulled back the hammers of his guns. “And I didn’t have any gloves to start with. I like the kid, I like his friend. I don’t like you. Tell him what he wants to know or I’m going to roast your fat ass on a spit.”
Calabrese got on his feet surprisingly fast for a guy that fat. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to?”
I nailed him right in the face with my fist. It sent him flying back in his seat. Kane waved his guns at the bodyguards to make sure they knew better than to interfere.
“Ah… Fuck… You broke my nose,” Calabrese said through the bubbling blood.
“And I’ll be breaking your legs if you don’t cooperate real fucking soon,” I said.
“Okay, you asshole. Only thing you need to know is that you’re investigating something that has a relationship to one of my investments. Let’s leave it at that. You quit the investigation of Carol Dickinson’s death, and I pay you a generous amount of money and call off the shooters.”
The Death Business (A Noah Milano Novella) Page 5
