by P. N. Elrod
We skirted the edge of the course’s snow-shrouded, manicured grounds, keeping to the rough. The dead grass was a tangled, unmowed mess, the trees and bushes grew untended. Footprints would be hard to find in the slime of old leaves and frozen slush. The men who’d preceded us had kept clear of the unblemished snow.
Swann was far enough ahead, carefully picking his way along, and Thorp couldn’t see my lips. I pitched my voice low so only Remke could hear. “How much will it take?”
“What?” He shot me an appropriately skeptical glance.
“To get me out of here. How much?”
“You don’t have that kind of cabbage.”
“The hell I don’t. Look at my suit—it’s worth more than you made in the last month.”
“I make plenty, brother.”
“You can make plenty more. Real money, not just Swann’s handouts.”
“Big talker. What’s your idea of real money?”
He wasn’t about to be hooked, just curious. Any figure I gave would be too much or too little. A desperate man makes mistakes. A business man makes a deal.
“Look at my suit.”
“Already did, bo’.”
“Look again. I didn’t get this at Macy’s. Same for the coat. You felt it when you were holding onto the girl. It’s vicuna. You know about that stuff?”
“Maybe.”
“The only people who can get it are movie stars and guys like me. Look at my shoes.”
“It’s too dark.”
“Too bad. They’re handmade. Works of art from Marnucci and Sons of New York. You heard of them?”
He gave no reply but it was clear that he had. “So what?”
“So think about this: if I spend that much money on clothes, how much do you think I’ll spend to save my life?”
He mulled that one over. I wanted to give him more time to convince himself, but there was a fence coming up, and fifty yards beyond that Kaiser and the two diggers would be waiting. Remke wouldn’t do anything with them around.
“You like working for Swann?”
“It’s work, ‘like’ don’t come into it.”
“Only ’cause to him you’re just another mug. You heard the stories about me and Northside Gordy and what happened the other month with—”
“That’s Chicago. I don’t care what goes on there.”
“Then you heard. You know how it turned out. You know I’m stand-up. I make a promise, I keep it, come hell or high water. How many guys do you know like that?”
“A few.”
“Which of them can put you in a vicuna coat?”
“I’ll take yours when the dame’s done with it.”
“Which of them can put you in a vicuna coat with enough cash in the pockets to choke a horse?”
He made a noise low in his throat. It might have been a short laugh.
“I promise you, get me out of this and you get all that and the cash to choke two horses. You will be my new best friend.”
“I couldn’t pull it off.”
“Yes, you can. I’ll see to it you’re Northside Gordy’s new best friend. He’s a man who values friendship. If I say you’re in, you’re in.”
“What if I don’t want to be in?”
“That’s up to you. You can retire to Cuba if you want. Let them kill me and all you get is a muddy, secondhand coat.”
“What about the dame?”
“Skirts are a dime a dozen, but I wouldn’t say a word if you wanted to have some fun with her. If you swap places with Thorp—”
“What, so you can give him the same offer?”
“I’d have to yell it in his ear, and Swann’s sure to notice. Thorp doesn’t care about my money, he just wants to kill me.”
Remke did more thinking, the fence getting closer with every step.
“I’llsweeten the pot,” I said. “Swann’s looking to take over Brogan’s spot, right?”
“That’s the rumor.”
“What’s he promised you for your help? Money?”
“There’s that.”
“Probably not nearly enough for the risk. What about protection when it goes wrong?”
“It won’t go wrong.”
“Says, who? Swann? What is he, a jumped up bookkeeper?”
“He’s smart.”
“But he’s not Fleish Brogan. And he’s not me.”
Swann reached the fence and was having difficulty getting over it.
“Jeeze. . .look at him.”
Swann made a hash of scrambling over. On the other side he inspected his gloved hands for dirt before brushing down his clothes. By themselves the actions were nothing, but Remke saw them in a different light than he would have a few minutes ago.
“He may be smart, but who can respect him?” I asked.
A funny thing, respect. You have it or you don’t. Some kill for it. Others die for it. It is greatly desired by those in the rackets. Without it you are nothing.
“A boss named Swanny? You gotta be kidding me.”
Remke gave a little head shake. “I know, but we can’t do it.”
He said we. Progress.
“Sure we can. You don’t have to do anything. It’s all on me. If it goes south, you still get the dame and the coat.”
“What is it I don’t do?”
“Stall when we get to the fence. I can’t climb with my hands tied. Have Thorp help get me over. Switch places. You take the girl, and he watches me.”
“I take the girl?”
“A bonus for you right here and now.” I was scaring myself with how convincing I sounded. It was sickening, but Izzy had a better chance with Remke than Thorp.
“Swann won’t go for that.”
“His opinion don’t come into it.”
“Say I do this swap, what do you do?”
“I kick Thorp’s legs out and run like hell. In this dark and these woods, they’re not going to find me. All I need is a head start.”
“Then I don’t see you again.”
“Yes, you will. The Nightcrawler Club in Chicago. You ask for me or Gordy.”
“Why don’t you kick my legs out and run?”
“Because you’re younger and in better shape than Thorp. He’s limping badly. I can outrun him with my hands tied, but not you. While he’s looking for me, you can have your fun with the skirt and no one’s the wiser. Finish out whatever Swann wants done, then tomorrow you get on a train to Chicago.”
We reached the fence: weathered wood rails, only four feet high, but I wasn’t going over it easily.
“Sounds good, bo’,” he admitted. “Stand right there.” He turned me so my back was against the fence. “Now hold still.”
He suddenly stooped, grabbed my ankles, lifted strongly up, pushing and flipping me right over to the other side. I folded, tucking my head and completing a clumsy somersault. By the time I was on my feet, bruised and spitting mad, he’d jumped over.
He grinned. “You make a hell of a case, bo’, but I don’t know you.”
“I’m on the straight, dammit!”
“No, you ain’t. You tripped when it came to the skirt. You talk big, but you wouldn’t throw her to a wolf like me. You don’t want her hurt or you’d have made your move sooner when Kaiser had her.”
Bright bastard. Not what I’d anticipated, dammit.
He shoved me forward. The others had gone farther in than fifty yards. Flashlight beams bobbed erratically between the tree trunks ahead, but I couldn’t make out details. Remke pushed me again, and this time I tripped on something and fell hard. I barely remembered to keep my thumb looped in the rope to hold it tight.
Behind us, Thorp paused, watching from the other side of the fence. “Is he getting fresh?” He pressed the gun against Izzy’s temple.
Single-minded bastard.
Unbidden came the memory of examining Endicott’s skull with its entry and exit holes. I went still, my head down.
“He’s fine,” Remke answered. “Get up, rich man.” He caught my n
ear arm and pulled until I stood. Strong son of a bitch.
“Remke,” I said. “Listen to me: how much for just the girl? You get her out of here and I’ll set you up for life.”
“Can’t do that if you’re dead—and you will be. Sorry, bo’, but like the man said, when your number’s up, it’s up.”
“How long are you going to last with Swann? He can’t take the chance that you might blab the real story about tonight’s work.”
“Who’s Swann? Never heard of him.”
Thorp was occupied getting Izzy and himself over the fence. He’d pocketed the gun, keeping one big hand clamped to her wrist as her lifted her over, then followed himself, landing heavily. She tried to twist clear, but he slapped her, which first shocked, then pissed her off. She surprised me with the name she called him, and began fighting in earnest, kicking, scratching, cursing, and, when he tried to put a hand over her mouth, biting.
Remke found it entertaining.
She was hampered by the coat and too small to do Thorp much damage, but she had him—them—distracted.
I unhooked my thumb, slipped my hands free, and swung hard. Remke dropped without a word of warning to his pal. I rushed toward Thorp, but things had changed in that brief span of time.
Izzy rolled on the ground, clawing at my coat, trying to get out of it. Thorp must have shoved her down. He had his gun pointed at her again, but was looking at me, showing his teeth.
Izzy screeched something, defiance, denial—
Shot.
The surrounding fir trees muffled the flat report.
I slammed into him a half second too late. We flew backward into the fence with such force that the old wood snapped, and we went crashing through. We rolled in the frozen rough. I fell clear of him, staggered upright, and in two steps loomed over his body. I bent, grabbing a handful of coat, lifting him.
I’d rip the bastard apart.
But before I could deliver that first crippling blow, something tugged at my raised fist.
I nearly swatted it away, but Izzy screamed my name. She was unharmed and in one hell of a hurry.
“I got him first,” she was saying. “Let’s go!”
The salty, stinging scent of blood filled the air.
She tugged harder. “Come on!”
Thorp bled from his left side, just under the ribcage. Some of it had smeared on me. Between getting shot and hitting the fence, he was out for the count.
Couldn’t help myself, I grabbed and hugged her. She went oof, and told me to lay off.
“What did—how did—?”
She had a gun and held it up. “You gave me two of these, remember? They found one, but I hid the other in your overcoat pocket for Jonathan. In case he woke up.”
“I could kiss you, Einstein.”
“Later!” She bobbed away.
I kept pace as she tore down the path toward the break in the hedge. The others would have heard and be on the move. If we could make it to the truck I might be able to hotwire it before they caught up and she could—
Shot.
The bullet zipped by my ear with that angry bee sound. Flinching, I stumbled, but caught myself in time.
“Keep running,” I yelled at her. “Don’t look back!”
She ran, but passed the hedge break, heading for a stand of trees a few yards on. Good girl. They were too close behind, and there was no cover near the driveway that I’d noticed. She had a better chance hiding and being missed in the rough, though it would slow her.
Soon as she was in the trees, I vanished and doubled back, skimming the ground, listening as best I could for pursuit.
Swann must have sent other men on ahead of the truck. There were more here than himself, Kaiser, and the two diggers. I rose high, fighting the tug of wind and working to keep oriented so I faced the ground. Partially re-forming, I made out the foreshortened shapes of a dozen men spreading out from the break in the fence. Two went through the hedge to cover the truck, the rest were clearly after Izzy.
She was on the move, threading between the trees. My black coat made her less visible, but would work against her in a stretch of snow. The trees were a thin divider only yards wide between one section of the golf course and another. She hurried along the length of it, but would soon be forced to cross open ground when it ran out.
I dove, gaining weight and solidity, landing hard on the back of the man in the lead, driving him forward and down. We made a racket, swiftly drawing others. By now I didn’t care who saw what, and faded in and out like a bad light bulb, throwing punches, ducking, weaving, not letting anyone get a lick in for himself. I counted on the general darkness and chaos of my one-man free-for-all to hide the cheating. It seemed to work. When I hit, they stayed down. I lost count of how many as more kept coming.
Someone got his timing right and tackled me, but I vanished before striking ground and slipped clear of the mess. Rising again, I went high and pushed against the wind, aiming for the hedge.
Solid on its other side, I took care of the two men watching the truck, climbed into the cab, and hammered the horn. It might draw them away from Izzy; maybe a nearby resident would call the cops about the noise, though a big bunch like this would have no scruples about removing the law.
One of them came through the hedge opening, yelling to his pals to follow. By then I’d quit the truck and was loping down the road for all to see.
Surprisingly, no one fired. Before, they’d been packed in too close to risk it, maybe now they didn’t want the commotion.
I waved my arms like a lunatic, yelling as though in a panic. I was hard to miss. More men poured through the break in the hedge. It was like the Keystone Cops, but with black overcoats.
Headlights came around a curve ahead, pinning me in their glare. Jeez, how many had Swann invited to this party?
I cut across the road, aiming for the winter-bare trees on the side opposite the hedge. Once under their thin cover, I invisibly doubled back again, rising and letting the wind do the work. It would take me in Izzy’s direction while the goons below wasted time beating the bushes.
Floating in that grayness felt good, but had a price. When I landed and went solid I had to grab a tree trunk to keep my feet. Black spots clouded my view, and my head hurt like blazes for a moment. So much activity was draining me dry.
I could hear the mugs in the distance, calling to each other, trying to regroup. I looked and listened for Izzy, but there was no sign of her, and she didn’t reply when I cautiously whispered her name.
