by Ivan Infante
The car surged toward him. He could see her at the wheel. She had a wicked smile. He raised the pistol. The car hit him hard, but he jumped in the air and landed on the hood. He had the pistol aimed straight at her. She slammed on the brakes to try and throw him off. He held on. The car stopped and idled with Mike clinging to the hood and the girl perched behind the wheel her face twisted and demonic. She stared down the barrel for a long time, then finally put her hands up and bowed her head in defeat.
Mike climbed down off the hood and slid around to the passenger side. He got in the car and sat next to her. He grimaced as he adjusted himself in the seat. Being hit by the car hadn’t helped his leg. “Nice try, but I’m not giving you up for free.” Mike spoke the words slowly and well-spaced out. “I’ll kill you first.”
She didn’t panic. She kept driving. “How much you want?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure who’ll be the highest bidder.”
“Tino.” She took her hands off the wheel and steered with her knees while she lit another cigarette. “He’ll pay more if you keep it quiet.”
“He’s moving up on your old man?” Mike settled back in his seat at an angle so he could have a good view of her profile. He figured her story was going to be about half true and he didn’t want to miss a bit of it.
“Doug never was very smart.” She spoke without taking her eyes of the road. “But since he was the only one who saw me and Davey, I figured we’d have to kill him to be safe. So I made sure he was the one to bring the ransom. We hid in the station all night waiting for him, but he never came.”
“I know, I was there.” Mike tossed his smoke out the window and took a better grip on the pistol. “Doug came to us with a plan to take the money.”
“You would have had to kill Davey to get away with that.” She said.
“I was going to. I figured you’d just go home when he disappeared. Maybe you’d think he ditched ya.”
“That’s pretty cold.” Her tone carried no accusation. She spoke matter of fact.
“Pretending to be kidnapped so you can steal 50 large from your old man isn’t all that warm either.” Mike said.
“You don’t know a God damn thing.” She fixed him in a cold stare. She didn’t say another word. Their conversation was over.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
By the time she pulled up to Benny’s, the drinkers were stumbling out. The professionals boozers poured themselves into their cars and swerved out of the parking lot. The amateurs took their bottles and stumbled toward Wilshire and the park. Back in New York, a lot of the amateurs would have frozen to death. Not here. In Los Angeles, it didn’t get cold enough. Mike wished it would. A freeze would clean the place out.
“Drive past. Head around to the alley and go to the back.” Mike said.
She followed instructions and drove around to the alley and pulled up to the back door. She parked right up next to it. He took the keys away from her as soon as she shut off the engine.
He got out and went around the hood to the driver’s side. He kept the gun on her the whole time. Mike pulled her out of the driver’s seat and dragged her to the back door of the saloon. When he got there, he pushed her against the wall and pounded on the door three times in quick succession. He waited for a response. None came, so he knocked three more times.
This time, the door opened. Benny stood there in a white apron. He took a step back when he saw all the blood on Mike. He was covered in it. He took a second step back when he saw the girl. “Is that her?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice to meet you.” Benny gave her a big smile.
“Go to hell.” She spat back.
“Cut it out.” Mike pushed the girl inside in front of him. Benny slammed the door behind them.
“Any customers still here?” Mike led the girl toward the basement trapdoor.
“No, I just tossed the last of them.” Benny answered quickly. He wanted time for his own questions. “How did you get her? What happened to your leg? Did she do that?”
“I stole her from the cops. One of them stabbed my leg.”
“You kill him?” Benny went in front of Mike to the trapdoor.
“Yeah.”
“Dammit Mike.” Benny kneeled down and opened the trap door.
“Hell no. I’m not going down there.” The girl twisted violently, but she couldn’t break away from Mike.
Mike pocketed the Savage, grabbed her by both arms and tried to shake the fight out of her. It didn’t work. She kept it up. Finally, Mike lost his patience and socked her in the belly. Her knees buckled.
Mike kept her from falling. He shifted his grip to her hands and lowered her slowly through the trapdoor. When she got close to the bottom, he dropped her and she fell to the floor. Mike and Benny climbed down after her.
Benny hit the light at the bottom of the steps. The weak bulb in the middle of the room didn’t penetrate to the corners. They remained obscure and impenetrable.
“Are you guys gonna bury me down here?” She sat on the dirt floor staring up at them and she sounded more insulted by the location than the deed.
“Like I told him. There’s no room down here.” Benny tried to sound reassuring. Mike reached down, grabbed her and pulled her up. She didn’t resist. Benny pulled a chair out of a corner and put it in the center of the room under the light. Mike sat her down in it.
“Are you kidding me? Please don’t leave me down here. It’s dark. There are probably rats down here. Please.” She tried to stand.
Mike shoved her down. He didn’t buy the act and neither did Benny. The little guy stepped out of the light and bustled around in one of the corners. When he came back, he brought some dirty old rope with him.
“I figure you’re worth more every day you stay away from the old man.” Mike stepped back as he spoke. Benny bound her to the chair tightly.
“Go to hell. I thought we were partners. Fifty fifty.” Her words lacked conviction.
“Is that why you tried to run me over?” Mike turned away from her and climbed out of the basement.
Benny finished tying her up. “You’ll be fine. I haven’t seen a rat in days.” He smiled and headed for the trapdoor. Before he climbed out, he shut off the light.
“Go to hell!” She screamed.
Benny climbed out and shut the trap door behind him. He and Mike stood there and listened. They could hear her scream. The door barely muffled it.
“Should we gag her?” Mike asked.
“No, she’ll run out of gas.” Benny patted Mike on the back. He was already counting the money.
They went into the kitchen. Benny walked to the sink and turned on the water. The noise drowned out the girl’s yelling. Mike came over next to him and picked a bottle of whisky and a shot glass off the counter. He poured a shot. He offered the glass to Benny. Benny took the bottle instead and gulped.
“They’ll pay.” Mike sipped his drink.
“Who? Her old man? You wanna do the family thing?”
“Or Tino?” Mike shrugged.
“How the hell do you plan on doing it?” Benny sounded more curious than worried, but worried was a little of it.
“So you’re still in?” Mike downed his shot.
“You’d have to beat me off with a stick.” Benny took another slug from the bottle, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and handed the bottle to Mike. Mike drank from it too.
“We can’t stay here long.” Benny started washing a few dishes that lay in the bottom of the sink. Mike kept drinking.
“Where?” Mike put the bottle down. It was empty. He had killed it.
“Malibu.” Benny said.
“Near that pier?” Mike smiled. It would be efficient if things went bad.
“Yeah, you go ditch that car and pick up a new one. Your cop buddies won’t be too far behind you. We gotta do this now.” Benny finished the dishes. He shut off the tap and dried his hands on his shirt.
“You got any more dishes to clean, ma’am.” Mike n
odded sarcastically toward the sink.
“It clears my head, pal.” Benny headed out of the kitchen.
Mike followed. They walked past the trapdoor. It was quiet down there now. The girl had given up on screaming. Benny opened the back door.
“I’ll be back in fifteen.” Mike stepped out.
“Make it ten.” Benny closed the door and locked it.
Mike took seven minutes. He dumped the car a couple of blocks away and picked up a Chrysler Airflow he found parked on the next block. The Chrysler was perfect. It had enough space in back to lay the girl flat along with a couple of others, if it came down to that.
He drove it back to Benny’s and parked in the alley. He got out and knocked three times on the back door. This time, Benny didn’t answer. Lo did and he didn’t look happy.
“Where’s Benny?” Mike asked.
“Upstairs. Packing.” Lo turned and shuffled upstairs.
Mike went to the trap door. He kneeled down, opened it and listened. He didn’t hear a sound. After a second, he climbed downstairs into the darkness.
He hit the light at the bottom of the stairs. The girl had tipped her chair over while struggling against the ropes and lay writhing on the floor. She didn’t stop when he turned the lights on; she picked up the pace. Her struggle had dirtied her clothes and face, but it had been in vain. Her bonds remained tight. Mike walked over to her, picked up her chair, and set it right.
“We’re going to the beach.” He untied her from the chair, but left her hands tied behind her.
“I don’t like the beach.” She barked at him.
Benny waited for them at the top of the stairs. He was carrying a suitcase. Lo was with him. He had a box of food and supplies. Lo went out first and loaded the supplies into the back seat of the Chrysler. Benny followed him. The little guy threw his suitcase in the backseat too, then climbed behind the wheel.
“Come on.” Mike and the girl came last. He pulled her along by the arm. She didn’t scream or struggle.
“Put her in the trunk.” Benny shouted from the driver’s seat.
Mike nodded and pulled her toward the back of the Chrysler.
“You can’t be serious?” She started struggling again.
Mike dragged her along to the trunk and opened it. She fought hard, but Mike was twice her size. She screamed, so he punched her in the belly and knocked the wind out of her. As she stood there gasping for breathe, he wrapped his arms around her, picked her up like a sack, and dropped her into the trunk.
Mike slammed it closed, jogged to the passenger side, and slid in next to Benny. The little guy hit the gas and they sped away from the saloon. As they turned out of the alley, they hit a pothole and the car bounced. They heard a grunt from the trunk. Mike couldn’t help but smile.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Benny drove the Chrysler down a steep narrow track between seaside cliffs somewhere past Malibu. It was a bumpy ride. They headed for the pier where Benny kept his rowboat. When they got there, Benny didn’t drive onto the pier. Instead he turned right and drove a few hundred yards on a sliver of pebble strewn beach nestled between the Pacific and the cliffs. When the beach widened out a little, he turned toward a rickety wood-slat shack that stood hunched-up against the sandstone. He parked next to it. The sun was almost directly overhead, but the shack was still in the cliff’s shadow. Waves crashed against rocks fifty yards away. It was low tide.
Mike hopped out, jogged to the trunk, and opened it. She had gotten pretty bruised up on the trip and she was angry. Her eyes were narrow slits. She looked like she was capable of anything.
“Make sure she stays tied up.” Benny stood next to Mike. He had his revolver out. She was bigger than him and fiercer. She scared him.
“Yeah. That’s a good idea.” Mike nodded.
He reached into the trunk and rolled her over just enough to check her bonds. They were still tight. Satisfied, he picked her up and took her out. As soon as she was on her own two feet, she kicked him in the shin.
“Damn you!” Mike jumped back.
Benny stepped in and pushed her away from Mike before she could kick again. Then he grabbed her arm and jammed his revolver into her waist. She calmed down and Benny led her toward the shack. Mike followed them. She had kicked his bad leg and he was limping again.
Benny stopped at the door to the shack and turned to Mike. “Take her.”
Benny pushed the girl in Mike’s direction and he grabbed her. She tried to twist away from him, but she was getting tired now and Mike had an iron grip.
Benny unlocked the door to the shack and led them inside. “Now what?” He asked after he shut the door behind them.
“We’ll need a third man. Someone good with a rifle.” Mike steered the girl into the shack. It was small, dark and dirty.
“I got just the fella. You remember Sloppy John?” Benny asked.
“Vaguely.” Mike remembered him perfectly. Sloppy John came out of Chicago. He was top notch at the short con. He mostly hustled suckers in fixed-dice games. Mike worked with him once in a crooked betting room that had been set-up by an operator who called himself the Reverend.
Benny talked fast. “Well, Sloppy got chased out of Riverside and was looking for work last time we spoke.” Benny pointed to a flimsy chair and changed the subject. “Put her over there.”
“All right.” Mike pushed the girl toward the chair. “Sloppy’s good with a rifle? When did you talk to him?”
“Yeah, he likes to get drunk and hunt. I went with him last year. He’s got a nice rifle, too. Anyway, we spoke again last night. He wants to work.” Benny stayed by the door with his hand on the knob.
“You can reach him today?” Mike put the girl in the chair.
Benny nodded. “If I can’t raise him on the phone. I know where’s he’s staying.”
“Then get going. And hurry.”
“Sure thing.” Benny walked out.
Mike went to the door and watched Benny climb into the Chrysler. The little guy gunned the engine and sand sprayed out from the back wheels. Mike closed the door before too much sand got on him.
Mike stood in the doorway for a long time. With the door closed, the shack was dark. Mike reached into his pocket for a match. He found one and struck it on his shoe. With the help of the match light, Mike found the thing he needed. He shook the match out before it could burn his fingers and walked a few paces to the wall. He struck another match when he got there and lit a lantern on a table in the corner. The feeble light left much of the shack in the dark.
Mike turned back to the girl. She stared at him from the chair. Her incisors showed over her lower lips like fangs and her eyes measured the distance to the door. He knew she would make a run for it. They both knew it would be a waste of time.
She bolted for the door anyway. Mike ran toward her and cut off her escape route. She threw a shoulder at him. He took it, then pushed back so hard she fell ass first onto the floor. She sat there looking up at him. Her face was flush. He ambled over and bent down to pick her up. He grabbed her under the arms and pulled her up. Her face got close to his. She didn’t try to wiggle away; she lingered.
He pushed her back toward the chair. When he sat her down, he made a sign with the flat of his palm that told her he’d smack her if she didn’t stay put. She got the message and nodded, so Mike turned away and looked for rope. He found some frayed cord in a corner and started to tie her to the chair.
“You gotta ladies room in this dump?” Her voice had softened.
“I don’t know. I suppose we’ll go out back.” Mike stopped with the rope.
“Can I go now?” She squirmed a little for emphasis.
“Sure.” He pulled her out of the chair and led her outside.
The sun half-blinded them up when they stepped outside onto the beach. The girl stood in front of him and the sun shined on her hair. She was beautiful. It distracted him.
“I really have to go.” She pulled against his grasp.
He sna
pped out of it. “All right.” He tightened his grip and dragged her around to the back of the shack. There was a narrow space filled with trash between the shack and the cliffs. It smelled terrible. Mike put her in there and turned his back.
“You have to untie me.” She said.
“You can’t just squat down?”
“No, I can’t just squat down. Am I the first woman you’ve ever known?” She sounded exasperated like she was explaining something to someone stupid.
Mike didn’t like it. He stepped forward and got very close to her. He stood inches in front of her. She tried to back away, but there wasn’t enough space behind her.
“Don’t you dare.” The girl sounded frightened for the first time. “Please, I promise I won’t run. Where would I go?”
He started picking up her dress. He did it slowly, rolling the fabric up in his fingers. He whispered in her ear while he did it. “I’ve heard that kinda talk from you before. I don’t believe it for a second. You’ve been running with no place to go since the night I met you.”
Her body shivered and her eyes went blank. Her fight was gone and that got to him. He let go of her dress and the fabric dropped back down to her knees. Then he spun her around and untied her hands. She rubbed her wrists. They were red and swollen.
“Don’t try anything.” He said.
“Thanks.” She answered.
“Thanks nothing. Get it over with.” Mike turned away and stared out at the sun glimmering on the water, but he didn’t move an inch. When she was done, he tied her up again and took her back into the shack. They shared no more patter.
Benny returned a few hours later. Sloppy John was with him. John wore a cheap over-sized suit, a straw hat, and a wide black tie. He had a corn cob pipe in his mouth and it dangled from his lips at an odd angle. In his right hand, he carried a beat-up leather briefcase. He looked like an Okie salesman who had come into a little money. When he saw Mike, he smiled and strode over to shake his hand. He had a firm grip. “How ya doin’ Mike?” He asked.
