by Frank Zafiro
I forced my eyes to the bed.
Even folded in half and tied to the bed-post, I recognized her. The slick, red hair was disheveled and there was no hint of anger in her slack face. She still wore the large cross at her neck.
My stomach churned.
VIRGIL
As he stared into the other room, Tower’s face, reddened with the excitement of our stand-off, went gradually white and his lips tightened against each other.
When he moved his eyes slowly back to me, a new hatred burned in his eyes.
TOWER
I flashed a look at Virgil.
“Is she dead?” I asked.
Virgil shrugged slightly. “He hit her pretty hard right.”
I looked back at the young girl’s face and at her bare chest, watching for signs of breath.
“She would be, though.”
I couldn’t tell if she was breathing or not.
Turning my eyes back to Virgil, I asked, “Would be?”
“Dead. If we hadn’t stopped him, she would be dead right now for certain.”
I met his eyes again and stared into them.
VIRGIL
“My way is better,” I said again.
Tower’s lip twitched as he struggled with the dilemma.
“I’ll sweeten the pot for you,” I said, looking for the final push to send him over the edge.
“How’s that?” Tower asked, an odd rasp to his voice.
“In the small of my back is a gun I think you’ll want back.”
“Why would I want it?”
“It belongs to one of your brothers.”
Confusion washed over Tower’s face. “What?”
I struggled with the proper way to tell him. If I planted the hook wrong, he’d want to nail me for what I did to the other cop.
“Let’s just say I found it after I talked with the blonde hooker.”
TOWER
My mind raced. He had to be talking about Toni. And if he was talking about Toni-
Hiero. He had Hiero’s gun.
How did that happen?
Virgil watched me and I watched him back. His gun hand didn’t move, but his left hand drifted slowly to the small of his back. He drew out a Glock just like mine and held it by the barrel.
“You want it?” he asked.
“How’d you get it?”
Virgil was silent for a moment. Finally, he said, “Sometimes people are in the wrong place at the wrong time and shit goes bad for them.”
“You’re the one who beat up Hiero,” I accused him.
Virgil shook his head. “Wrong place, wrong time. Now he’s fucked and you can help him out.”
I stared down the barrel of my gun at him. “Why should I believe anything you say?”
“Because you know it’s the truth.”
VIRGIL
I knelt slowly down, my gun still near Rowdy but not on him. Carefully, I laid the cop’s gun on the ground and pushed it across the bare concrete floor. It bumped into Tower’s foot but he never moved his eyes from me.
I stood back up and shifted my weight, getting ready for whatever play Tower was going to make.
“There’s the deal. Your buddy’s life for his.”
My eyes flashed to the moaning biker on the ground.
Tower’s face went pale and he swallowed hard before speaking. “I don’t make deals.”
“Then we’re both going to end up bloody here. There’s no one coming to your rescue, is there, Tower?”
TOWER
So there it was. I couldn’t bluff him and he couldn’t bluff me.
Somebody was going to die in this room, I realized.
Take the deal. Help Hiero out of a bind.
I shook my head slightly. I didn’t owe Hiero anything. Except that he wore the same badge as me.
Rowdy killed this guy’s little girl.
He killed Serena Gonzalez.
I tried to push that thought from my head, but the picture of the red-haired girl in the next room replaced it.
Rowdy was sick. He was broken.
You’re a cop. Not a judge.
Virgil’s eyes never left mine. It was like he was listening to the screaming inside my head.
“Your way, he gets prison. Maybe.” Virgil said, his voice almost soothing. “My way, he gets what he deserves.”
Rowdy moaned and pushed himself up to his knees. “Where’s my little fuck-bitch?” he muttered like a drunk.
Slowly, I lowered my gun.
VIRGIL
As soon as Tower lowered his gun, I moved toward Rowdy and brought my Glock up on him.
“What the fuck?” Rowdy yelled as his head listed and eyes struggled to focus.
With a thrust, I jammed the Glock into Rowdy’s right eye.
“Hey, man,” Rowdy slurred just before I pulled the trigger.
TOWER
The loud crack of the shot made me jump. It was coupled with the wet slapping sound of the bullet tearing away Rowdy’s face.
I watched Rowdy fall limply to the floor and a piece of me died right there with him.
VIRGIL
My eyes shifted away from Rowdy’s limp body to the cop standing to the right of me. His face was whiter than it had been but his eyes watched me intently.
I nodded to the southwest corner of the room. “I’m gonna walk through that door over there nice and slow,” I said, my voice as calm as I could make it, “and you get to be the hero by saving the girl.”
TOWER
“I’m no hero,” I muttered to him.
Virgil shrugged and watched me.
I swallowed slowly and tried to think.
“Are we good?” Virgil asked me.
I realized that I’d made my decision when I lowered my gun. Enough blood had been spilled here today.
I looked at Virgil’s gun and the black leather gloves he wore.
“Leave the gun,” I told him.
He didn’t move, but only looked at me.
“Is the gun clean?”
“Of course.”
“Then leave it,” I told him. “Don’t make it something we have to look for.”
VIRGIL
Tower’s face had softened but his eyes remained alert. His gun hung at this side. I didn’t think he’d shoot me, but I wasn’t about to play odds with a cop.
I exhaled slow and hard through my nose, forcing me to calm down and consider the situation. “I’ll drop it after you put your gun away.”
Tower gripped his gun tighter and his head shook slowly. “I can’t do that.”
I backed up slowly to the door, my arm extended behind me feeling for the door. In my other hand, my Glock stared harmlessly at the floor. “And I can’t turn my back on you.”
TOWER
Virgil was almost to the door.
“Then drop the gun when you get outside,” I told him. “I don’t care. This just has to be wrapped up tight.”
The big man nodded slowly, finally understanding that I wasn’t going to betray him. Virgil’s hand touched the push bar on the door and he hesitated for a second.
“Hey.”
Virgil’s face was impassive. “What?”
“Turn left when you get out that door. And run.”
Virgil gave me a nod and shoved the crash bar on the door. Light flooded the room as he slipped through the doorway. He was haloed by the light for a brief moment, then disappeared.
VIRGIL
The fresh April air greeted me when I moved outside. I dropped my gun as I sprinted away from the building and past Rowdy’s white van. Three loud cracks rang out, forcing me to pick up my pace.
I glanced over my shoulder searching for Tower and expecting to see a gun blazing away in his hand. When I saw nothing, I turned forward and continued to run, thankful for an honest cop.
Wednesday, April 21st 1421 hrs 1612 East Wales
TOWER
The door slammed shut and for a brief moment, I was engulfed in darkness.
After a seco
nd or two, my eyes readjusted to the low light in the room. I stared at Rowdy’s still form on the floor and the growing slick of dark blood spreading outward from what remained of his head.
I raised my gun and fired three quick shots at the door. I aimed for the doorjamb just to the right of the door. The bullets bit into the drywall and two by fours with a thud as the muzzle flashed in my hand.
When the echo of the shots died away, I stood still for a long moment, looking at the door through the tendrils of smoke, which rose from the barrel of my gun. The sulfuric odor of gunpowder mixed with the coppery smell of blood and filled the air.
I took several deep breaths, trying to think and not wanting to think, all at the same time.
You screwed up, John.
I sniffed at the smell that hung heavily in the air.
You killed him, as sure as if you pulled the trigger.
I cleared my throat and that sound in the still air startled me. I slid my Glock back into the holster. I walked over to the door and pushed the crash bar, swinging the door open into the sunlight. Virgil’s gun lay on the dirt path near the back door. I left it there.
I stepped back into the building and hurried toward the small room where Rowdy had tied up the girl. As I passed Hiero’s gun on the floor, I snatched it up and put it in the small of my back, covered by my sport coat. Inside the room, the degrading pose and the brutality of the object inside her sent a shot of rage through my belly.
I pulled the grotesque green piece of plastic from her and set it on the bed, resisting the urge to hurl it against the wall. An open folding knife with a blackened tip lay on the ground near the shattered boom box. I used it to cut the girl free. Her legs sprung downward as soon as I cut the rope and she flopped loosely onto her side.
My fingers found her carotid artery and I was almost immediately rewarded with a faint, lethargic heartbeat.
She was alive.
I removed my jacket and covered with it. A little of it was for warmth. The rest was for dignity.
A small moan escaped her lips.
“I’ll be right back,” I whispered to her, even though she probably couldn’t hear me.
I wanted to take her to my car and keep her there until medics arrived. But I couldn’t turn my car into a crime scene. The weight in the small of my back told me that.
I was desperate to comfort the girl and call her by name, but I remembered she hadn’t told me that night I saw her on Sprague and she’d been so angry about her dead brother. I settled for stroking her shoulder twice through my jacket, before turning and walking as fast as I could out of the room.
As I left the building the brisk air of April hit me like an icy wall. I realized how much I had been sweating when cold bit into me at my underarms, chest and neck. I could even feel the cold air on my legs through my slacks as I trotted toward my car and unlocked the door. Once I started the car, I reached across the passenger seat and opened the glove box. I put Hiero’s gun inside and slammed it shut.
Up the block, I could see the first curious heads poking out of windows. A pair of pedestrians came around the corner and stared up the street. Things were in motion. The show was about to start.
I took a deep breath and reached for the radio mike.
Wednesday April 21 st The Hole, 2:35 PM
VIRGIL
It took me fifteen minutes to get to The Hole after leaving Tower and Rowdy. I ran through the rundown neighborhood that survives to the north side of Sprague, eventually slowing down to a slight jog and then a walk. I pulled off my gloves and shoved them into a pocket. With a pair of shaky hands, I fired up a Camel and inhaled deeply into my lungs which already burned from the run and the brisk April air. I coughed several times before tossing the cigarette into the street and cursing myself.
As I walked, I heard several sirens in the area but none of them zoomed down any of the back streets I took. I knew all of them were running to the aid of Tower.
Once inside The Hole, the smell of stale beer and desperation greeted me like a comfortable old shoe. I ambled over to the bar and dropped onto a torn up stool. The bartender waddled over to me and put his arms on the marred counter in front of me. His enormous stomach struggled against the Seattle Seahawks shirt he wore.
“What’ll it be, pal?” he asked with a husky voice.
I suddenly felt weary and just wanted to lay down and fall asleep. You got any Jack Daniels?” I finally asked
He nodded his meaty head.
From a pocket, I pulled out a ten dollar bill and laid it on the counter.
While the bartender made my drink, I stepped over to the phone booth in the back corner. I pushed some quarters into the machine and punched a few buttons. Andie picked up on the third ring.
“Hello?” she asked, her voice soft and unaware.
I held the phone to my ear for a moment before saying softly, “It’s over.”
Before she could answer, I hung up. I then dug out my pre-paid phone card, hit some more buttons and was greeted by a thick voice announcing, “Bobo’s House of Chicken.”
“Jay, it’s me.”
“What up, my man?” His voice had a sense of lightheartedness that seemed out of place in my world.
“Tell him that my work up here is finished. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can.”
The playfulness in his voice faded away and he turned serious. “Want me to have him call you? I know he’s been worried about you.”
“No. Just pass that message.”
“You got it.”
I hung the phone up and returned to the bar. My Jack and Coke sat on the counter next to the change for my ten. With a single pull, I finished the drink and winced as the cold liquid played havoc with my broken teeth. When the pain subsided, I waved at the bartender for another. He shrugged and nodded at the same time. I wasn’t sure what the hell that meant so I let it slide.
When the fat man brought the drink over, I said, “Call River City Taxi and ask for Axel.”
He nodded and shuffled off to the phone behind the bar. I grabbed my drink and walked over to a booth and settled in.
Ten minutes later, I had my head leaned back on the booth when the door swung open and I heard a cane tap on the floor. I lifted my head. Rolo walked over to me with Rhonda close behind. Rolo was in a bright red jacket that fell to his knees. Even though the color was wrong, the puffy jacket still had the Raiders logo on the front. Rhonda was in a short, black leather jacket and a shorter black dress.
“Get me a drink, baby,” Rolo said before he fell in to the booth across from me.
Rhonda clicked her high heels over to the bar and leaned both of her arms on the dented brass rail that ran its length. Her ass stuck out highlighting her best feature for any takers.
“How’s business?” I asked.
He scrunched up his face for a moment before answering. “The same. Times is tight, but I manage. I’ll roll with the punches until I get my opportunity to punch back.”
“I think it’s going to improve real soon.”
His eyes widened and he leaned in over the table. “No shit?”
Through the front window of the bar, I saw a white River City Taxi pull up. I shifted my gaze back to Rolo and stood up. “I think the whole market is gonna break open for you today.”
Rolo laughed and slapped the table. When I turned toward the door Rhonda was standing next to me with a couple of drinks in her hands. “Hey, there,” she said with a smile. “What’s so funny?”
The big pimp pointed up at me. “This is the man, baby. If he wasn’t in such a hurry to leave, I’d make sure you gave him a trip around the world. On the house.”
Rhonda cocked her head and lifted her eyebrows. “Whaddya say? Got time for a little adventure?”
I shook my head. “Not today. Maybe some other time.”
Rhonda shrugged and slid into the booth across from Rolo. I extended my hand to the black man. “Thanks for your help.”
He grabbed my hand and shook it. “I
t’s been nice doin’ business with you.”
When I climbed in to the cab, Axel looked over at me. “Tough day?”
I smiled at him. “You can say that.”
“Where to?”
“The Davenport.”
Axel turned back forward, put the cab into gear and we lurched away from the curb. A few minutes later, the cabbie looked into the rear view mirror and caught my eye. “Want some music?”
“Yeah, actually, that sounds good. Make it a seventies station, if you got it.”
“Oh, yeah, we got a great station for those tunes.”
Axel reached over and flicked the radio on. Dobie Gray’s smooth voice filled the cab as he serenaded us with Drift Away.
I leaned my head back and closed my eyes for the rest of the trip.
She was sitting cross-legged in the chair when I walked into the hotel room. Her legs were bare except for the green dragon tattoo and she had on an over-sized black sweatshirt. Gina’s hair was tucked behind her ears and a cigarette smoldered in her hand.
Her eyes were concerned as she climbed out of the chair and met me halfway. “You okay?”
I nodded.
“It’s done?”
Another nod.
She wrapped her arms around me and hugged. I let myself fall into her embrace and I smelled her clean scent. I held her close and let the warmth of her body work through mine.
Gina broke the embrace and looked up to me. “What do we do now?”
Wednesday, April 21st 1701 hrs 1612 East Wales-Crime Scene
TOWER
I sat on the bumper of Lieutenant Crawford’s car, holding a small Styrofoam cup of coffee between my hands. The entire block was crawling with detectives, crime-scene techs and patrol officers. Every possible kind of lookie-loo gathered at the edge of the yellow crime-scene tape at the end of the block, watching the high drama of a homicide scene.
The light windbreaker someone had given me did little to break the chill I was feeling. The rotgut coffee in my cup tasted like turpentine, but at least it was hot.
