Tony heard steps approaching. He felt the weight of the body being pulled up and off him. Tony looked up and faintly saw the face of his attacker. This had to be him, Tony thought, Talmadge Williams, the Handyman.
The killer aimed a gun at Tony's head.
And T-Bone ran for the door.
The killer turned and grabbed T-Bone, shaking him and yelling.
“Nooo!” The killer's voice was raspy, hard.
Tony reached up and grabbed for the killer's gun hand. He missed and fell to the floor.
T-Bone raised his knee into Talmadge's groin and the killer yelled in pain. T-Bone broke free and took several galloping strides around the killer and out of the dining room into the kitchen.
The killer followed T-Bone into the kitchen. He grabbed the drug dealer and punched him hard in the side. T-Bone groaned pitifully and fell against the refrigerator.
The killer prepared to strike him again, but T-Bone managed to evade the blow and kicked the killer in the leg. The Handyman fell to one knee. T-Bone kicked again this time catching him in the side of the head. The killer raised the .38 and fired into T-Bone's chest twice. T-Bone hit the floor hard and lay still.
“Sh ... No!” The killer said in shock. He stood and ran into the dining room where Tony was frantically trying to find his lost weapon. “You ruined everything!” the killer yelled. “All my planning, my patience . . . ruined.
The killer raised his gun, then stopped and put the weapon into his waistband and took a large knife out of his jacket.
“You'll take his place now. You have to. I have to finish the plan.” He stepped toward Tony who was pushing himself backwards on the floor.
Tony could see him now. He was big and muscular. Not the skinny kid he'd heard about. He probably had a handsome face, but it was contorted from his rage. A shadow fell across it, masking his eyes in blackness.
“That's enough,” said a voice from behind the Handyman.
The killer halted in his tracks.
Tony pushed himself backwards, away from the killer. He was gripped with shock at the sound of the voice he heard. He was so stunned that for a moment, he forgot the pain in his wounded side.
Behind the killer, he saw a man's silhouette and heard the voice of his partner, Jim Cole.
**********
Mayo sat down on the old sofa. The cops called to him from outside, but he said nothing.
If he surrendered, he thought, they charge him with murder and possession with intent to sell drugs. With his record, he'd be lucky to get a hundred years.
Prison. So many times he had nightmares about it. Nasty food, hard work, no women, and muscle-bound faggots around every corner. He knew a guy once, a tough mean bastard, who had gone to Jackson prison and came out three years later a flaming gay. They turned his ass out good.
Mayo heard the cops at the front door. He just sat there, holding the gun.
“Last chance. Come out!” said a woman's voice from the other side.
Mayo said nothing. The policewoman kicked in the door and stood in a shooting crouch in the doorway.
“Stand up, put the gun down, and place your hands over your head!” she said.
Mayo stood, holding the gun at his side.
“It's me, Johnson,” said a cop from the room behind Mayo.
“I got him!” yelled the woman cop.
Mayo heard the cop behind him move away, out of the line of fire.
“Put the fuckin' gun down or I'll blow your head off!!” the woman yelled.
Mayo looked at her, smiling. She meant it. Her gun was locked out in front of her. Her eyes had fire behind them.
At least he would go out like a man, Mayo thought.
Mayo jerked the gun up, and the woman officer fired; the bullet hit Mayo in the chest. The second shot caught him in the head. He dropped to the floor.
And landed right next to Magilla.
**********
“Move away from him,” said Jim.
The killer was motionless.
“Put your hands where I can see them and back away from the officer-now! “
Tony was holding his breath and didn't notice that blood trickled through the hand on his side. He knew Jim would shoot in another three seconds if the killer didn't drop his weapon.
Talmadge Williams dropped the big knife and reached for his gun in a shockingly swift move.
“Gun!!” yelled Tony.
The killer turned away from Tony, and Jim shot, hitting him in the side of the head. The killer fell, falling a few feet from Tony, and his gun discharged into the floor.
Jim rose from his shooting crouch and advanced into the dining room. Tony scrambled over to the Handyman's body and quickly grabbed the gun next to his hand.
Jim knelt down and checked the killer. He was gone. The shot was right on the money.
“You OK?” asked Jim. “Is the house secure? Are there any more of them?”
“You just shot the Handyman,” Tony heaved a little, adjusting himself on the floor.
“What?” Jim asked.
“That's him right there. How did you find me?”
“I saw you driving around in an old car. I was curious, so I got the license and followed you. When you went into IAD, it wasn't hard to figure out you were on to something. I laid back until I--”
Tony groaned and held his side tighter. Jim saw that he was bleeding.
“Stay put,” Jim said. ''I'll get you an ambulance. You can fill me in later.”
“No, don't leave me in here,” Tony said. “Get me out.”
“All right.”
Jim stooped and helped Tony to his feet. Tony stood but got dizzy and fell against a wall.
“Maybe I should stay behind,” Tony said. “But hurry.”
“OK, partner. Hold on.” Jim set Tony on the floor, then walked out of the dining room into the kitchen.
A shadow entered the back doorway in the kitchen. Jim pulled his gun, but was shot before he could get it out.
Jim was pushed backwards through the doorway between the kitchen and dining room. He fell back into the dining room, landing on his back.
“What the fu--”
Tony stood and hobbled out of the dining room into the living room. Another shot sounded and the light exploded.
“Police officer!” Tony yelled, pushing himself behind an old sofa. “Whoever you are, you just shot a cop you son of a bitch!”
“It's OK, Tony. I didn't know.”
Tony nearly dropped the gun. It was the voice of Chief Fuller.
22
Domino
What's up, Orr?” asked a passing uniformed cop.
Orris Martin reclined in his chair. Things were chaotic, but soon order would be restored. These damned black drug dealers were so hard-headed. Seemed like every five years or so he had to have one killed. It wasn't bad enough that he had to work [or Tony Hill, the black Golden Boy, but he had to deal with punks in the street, too. They were all a pain in the ass.
“My dick, same as always,” Martin laughed.
“Hey, what's the deal on all the brass circulating around here?” asked the uniform.
“Don't know, maybe they're comparing their dick sizes.” “Should be a short contest, huh?”
Martin laughed at the joke and the uniform walked away, pleased with himself.
Martin didn't know which of the drug dealers would kill the other and it didn't really matter, he thought, as long as there was only one to deal with. He couldn't stretch things to cover two gangs.
This was by far the worst time for him since he became the organizer for the payoffs. He remembered how bitter he was when he lost the lawsuit for reverse discrimination against the force. He had been passed up for promotion by black officers after twelve years. He was not the greatest cop, but he had at least been around long enough to know what he was doing.
The new black mayor was promoting green, young black cops and putting them in charge of white cops who had more experience. The black co
ps were trained by the white ones 'cause they didn't know anything.
After Martin lost the lawsuit, he was exiled into a Back-To-The-Streets Program the mayor dreamed up. He was forced to wear a uniform again, the ultimate humiliation.
He hated the department and so he got in with the cops he knew were taking money. If the system was gonna screw him, then screw the system, he thought.
After a few years, he became the point man and negotiated the deal with that asshole T-Bone, who had seemed like a smart boy. But he was like all the rest of them, stupid and unable to see past his dick and his bankroll.
“Hey Orr, Deputy Dawg wants to see you,” said another detective. Martin got up. Good old Deputy Chief Noble. Another black, do nothing Yancy bureaucrat. What could he possibly want?
Martin walked to the Deputy Chief's office and found it filled with Federal Marshals and several large men in suits who had to be FBI and IAD.
In a chair, he saw his partner, Steve Patrick, in handcuffs.
Martin didn't make a sound. He knew what was up. Someone had broken the chain. There were many cops between him and the street rookies, but it was the domino theory. One cop breaks, spills his guts and so on up the chain of command. He might not ever know who'd turned on him.
“Orris James Martin,” said one of the suits. “You're under arrest for violation of the RICO Act.”
As they read Martin his rights, an officer took Martin's gun and cuffed him. They would walk him and his partner in disgrace through the halls of 1300 to the lockup.
But before they did, Deputy Chief Noble took out his own service revolver, removed the bullets, and slammed it down hard on the desk.
23
The Battle of Saints
“Chief?”
“Yeah,” Fuller said. “You can come out. I didn't know you were cops until I heard your voice. God, I'm sorry.” Fuller was out of breath.
“What are you doing here?!” asked Tony, raising the gun. “If you didn't mean to shoot, what the fuck are you doing here?! How could you know to be here?
Tony refused to be taken in by anything at this point. Jim had followed him here, sure. But Fuller, too? Not a chance. Fuller was too good a cop to have fired without knowing who was in the room. Fuller never identified himself as a cop, he just fired. Yes, it made sense that Fuller was dirty. But how? That was the question.
''I'm still a cop, Tony. I followed the same leads you did. That's how I got here.”
“Bullshit! Let me see your weapon on the floor and we'll talk!” Tony said.
If Fuller was willing to expose himself, then he had no intention of letting Tony get out alive. No one would believe Fuller mistakenly killed a cop on an investigation which the Chief knew nothing about.
“Hey, what is this?” said Fuller from the kitchen. “You don't think
I--”
“Let me see your gun on the floor or you'll have to kill me!” Tony screamed. “Or I'll kill you.”
Tony looked at the front door. It was boarded and nailed shut. No chance of getting out that way, he thought.
Tony saw Fuller swing himself into the doorway between the kitchen and dining room and fire. One of the bullets hit the sofa, but Tony wasn't hit. The other went into the living room wall.
Tony fired a quick shot but missed. The recoil jerked the gun from his hand.
“Shit,” he whispered.
The gun had fallen only a few inches away. Tony leaned over and picked it up and pain shot into his side. He was getting light-headed. God help me, he thought. The goddamned Chief of Police-his friend, his mentor was going to kill him. Two cops shooting it out, a battle of saints.
Tony hoped someone had heard the shots, then he remembered the vacant house next to the one he was in. It was not likely, he reasoned.
“Talmadge Williams is dead,” Tony called, then he moved to the other side of the sofa. “He shot T-Bone and he tried to kill me, but he caught a bullet in the process.”
Then he heard something that he did not expect. He heard Fuller crying. He listened to make sure he was right. 'The Chief was sobbing like a child.
“There's no way out, Tony Fuller said, still crying. “This is my battleground. My life has meant nothing. After all these years, this is what I have. Service, honor, it's all bullshit.”
“Let me help you, Chief,” Tony said. “Whatever it is, I'll help you through it.”
“Too late, Tony. I'm too old. Too old and too tired for help. Every man's got secrets. Mine are gonna die here in this house. The only hope I had, I destroyed a long time ago, and tonight you killed my last son!”
Fuller fired a shot that missed. Tony was about to shoot when Fuller moved out of the doorway.
Tony was shocked again. Puller was Roberta Williams's lover and the father of Carlton and Talmadge Williams. He'd plotted with the Handyman to avenge Carlton's death.
Fuller stepped into the doorway again and fired another shot into the living room. He emptied the shells from his gun, sliding his big body along the wall, backing way from the open doorway to reload.
“Wall,” Tony said to himself, hearing the faint sound of Fuller's large frame moving against it and the spent shells hitting the floor.
Tony looked at the killer's gun. It was a .38. Powerful enough, he hoped. Tony opened the gun cylinder and saw that there were only two shots left.
Tony stood up with all his energy and shot through the wall just left of the doorway, where he thought Fuller's body was. The bullets struck, throwing pieces of plaster and wood into the air. Dust rose into a cloud that swirled in the dim dining room.
Tony heard a loud grunt and then a heavy thud. Slowly, he stumbled into the kitchen, keeping the gun out in front of him. He had no bullets left, but Fuller didn't know that.
He stepped over the corpses of T-Bone and Talmadge Williams and found Fuller was down. His head had been hit and was bleeding over the dirty floor.
Tony kicked the gun away from the Chief's corpse. He went to Jim and checked him. His partner's abdomen was wet with blood, but Jim was breathing. He tried to lift him but did not have the strength.
Tony stumbled out the back door, then into the front yard and headed for Jim's cruiser down the street. The night air was soothing, and for a moment it invigorated him.
Then he started to shake. Tony steadied himself against a ratty fence and it passed. He reached Jim's cruiser and got in.
Tony sat in the police car and held the transmitter to his face. He fumbled for the switch. The control panel faded in and out. He felt the vibrations of words in his throat.
Darkness fell upon him, and he could not remember if he had called for help or not.
24
Dead Alive
Tony’s eyes opened to a brilliant white light and he new in an instant he was dead. Everyone knew about the swirling white light at the end of the Tunnel of Eternity. But as his eyes focused, he saw that the light was made by many large fluorescent lamps over his hospital bed. He coughed and felt wires and tubes striking his arm.
“Tony!” he heard Nikki’s voice say. A second later, he saw her beautiful face tear-stained face appear over his, smothering him with kisses.
“I’m OK,” he managed to say. His throat was dry and his head pounded like a drum. He sat up and made himself into a liar as pain shot through his side.
“Take it easy,” said a small nurse. “No quick movements for a while.”
Tony eased up and hugged Nikki. He was glad to be alive and still with her. She cried and he tried to comfort her as the pain crept back.
“Is Jim OK?” Tony asked.
“Mr. Cole is down the hall and doing a lot better than you,” said the little nurse as she untangled Tony’s IV.”
“You’ve been unconscious for a day. Take it easy. The doctor will want to see you.” The nurse left.
Tony smiled and Nikki hugged him tightly. He looked over her shoulder and noticed for the first time that there were other people in his room.
Near the d
oor, he saw three huge men standing watch. His mind raced as recognition hit him.
Tony clutched Nikki protectively as Walter Nicks stepped forward.
25
Questions to the Grave
Tony and Jim ate the hospital food and it tasted good. They sat in a hospital lounge and talked with Deputy Chief Vernon Noble. Tony and Jim had been in the hospital for three days and were feeling better. Tony even managed to talk with Carol Salinsky, who demanded the exclusive he had promised. Tony assured her she would get it as soon as he was released.
Nikki's anguish had been about more than his injuries. After the police arrived at the Williams house, Tony and Jim had been placed under arrest. No one knew what had transpired except that the mayor's longtime friend and chief of police had been killed. So Yancy put his guard dogs on Tony.
When Jim came to the next day, he cleared it all up, or at least as much of it as he knew. Jim never saw Fuller shoot him. When Tony filled in the rest, the SS men disappeared.
Nikki was relieved and went home only after Tony forced her to. Yancy never called or came to the hospital. He was too busy trying to keep his reelection campaign going.
''I'm sorry, guys,” said Deputy Chief Noble. “I had to put the guards here. Mayor's orders. With Orris Martin, the police corruption thing, and this, he just wasn't taking any chances.”
“I understand,” Tony said between bites. “Martin had a lot of officers on his payroll. Martin and his partner were my men. Poor Steve Patrick. He was a good kid.”
“Screw him,” said Jim. “He was a dirty cop. We don't need any of 'em.”
“Anyway,” said Noble. ''I'm glad you understand.”
“You ought to do your homework before you go jumping to conclusions,” Jim snapped. “We were almost killed and we get treated like criminals.”
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