Chuck Freadhoff - Free Booze Tonight

by Chuck Freadhoff

  I followed Toughie and Jimmy back into the room. Delilah had moved to the edge of the couch. James was at the door.

  “Shaq’s other friends?” I asked him.

  “They left.”

  “Okay,” Toughie said. “Let’s go.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “What the hell just happened?”

  Delilah rolled her eyes. “The fat lady just sang.”

  “That’s why you asked me if I thought you were fat?”

  “Well, I wasn’t asking about my weight, although you did give the right answer.”

  “You mean you knew Toughie was going to get rid of Royal Rob?”

  “Well, duh.”

  Toughie touched me on the shoulder. “Look, Spare Parts, after you explained the dilemma to me, I called Vincent the Hammer and told him what Royal Rob had in mind. He told me to handle it and bring Delilah home. But I needed your help to get Delilah to go back to L.A.”

  I glanced at the balcony and back to Toughie. “But won’t Royal Rob, ah … .”

  She shook her head. “Nah. No one messes with Vincent the Hammer. No one.”

  “But why didn’t you tell me?”

  Toughie laughed. Delilah giggled. The Roo brothers smirked.

  “Spare Parts, you’re the worst liar I’ve ever met and you’re an even worse con man. If you’d known the truth, you’d have screwed it up.”

  I looked at Delilah. “When did you know Toughie was going to dispatch Royal Rob?”

  “She told me last night.”

  “Yeah,” Toughie said. “We had to wait until Royal Rob was alone. That’s why we didn’t come up last night. He, ah, he had company.” She picked a black bra off the top of the couch — looked like triple D cups to me — with her finger tips, dropped it on the floor and nudged it aside with her toe like someone moving a couple of live howitzer shells out of the way.

  “Wow, this is great,” I said. “Everything’s taken care of.”

  “Not quite,” Toughie said.

  “Yeah,” Delilah said, “All you have to do is make me a star. Remember? You promised. One gig and I’ll be on my way. I talked Daddy into giving you a whole week.”

  “Oh great,” I said. A whole week? I thought. “Not a problem,” I said. “I’ve got it covered.” How the hell was I going to do that in a week? Still, I was so relieved that I’d have agreed to convert the pope to a Pentecostal preacher.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Toughie said.

  Jimmy and James headed for the door, followed by Delilah. I gestured for Toughie to go ahead and she smiled.

  “This should be fun I haven’t been to L.A. in years.”

  “You’re coming, too?” I asked.

  “Jimmy and James need a break. Plus you need a lot of adult supervision.”

  I considered the task ahead. I had one week to pluck a musical empire out of thin air. Sure, Delilah could sing, but a lot of people can sing. Plus I didn’t have a band and I’d used up almost every favor anybody owed me just to put on the rehearsal. I didn’t have any money and wasn’t sure Grassman Guzman would let me use the bar again.

  I glanced through the sliding doors to the shimmering desert and the yucca trees Royal Rob had offered me as a final resting place. Sometimes, second prize is the better alternative.

  “Great. Let’s hit the road,” I said and headed for the door.

  Chapter 47

  Toughie and Delilah flew to L.A., but since I was broke and Vincent the Hammer wouldn’t buy me a ticket, I rode in the Continental with Jimmy and James.

  The AC was humming quietly and that big ride was floating down the highway, nothing but drifting sand and dead cacti as far as the eye could see, Jimmy at the wheel and James riding shotgun. I was in the middle of the backseat and leaned forward, dead center between them.

  “So, thanks for helping with Royal Rob, that guy’s a real jerk,” I said, just trying to make a little conversation. Jimmy and James sat like steroid-riddled garden gnomes, unmoving, staring straight ahead. I checked the mirror, hoping to catch their eyes. As always, they wore sunglasses.

  “It’s a road trip, we should have some music,” I tried again.

  “We got CDs,” Jimmy said.

  “Show tunes,” James said.

  “Nah, I’m good,” I said. “Silence works for me. Maybe I’ll give a little thought to Saturday night.”

  I sprawled across the seat, watched the desert float past, and counted saguaros, yuccas, and dust devils for a while. I focused on the band dilemma first, and after a time, I started to develop an idea. Sure, it would take a little trickery and some outright blackmail, but it just might work, I thought.

  In the past, I’d refrained from blackmail, preferring to use my ability to charm and persuade. That and a few outright lies. But, as Toughie had pointed out back in Royal Rob’s suite, my track record as a salesman, liar, and con man didn’t inspire much confidence.

  I had to admit, Toughie had a point. Plus this time was different. This time I was dealing with a mob boss who had Carpets R Us on speed dial. Yup, I wasn’t too worried about being subtle, just succeeding.

  The way I saw things, I was facing the classic scalpel/chainsaw tradeoff. Sure, the scalpel might scare someone, but a fired up chainsaw really gets their attention. And considering I was going to be asking a law abiding, mid-level cog in a big bureaucracy to commit a couple of misdemeanors and maybe a felony or two, I figured the chainsaw approach would be the way to go.

  I glanced in the rear view mirror and caught myself smiling. Maybe I really could pull this off.

  A cell phone rang – the ringtone was Andy Williams doing Born Free – and James answered. I assumed it was Vincent the Hammer checking in.

  “James.” He paused. “Yes.”

  He turned and handed the phone over the seat to me. My mood brightened. Maybe it was Delilah calling to tell me again that she thought I was cute?

  “Hi there,” I said trying my best for a Barry White seductive tone.

  “Joey, it’s your grandmother. Act your age. Where are you?”

  “Oh, hi, Gradma, I’m ah … I’m taking a drive with some friends. How did you know how to reach me?”

  “Well, no thanks to you. You just drop out sight, no thought to anyone but yourself. When are you going to visit me again?”

  “I’ve been kind of busy, but I’ll get by real soon. I promise.”

  “Well, I called that bail bondsman, if you must know.”

  “What?”

  “It’s how I found you. He said one of those men in the suits would know where you were. He gave me this number. Those fellows seemed nice, but a bit taciturn.”

  Taciturn? They’d make Tut look talkative.

  “I’ll get by as soon as I can. I always enjoy visiting you.”

  “Joseph, you are a very bad liar.”

  “So I’ve been told.”

  “Well, you need to call your bondsman. He said he’s not taking any chances on anyone in our family because you ran away.”

  “I didn’t run away, I just took a detour.”

  “Detour? That’s what Dorothy did and she ended up hob nobbing with a bunch of munchkins.”

  I started to tell her, but stopped. She already thought I was a really bad liar so I knew she’d never believe me.

  “We’re going to protest at the Federal Building and I may get arrested,” she went on. “You need to talk to him. I can’t spend another night in the slammer.”

  Ethel had done a lot of jail overnights during the sixties. She’d been a staple at all the love-ins, sit-ins and be-ins around L.A. for years. Once in a while I still catch her mumbling, “hell no, we won’t go.” She tells me it was a wild time, but I’m not sure she remembers much of it.

  “Not a problem,” I said. “I’ll straighten everything out before the end of the day. When is this big protest?”

  “Saturday.”

  “That’s great, plenty of time. I’ll talk to Hector the bail bondsman.”

  “See that
you do, and come visit your grandmother.”

  I said goodbye, handed the phone back to James, and leaned my head against the seat. Well, I thought, at least I wouldn’t have to worry about Ethel on Saturday.

  One of my problems in life is not being able to think a couple of moves ahead. Then again, if I’d known what Ethel was going to do, I might have screwed up the whole thing.

  Chapter 48

  Hakim the base player came through the door at Denny’s about an hour after I’d called him. Jimmy and James were side by side in the next booth keeping an eye on me. Ralph sat across from them, his back to me, watching the door.

  I’d called Ralph for moral support as much as anything. After spending time with Toughie Basoon and the Roo brothers, I figured it would be nice to have someone around who didn’t call me Door Stop or look at me like I was dead meat.

  I’d borrowed James’ cell phone and called Hakim from the car when we were close to L.A. At first Hakim had been reluctant to meet given the last time he saw me I was running from a fire, a bunch of neo Nazi skinhead bikers, and the Roo brothers. I suggested a public, a non-threatening place.

  “Like where, the zoo?” he’d said.

  “How about a restaurant?” I replied and suggested Denny’s. You might not care much for the food, but projectile vomiting is rare.

  Hakim stopped at the “Wait to be Seated” sign and scanned the restaurant, his eyes pausing on Ralph and the Roo twins, before coming to the booth. He was dressed in jeans, a t-shirt, and Converse sneakers, a messenger bag slung over his shoulder.

  He glanced at the Roo boys in the next booth and back to me. “I’m surprised you’re still alive.”

  “I like to surpass expectations,” I said.

  Hakim slid into the booth across from me and folded his hands on the table. “Well, I never expected to see you again. So, what’s this about?”

  “First, I gotta tell you, you’re a really good musician.”

  “Thanks.” He glanced around the restaurant again, still not fully convinced that I had his musical talent in mind.

  “I’ll bet you probably know some other guys who can really play, too. Right?” I said.

  “I know a few, sure. Why?”

  “I’m putting together a gig for this Saturday night and … .”

  “No.”

  I held up my hands, palms out. “Just give me a minute.”

  “No. Last time I could have been killed by those bikers, or burned alive by a drum machine or crushed by that Biggie Bruce dude with the banjo. So, no.”

  “Two minutes. It’ll change your life.”

  “Change my life? That’s what the doctor told my dad before he put in those hair plugs.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “My dad’s bald. He decided to get some new hair and went for the plugs. Now he’s got dots all over his head. Looks like a bird splattered him through a cheesecloth.”

  “I can see how that might be tough.”

  “My mom hasn’t spoken to him in a month.”

  “So it wasn’t a total waste.”

  He started to laugh but caught himself. He stared at his folded hands for a moment before raising his eyes again. “I don’t care how much you’re paying, I’m not interested.”

  “I’m not paying anything.”

  When you’re trying to entice someone to help you commit a felony, it’s a good idea to keep them at least a little off balance.

  Hakim glanced at the Roo brothers again. “Not paying? Man, you are stupid,” he said. “I can’t believe they didn’t kill you, clean up the world’s gene pool a bit.” He slid out of the booth and stood next to it.

  “What college do you want to go to?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Pick one.”

  He turned his head slightly and eyed me suspiciously. “Why?”

  “I can make it happen.”

  He started to laugh but saw that I was serious. “No way.”

  “Look, you’re a smart kid, right? You’d probably do just fine in any university in the country.”

  “Oh sure, I can do the work. I just can’t get in. I’ve been suspended twice and I never go to class.”

  “We’ll keep that our little secret.”

  He cocked his head, considering the offer. He stepped aside as a waitress stopped at the edge of the booth. I shook my head and she turned to Ralph and the Roo boys. Ralph ordered a lumberjack special with extra syrup. The Roo twins asked for oatmeal with raisins and brown sugar.

  Hakim slid back into the booth opposite me.

  “Of course,” I said. “I’m going to need more than a base player. I’ll need a drummer and lead guitar and … .

  “You want me to provide the whole band?”

  “Sound system, too. Free.”

  “No way, that’s crazy.”

  “Hey, college isn’t cheap.”

  He pursed his lips. I could tell he was figuring the angles. “Any college?”

  “I’ll guarantee you the grades and recommendations. After that, it’s up to you?

  “SATs?”

  I thought about it for a moment, running through the list of people who owed me a favor.

  “I can take care of that, too,” I said. “But you throw in a rehearsal with the whole band.”

  He furrowed his brow, looked out the window for a few seconds, and turned back. He smiled. “Done.”

  “Okay, I’m going to need some information to make this work.”

  “Like what?”

  I told him what I needed and Hakim chuckled. “Oh hey, this is going to be way fun.” He slid his messenger bag across the booth, took out a laptop, and started typing. “This will take a minute or two.”

  While Hakim typed, I went to the Roo brothers’ booth and borrowed a pen from James. I bummed some paper from the waitress and slid back into the booth just as Hakim looked up.

  “You want to start with the home address and phone number?” he asked.

  “And anything else you can tell me. I always like to increase my chances of success.”

  Hakim typed for a moment longer, looked up, and smiled. “Looks like the union is keeping a file on him. You want it?”

  “Of course. I’ve always been a big believer in worker solidarity.”

  Chapter 49

  I was studying the notes I’d made at Denny’s when Agent Viola of the IRS walked into the bar.

  The Roo brothers had dropped me off a few minutes earlier and I’d used a hidden key to let myself in. The Roo brothers waddled out and Toughie was supposed to show up and babysit me. I was expecting her any minute, so when the front door opened I didn’t pay attention. Then I heard the unmistakable click of spike heels on cement. Toughie is more the steel-toed boot type. I looked up.

  Agent Viola was wearing black slacks that were tighter than most tattoos, a wide belt, and a low cut white silk blouse. She leaned against the bar and tapped her long, red nails.

  “I was here last Saturday,” she said.

  “Saturday?”

  “You told me the place was going to be packed, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. We were closed. Technical difficulties.”

  “I was all alone.”

  “Tough to draw a crowd when the place is closed.”

  I thought of all the fliers Irving the ink-stained wretch and Ken from Kinkos had passed out to drum up business for Delilah and the Samsons. Apparently the fliers hadn’t worked. I’d have to do better this Saturday if I wanted draw a crowd and stay alive. Then another problem occurred to me. I’d have to talk Grassman into letting me use the bar for another gig. I wasn’t confident. After all, the last time I was here, I’d almost burned the place down and robbed the register.

  “You know, Joey,” Agent Viola said, “It’s no fun for a girl to spend Saturday night alone.”

  She leaned a little closer. The low neck dipped a little lower. I swallowed hard and tried to keep my eyes above her throat. It was tough. There was a certain gravitational pull the
re, sort of like the moon and the tides.

  Still, peeking down the blouse of a law enforcement officer who could send me to prison for five years didn’t seem appropriate. I glanced at Hakim’s notes again just to give my eyes a destination. She leaned back.

  “Oh, Joey, no one understands me. I really just want to help people see that there’s a better way. You don’t have to live a life of crime.” She sighed. “I guess I really want to rescue people.”

  Talk about mixed signals. It was like having a Playboy centerfold tell you her greatest fantasy is to join the Salvation Army.

  Agent Viola straightened up and sniffed the air. “Is that smoke I smell.”

  “Like I said, we had some minor technical difficulties.”

  The fact was the place smelled like a slow-roasted Nike with a hint of sour milk on the side. I’d have to get rid of that odor before Delilah’s gig. Maybe I could borrow the Roo brothers’ cologne.

  “Have you considered my offer about Mr. Guzman,” Viola said, the business tone back in her voice.

  “I’ve had a few things on my mind lately,” I said thinking of homicidal dwarves, mad scientists, and pissed-off elephants. “We’ll have all the technical difficulties ironed out by Saturday. Come back then, this place will be standing room only. You’ll see it’s a legitimate business.”

  “Saturday night? You’re sure this time?”

  “I’d bet my life on it,” I said. In truth, Vincent the Hammer was the one betting my life on it but I didn’t see any reason to quibble over details.

  “Okay, this is your last chance, Joey. You’re going to have to choose. Cooperate or … five years is a long time.”

  “Ah, five years, something to aspire to,” I said.

  She frowned.

  “I’ll keep it in mind,” I said.

  Agent Viola headed toward the door and Ralph came from the storage room carrying a couple of bottles of beer. She paused and looked over her shoulder.

  “Mr. Guzman?” she said eyeing Ralph and I understood for the first time that Agent Viola had never even seen Grassman.

  Ralph stopped and stared. I was pretty sure he wasn’t thinking about the Salvation Army.