by Marcus Sakey
“Not tell them what, exactly?”
She gestured to the bed.
“This wasn’t just sex for me.”
“For me either. It’s just, right now, it will make things more complicated.” Especially between you and Alex. Way to go, Jenn. Nice timing.
“All right,” he’d said. “I understand.” Then he’d pulled on his pants and, threading his belt, said, “Coffee?” with forced cheer.
And now, an hour later, she sat on the comfortable couch that was supposed to be her refuge, a knit blanket over her knees, and watched the boys square off. Sometimes it sucked to be right.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Alex repeated. “You shot him on purpose?”
“You weren’t there,” Ian said. “Mitch did what he had to.”
“You’re right, I wasn’t there. I was on the floor, bleeding from the head. Wonder how that happened, genius? If I had been there—”
“What?” Mitch leaned back. His voice was calm, his manner easy. “What would you have done, Alex? There’s a drug dealer on the ground, shot once, and he can identify your best friend. So what would you have done? Asked him nicely not to hunt her down and murder her?”
“I . . .”
“Yeah.” Mitch glanced at his watch like an executive late for his next meeting. “Exactly. So how about we knock off the posturing and focus on the situation.”
She had to admit to being impressed. It was hard to reconcile this self-assured man with the wallflower she was used to. Alex looked startled too, said, “So what happened next?”
“Ian drove the rental car, and Jenn and I took the dealer’s Eldorado, this big purple boat—”
“Where are they?”
“Parked separately, a couple of blocks from here. I wiped the Caddy down. Then we came up here, called you, and started waiting. Now, your turn. What did the cops say?”
“They mostly asked questions.”
“What did you tell them?”
“A couple of men in masks came in yelling. I tried to take one of them and got socked for it. After they left, I heard shots.”
“Did they ask what you were doing there?”
“Yeah. I told them Johnny had asked me back, I didn’t know why.”
“Did they buy it?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
Mitch nodded. He had one leg crossed at the knee of the other, the foot bobbing. “Good. So it’s like we thought. No reason to tie it to us. We probably won’t hear anything more.”
Was it really that simple? Could it be? Jenn couldn’t think of a reason why not, but somehow she just didn’t believe it. Maybe it was all those Sunday School afternoons. Sunlight filtering dusty through high windows, coloring books with pictures of Jesus and the disciples. Father Mike talking to them about God. God who was always watching, saw everything they did. Every cruelty to a younger sibling, every stolen cookie.
“Not to change the subject,” Ian said, “but how much was there?”
“More than we thought,” Mitch said. “Two hundred and fifty grand.”
The words fell like a change in the weather, a soft snow that muffled sound. Ian broke into a wide grin. Alex gave a low whistle. “That’s . . . wait . . .”
“Sixty-two thousand, five hundred each,” Ian said. “Not bad for a night’s work.” He reached for one of the bags, split the top open. Stuck his face in and inhaled hard. “Goddamn, that’s good.”
“Yeah, well, you’re going to have lots of time to smell it,” Mitch said. “We can’t spend it.”
“What do you mean?”
“We can’t. Not yet.”
“Why?”
Mitch sighed. “Would you think for half a second? This was supposed to be untraceable. Johnny wouldn’t even have gone to the cops. He couldn’t afford to. But now there’s a body.”
“So?” Ian’s eyes were wide. “What does that matter?”
“It matters because everything is more complicated. We have to cut every tie between us and the robbery. Dump the clothes, the masks, especially the guns. Return the rental. Get rid of the Cadillac. And go on living our lives just exactly as before. Which means that we have to pretend that money doesn’t exist. Take it home and hide it somewhere.”
They’d talked about that this morning, as they’d broken the stacks up. Mitch had wanted to get a safe-deposit box, something secure, and lock it all away. But she’d pointed out that there was no way the others would go for just one of them having a key. And if all four of them were on record at a bank for a safe-deposit box? Seemed like a big clue.
He’d yielded, but she could tell he wasn’t happy about it. She couldn’t blame him, watching Ian cradle the Ziploc like a favorite teddy bear. “For how long?”
“Probably just a couple of months.”
“No.” Alex shook his head. “No way. We did this because we needed the money. I can’t wait—”
“You have to. Or else you can’t take your share now.”
“Who says?”
Mitch stood up. “I do.”
Oh shit. Jenn supposed on some primal level this should have gotten her excited, strong men fighting for dominance, but instead she just felt tired. Tired of the way they talked and interacted, the way everything was a contest. Tired of the whole idea of men. She was filled with a sudden regret for having slept with either of them.
“I need that money,” Ian said. “I mean, I really need—”
“Mitch, listen, I understand what you’re doing, but—”
“This was your stupid plan in the first place, and now look—”
“Shut. Up.” Jenn made her voice a whip. “All of you.” It was the first time she’d spoken in the last minutes, and the harshness cut the air. The boys wore sheepish caught-by-Mom looks. “Jesus Christ. What’s wrong with you? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in serious trouble right now. Would you stop it with the alpha-male nonsense? Next step, one of you shits in his hand and throws it.”
Ian started to argue, but she bulldozed him. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Alex, you’re going to get rid of the guns. Wipe them off and throw them in the river or a storm drain or something. Ian, return the rental car. Along the way, take all of the clothes to a Dumpster across town. Mitch and I will take care of the spare car.”
“But—”
“No buts. We’ll get it washed and cleaned, and then take it somewhere to get stolen.”
“Why the two of you?”
“Because one of us will need to follow in another car. In the meantime, do not spend a dime of your share. Mitch is right. We don’t know the situation yet. If the cops get on us, or Johnny, or friends of whoever got shot last night, we’re going to need it.”
“For what?” Ian asked.
“Maybe just to stay alive.” Mitch put one hand on Alex’s shoulder, the other on Ian’s. “Guys, listen. I know this isn’t what we planned. But neither was last night. This isn’t a game. If we get caught, we’re going to jail. And that’s only if the police catch us. If it’s Johnny, or someone else?” He blew a breath.
“We’re in this together,” Jenn said. “We get through it together or we go down together. That’s the only way. OK?”
There was a long silence. Ian rubbed his nostrils between thumb and forefinger, and shuffled his feet on her rug. Alex looked like he was thinking of bolting out the door with one of the bags.
“OK?” she asked again.
“Fine,” Ian said, heaving a sigh. Alex only nodded. Neither of them would look at her.
And all of a sudden she had the strongest feeling they were fucked.
CHAPTER 17
“YOU DIPSHITS KNOW WHO I AM? You’re in a world of hurt for this.”
Victor heard the voice through the doorway and paused to listen.
“You think I’m just some restaurant owner you can jack off the street and shake down? Not gonna happen, kid. I’m connected all the way up. I’m done, you’re going to regret waking up this morning.”
The wo
rds were right, but the tone rang false to Victor. One of the things that made him good at his work was a nose for fear, and through the bluster, Mr. Loverin was scared.
Good.
The ten-flight climb had Victor winded, and he took a moment to calm his breathing. Then he fastened the top button of his jacket, shot his cuffs, and walked through the open doorway.
The space would one day be suites, another anonymous gray Chicago office building. But now it was an empty room half a city block in length, sitting vacant while the owner wrestled the city council over permits. Coils of wiring hung from exposed girders. The wind whipped through open walls. Dawn was just breaking in the east, painting the sky with a blood-red brush.
Johnny Love sat in a chair at the far end, ten feet from the edge. His hands were cuffed behind him, and a black hood covered his face. Victor smiled. Nice touch.
Slowly, conscious of the theatre of the thing, Victor began to walk over, his dress shoes ringing loud on the cement. The two men standing near Johnny straightened, nodded at him. Ex-Army guys. Real money bred an efficiency that love of the flag sometimes didn’t. Especially after getting stop-lossed once or twice.
“Who’s there? What the fuck is this?”
Victor stood for a moment, let the guy imagine the worst. Then he nodded, and one of his soldiers snapped the hood off.
“What the fu—” Johnny’s mouth froze open, and his eyes went wide. “You.”
“Me.”
“I was going to call you.”
“Oh? When?”
“I was on my way when these geniuses grabbed me.”
“But you were robbed last night.”
His eyes darted. “How did you—yeah, I was. But I was taking care of it. I have calls in, people out . . .”
“Calls.” Victor nodded. “People.”
“What is this, anyway? We’re partners, for Christ’s sake.” Trying to recover his bluster.
“Stand up, Johnny.”
“What?”
“Stand up.”
Moving like he was afraid he was going to be knocked down again, Johnny rose. Victor gestured, and one of his men moved the chair. “Now. Here are the rules.”
“Rules?”
“Don’t worry, they’re simple. I’m going to ask you questions. Every time I don’t like your answer, I’m going to take a step forward. And you”—Victor gestured—“you’re going to take a step back.”
“What are you . . . ?” Johnny spun, saw the open air and the hundred-foot plummet to broken ground behind him. His skin visibly paled as he measured the distance. “No, hey, listen—”
“Where’s my merchandise?”
“I—I don’t know, really, I don’t know.”
Victor took a step forward. Johnny stared at him. “I’m not going to—are you crazy?”
Victor sighed, glanced at one of the men. The soldier started forward, and Johnny took a hurried step back. “OK, OK.”
“Good. Now. I’m curious. When was the last time you were robbed?”
“I’ve never—never.”
“But you were last night.”
“Yes. They came in wearing masks, waving guns, they—”
“Don’t you find it a little unusual that you were robbed for the very first time on the one occasion we’re doing serious business?”
“It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t.”
Victor took a step forward, his eyes locked on Johnny’s. After a moment’s hesitation, the fat man took a step back. A gust of wind cut through the floor with a reek of garbage and exhaust.
“Where is what I want?”
“They must have taken it.”
“By ‘they’ you mean the men who robbed you, for the first time you’ve ever been robbed, on the exact night that you were getting my merchandise? Merchandise for which I graciously, and in violation of my general principles, supplied part of the purchase price?” He cocked his head. “Do you see my concern?”
“Yeah, totally, but—”
Victor took a step forward.
“Hey, no, listen.” Johnny glanced behind him, his eyes measuring the half-dozen feet between him and the edge. “I’ll get you your money back. Right away. I know how this looks, but it’s not that. I would never do that. Do you think I’m stupid?”
“I think you owe me a step. If you make me take it from you, it might be more than one.”
Trembling, the man moved back a scant six inches.
“Johnny.”
He winced and went another foot.
“That’s better. Now. I’m afraid that the money isn’t my only concern right now. I want the materials you promised. I have some gentlemen very eager to take delivery. And I have a reputation to protect. When I say that I have something for sale, I need to deliver. Otherwise, people don’t trust me anymore. And it’s important that people believe every word I say.” Victor curled his fingernails in to look at them. “You, for instance. Do you believe me?”
“Yes.”
“Good. That’s good. Because you have three steps left, and that last one’s a doozy.”
“I swear, I didn’t say anything about you to the police.”
“I know you didn’t, Johnny. I’ve read the report.” He let the words sink in. “I want to know what you think happened.”
“I—” He paused. “Maybe it was an inside job.”
“Did you tell someone?”
“No, of course not. I had a bartender working as security, but no way it’s him. He’s a civilian, kind of a pussy. And he didn’t know what was going on.”
“Then how could it have been an inside job?”
“Maybe someone on your end found out about it. No disrespect,” Johnny added quickly. “Just that the guys who came in, they were pros. And that would explain the timing.”
Victor smiled. “Do you think so?”
“I . . . maybe.” The man put his hand to his forehead, his eyes widening. “Wait a second. Bennett.”
“Who?”
“Bennett! The guy who scored this stuff in the first place. What if he’s burning us?”
“Go on.”
“He said he wasn’t going to come himself, right? Told me in advance that he was going to send someone to bring me the stuff and take the money. A kid named David Crooch.”
“The body in the alley.”
“Right, right. What if Bennett also sent the guys to rob me, and told them to kill Crooch? That way it looks like he got burned too. Motherfucker!” Johnny straightened. “He ripped us both off, partner.”
“So Bennett set up the meet as a con. He never intended to give us the merchandise. It might not even exist.”
“Exactly. Exactly.” The man hopeful now, his eyes wide. “Sneaky fuck.”
“Of course, you could be doing the same thing.”
“Huh?”
“For all I know, this Bennett doesn’t exist. Maybe you made him up, staged the robbery, and had Crooch killed in the alley.”
“No, I would never—” He shook his head violently.
“Or maybe Bennett does exist, and you decided to burn us both. Keep the money, keep the goods.”
“No, I swear—”
“See, here’s the thing, Johnny. I don’t care. I really don’t. I just want what I paid for, because I made deals based on your word. And I’m holding you responsible.”
“Wait—”
“So you need to understand something.” Victor took a step, and Johnny followed suit, trembling. “Two more steps, that’s all you’ve got. I will walk you right off the edge of this building. And you will do it, staring me in the eyes the whole time. You will walk yourself right out of life. Because you can imagine what will happen to you if you don’t. Because you believe every word I say.” He took another step, and Johnny did too. “Right?”
“Yes!” The man stood six inches from the edge, hands still cuffed, bent slightly forward as though afraid his balance would betray him. “But I swear to God, I didn’t have anyth
ing to do with this. I would have come to you right away—I should have come to you right away. I was just trying to handle it on my own. I’ll get you the stuff, somehow, oh Jesus, I don’t want to, please don’t make me.” There was a sharp tang to the air, and the front of Johnny’s track pants darkened. “I’ll get it for you!”
“How?”
“I’ll find Bennett. If he didn’t fuck me, I’ll find the people that did. I swear, I swear I will. I swear on my mother.”
“Your mother, who lives in that lovely converted bungalow in Jefferson Park?”
The man’s head snapped straight up. His face was nothing but eyes and panic.
“You wanted to be big-league, Johnny. Welcome. We play a rougher game.”
“I will get it for you. I promise.” His voice coming from a ragged place people liked to pretend didn’t exist.
Victor stared him in the face. Lifted his foot, watched Johnny flinch. Then he set it back down and broke into a smile. “OK.” He gestured to his men. They flanked Johnny, one standing ready while the other uncuffed him. The man made a sobbing sound, took a quick stride away from oblivion.
“First,” Victor said, “I want to talk to Bennett. Today. Second. You put the word out to everyone that you were robbed. I don’t care what it does to your reputation. Every pimp, every drug dealer, every bookie. Put money on it. Your own, of course. Someone out there knows something. I want to know it too.”
“Yes. Yes. No problem.” His hands shook as he rubbed at his wrists.
“You can go.”
The man sprinted for the exit. Victor let him almost make it before he said, “Oh, and, Johnny?”
He froze. Victor could see the animal part of the man wanting to continue. Slowly, slowly he turned around. “Yes?”
“From now on, let’s keep the lines of communication open, OK? I find business transactions run much more smoothly that way.”
“Uhh . . . yeah. Sure. I’ll tell you the moment I hear anything.”
“Good. That’s all.” Victor turned away, walked to the edge of the building. He stood with his toes hanging off, hands clasped behind his back. Chicago spread out in front of him, a wave of tall buildings breaking into a dark froth of two-flats and trees that extended all the way to the rising sun. Clean morning wind teased at his suit jacket. He took a deep breath, tasted the air.
