by Jason Dean
‘Shout and you bleed,’ Mickey said. ‘Understand?’
‘I won’t shout,’ Bishop said.
The buzzing sound erupted again. For much longer this time. Bishop silently thanked whoever it was. Maybe a courier. Or the landlord, if they were renting this place. But now he knew he had three of them to deal with. He just didn’t know how. Still keeping his wrists together, Bishop used his right hand to carefully place the zip tie in his back pocket. He gripped the multi-tool in his left so the little saw protruded out from between his index and middle fingers. Not much of a weapon, but better than nothing.
Jeff was walking over to the other door. He stood to one side of the doorframe, trying to listen. Mickey held the knife firm against Bishop’s neck, but kept his eyes on Jeff.
Bishop slowly turned his head. Lisa’s bloodshot eyes stared back at him.
He mouthed the words bang bang bang and looked pointedly at the floor behind her chair. Trying to get the message across that she should get out of the way once the shit hit the fan. He went through the mime a second time and raised his eyebrows. Lisa nodded once. He forced a smile and hoped she really had understood. The thought of her being killed or seriously wounded because of him was unimaginable.
All he could do now was wait. The moment was coming.
Bishop knew Mickey was right-handed, so his gun would be under his left shoulder. He also knew this Mal would come by and let them know when the coast was clear. That minor distraction would have to be enough. Bishop controlled his breathing and calmed his mind. He flexed and unflexed his hands to get the blood circulating again. He also felt his heartbeat begin to slow the way it always did just before a major skirmish. He’d never understood why that happened, but he was always grateful when it did.
Seconds passed in silence. The seconds turned into a minute.
There was a knock at the door. The blade at Bishop’s neck dug in a little more. Bishop felt a rivulet of blood tickle his skin as it ran down his neck.
Jeff said, ‘Yeah?’
‘It’s me,’ a muffled voice said. ‘Mal. Okay to come in?’
‘Sure, come on in,’ Jeff said.
The handle turned. As the door began to open, Bishop moved.
He lowered his left shoulder, pulling his head away from the blade. At the same time he swung his left hand upwards towards Mickey’s face. Mickey had time to shout ‘Hey’ and then the blunt saw entered his left cheek, just below the eye. Bishop held on and yanked downwards, tearing the skin apart.
Mickey screamed and brought his free hand to his ruined face. Blood was pouring onto the floor. Bishop dived out of the way as Mickey jabbed at him with the knife. He rolled and got to his feet in a single movement. A barrage of shots was coming from the other side of the room. Bishop didn’t turn to look. He shouted, ‘Down, Lisa,’ and saw she was already on the floor.
He ran forward, knocked Mickey’s knife hand out of the way and reached for his holster. He grabbed the handle of the revolver and pulled it out, waiting for the bullets to hit him. There was a sudden stinging sensation in his left side. He ignored it, stuck the barrel under Mickey’s chin and pulled the trigger. There was a sound of thunder and the back of Fatboy’s head exploded. Blood and brain matter shot into the air and the body went limp.
Bishop let the corpse drop to the floor and turned with the .357, wondering why the gunfire had stopped.
He saw Jeff leaning against the wall twenty feet away. He’d already pulled a spare magazine from his jacket pocket and was about to insert it into the grip of the Glock. A big man was lying on the floor half in and half out of the doorway. His chest was a blood-soaked mess. And underneath him was another man. A black man. Bishop’s eyes widened when he recognized Kidanu. There was a gun lying on the floor, inches from his hand. Bishop couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive.
Jeff rammed the magazine home and pointed his Glock at Kidanu’s head.
Bishop aimed the .357 and shouted, ‘Jeff, look out.’ The man turned his head at the sound of his name and Bishop pulled the trigger. The blast echoed through the room and a red rose appeared above Jeff’s collarbone. As he fell back against the wall from the impact, he aimed his own gun in Bishop’s general direction and got two shots off. Bishop didn’t even bother ducking. The guy’s aim was way off. Bishop fired again and got Jeff in the left cheek. Blood erupted from the man’s face and Bishop fired another shot into the same area. Then what was left of Jeff just slowly slid to the floor, his life’s blood smearing the wall behind him.
Bishop ran over to Lisa. She was lying on her side, facing away from the rest of the room. Bishop’s heart sank as he knelt down beside her. Her eyes were shut and she wasn’t moving. He quickly checked her body for wounds, but saw none. Then he placed his fingers against her carotid artery, and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt a pulse. A beautiful, healthy pulse. The kid had passed out, that was all. Bishop could only hope she’d missed seeing her favourite uncle blow Mickey’s brains out.
He got up and ran over to the doorway. Kidanu was still alive, too. He was using one hand to push the dead man off his chest. Bishop reached down and helped. Kidanu’s other arm was bleeding from a wound just below the shoulder.
‘That man is heavy,’ Kidanu said.
‘How bad is it?’
‘Just a flesh wound. The bullet went straight through.’ Kidanu carefully raised himself to a sitting position and said, ‘Was that Lisa I saw before?’
‘Yeah. The bastards snatched her in order to get me to talk. She passed out while all this happened, but she’s unharmed.’
‘That is good. Somebody of her age should not see this.’ Kidanu frowned at Bishop’s mid-section and said, ‘You are bleeding, also.’
Bishop looked down at himself. Kidanu was right. The left side of his black shirt was wet with blood and he felt a dull throbbing in that side. The pain would come soon. He placed his hand against the wound and could tell it hadn’t been caused by a stray bullet. Mickey must have got a good one in with the knife before he died. It didn’t feel as though it had gone too deep, but he still needed to plug the leak.
‘Let’s see what kind of supplies they got around here,’ he said.
SEVENTY-TWO
Bishop winced and placed another strip of tape over the wound. He’d found some duct tape in the very basic kitchen area located at the rear of the warehouse. The blood had entered the clotting stage and he was hoping the tape would keep the wound from opening again.
He and Kidanu were in one of the other rooms. There were six in total, including the kitchen. Kidanu had told him the warehouse was in a small industrial park in an out-of-the-way section of Hillside, New Jersey, not far from the Garden State Parkway and I-78 interchange. And that most of the neighbouring buildings were vacant.
And there had been four goons, not three. Kidanu had spotted a man sitting in a car by the side of the warehouse when he’d driven by. Kidanu had used him to get inside, clubbed him unconscious, then used Mal as a shield to access the room where they were holding Bishop. Once inside, Jeff had emptied a whole magazine into Mal’s chest as Kidanu returned fire. Kidanu hadn’t been successful, and the dead man had eventually fallen back on top of him, trapping him with his weight. Bishop, busy with Mickey, had missed that part of it, although he’d brought it to a satisfactory conclusion.
The fourth man was in the front reception room now, unconscious, his feet and hands bound with spare zip ties. Lisa was lying a few feet away from Bishop. She was still unconscious, too. For which he was extremely grateful. The less she saw and remembered of this place, the better. He’d already removed the cuffs and the tape from her mouth, and was happy just to study her peaceful, sleeping form for a few moments.
‘She should be fine,’ Kidanu said. He was calmly tying a handkerchief around his injured arm. ‘Children adapt better than most adults in these kinds of situations.’
‘I sure hope so.’ Bishop looked up at Kidanu and said, ‘You still haven’t told me how you fo
und me in the first place.’
Kidanu shrugged. ‘We placed a tracking device in your phone at the embassy. Very discreet, but it only has a fifteen-mile radius so it took me a while to pinpoint your exact location on my phone.’
‘That’s something else I owe you for, isn’t it? Thanks, Kidanu. I mean that. Did you manage to talk to Bekele?’
Kidanu nodded. ‘Just before I returned to the gas station. It sounded like he was at the airport. Possibly waiting for a visiting official. Anyway, he said he would have preferred more progress, but he is also a patient man. Sometimes.’
‘So he’s happy for you to stay the course?’
‘He left it to my own judgement.’
‘And?’
‘I can be patient also. So what do we do with the three bodies in the next room?’
‘Do? Nothing. Let them rot.’
‘But do you not think . . .’
Bishop held up a hand. He could hear that Nirvana track again, coming through the wall. He stood up and went next door. He walked over to Jeff’s body, reached into his jacket and pulled out the phone. The caller was Mr K. It had only been twenty minutes. Klyce must have simply got tired of waiting.
Bishop thought back to Jeff’s speech patterns, and said a few random words until he felt he had the pitch right. He also practised using a few broad A’s until he judged he had the slight Bostonian accent down. Then he took the call.
‘Where have you been?’ Klyce said. ‘It’s been half an hour.’
‘Tidying up,’ Bishop said in his altered voice. Best to keep his responses short.
‘Good. Any problems?’
‘None.’
‘Fine. You know what to do next. Harry will be locking up the yard at six, so make sure you go there after then. I don’t want any of the employees seeing you. Mickey should have the keys. I’d tell you to wait for me – you know I like to operate that crusher myself – but I need to stick around for an important meeting later I hadn’t counted on. And all because of this shit.’ He sighed. ‘Plus it’s always better with live specimens, anyway. Right, Jeff?’
‘Right, Mr K.’
‘Now when you’re finished, grab yourselves something to eat. But no alcohol. Not even beer. And I want you all back at the office no later than eleven, is that clear?’
‘Right,’ Bishop said, but the line was dead. Klyce had already hung up.
Bishop switched off the phone, wiped his prints from it and put it back in Jeff’s pocket. That mention of ‘the yard’ again. What the hell was that? A dumping ground for anybody who displeased Klyce? The crusher seemed to suggest an auto junkyard. But if so, which one? And that meeting later. Bishop very much needed to be a fly on the wall for that one.
He checked Jeff’s pockets and found his wallet. He flicked through the business cards, but saw nothing of any use. He replaced the wallet, removed a spare magazine from another pocket, then picked up his Glock and went over to Mickey. In the guy’s billfold he found two dog-eared business cards. The first was from a brothel in Storey County, Nevada. He hit paydirt with the other one. The card had the words First Choice Auto Salvage at the top in large capitals. It was located at Leesville Avenue in Rahway, New Jersey. Which was about seven or eight miles south of Hillside. Bishop memorized the address and replaced the card in the billfold, and put the billfold back in Mickey’s pocket. He patted the guy’s pants pockets, felt some keys in the left side and pulled them out.
Back in the other room, Bishop picked up the weapons Kidanu had taken from the other two on top. Another Glock 17, a Smith & Wesson M&P .45 Compact, and two spare magazines. He carried his haul into the reception room, past the unconscious man on the floor, and opened the front door.
It was almost six and starting to get dark outside. The road out front was empty of traffic. He could see the three warehouses directly opposite all had large For Rent signs on the gates. No vehicles in any of the parking bays. Nothing moved. All Bishop could hear was the distant sounds of traffic from the interstate. Perfect. No witnesses.
Bishop stepped outside, turned right and kept going until he reached the end of the building. The Infiniti was parked along the side, just behind the fourth guy’s Chevy. In front of that was the Subaru sedan Jeff and Mickey must have used to transport him here. He felt certain both vehicles would find themselves under new ownership before too long. Especially as Bishop had left them unlocked with the keys inside. He placed the weapons in the Infiniti’s trunk and closed it. Back inside, Kidanu was already putting on his suit jacket again. The bullet hole wasn’t too obvious.
‘Let’s get going,’ Bishop said. He carefully picked Lisa up in his arms and carried her out. He was placing her in the back seat of the car when she opened her eyes and looked around in all directions. Then she focused on him.
‘Hey, kiddo,’ he said. ‘How you doing?’
She smiled and said, ‘’Kay, I guess.’ Then she saw Kidanu come around the corner. ‘He’s here, too? Where are we?’
‘Jersey. We’ll be heading back to the city soon.’
‘Jersey?’ Lisa hugged herself. Bishop thought she shivered a little. ‘Oh, yeah. I remember now. I thought I dreamed it.’
‘Don’t think about it any more, okay?’ Bishop said. ‘You’re safe now.’
‘What about . . . you know, the others?’ She stared at the floor. ‘Especially that one called Mickey.’
Bishop relaxed. That question meant she hadn’t actually witnessed Mickey’s death. No kid should have that kind of image in her consciousness.
‘He’s gone,’ he said. ‘They’re all gone.’
Lisa raised her head and looked at him for a moment. He could see the question in her eyes. But instead, she said, ‘Good. Can we go too, please?’
‘You bet.’ Bishop kissed her cheek again, then stood up and faced Kidanu. He handed him the keys and said, ‘You want to get the car pointed in the right direction? I just need to do something.’
Kidanu looked down at the keys, then stared at Bishop. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I don’t like loose ends. I’ll just be a minute.’
Bishop left them and went back inside, shutting the door behind him. With the shutters drawn across the windows, nobody could see in. Bishop crouched down and checked the fourth man’s pockets. He felt a wallet in one, but left it there. He wouldn’t need to know this one’s name. In another pocket he found a small, spiral-bound notebook. He opened it and flipped through the pages. On the most recent page Bishop could just about decipher a list of groceries. Underneath that was the name of Lisa’s school and the 182nd Street address.
Like he’d thought. This guy had either grabbed Lisa himself, or he’d helped. It didn’t matter which. He would have also been aware of Lisa’s ultimate fate. Might even have helped get rid of the body once Mickey was done with her. And Bishop too, of course. But that was irrelevant. Bishop was old enough to take care of himself.
And he always kept his promises.
Bishop replaced the notebook and cut the zip ties from the man’s hands and feet. The man gave no sign of regaining consciousness, which was good. Better if he wasn’t awake for the next part. Bishop didn’t particularly want the guy to suffer. He just wanted him gone.
A quick twisting motion combined with a few pounds of pressure was all it took.
Bishop left the building and saw Kidanu already had the car pointing towards the exit gate with the engine idling. He wiped the handles on both sides of the door and then used his jacket tail to pull it closed. From his pocket, he took the padlock he’d found in the kitchen, looped it through the steel hasp and snapped it shut. He wiped his prints from that too, then walked to the Infiniti and got in the passenger side.
Kidanu gave him a questioning look.
‘Let’s go,’ Bishop said.
Kidanu nodded and released the handbrake. ‘Where to now? Back to the city?’
Bishop was thinking of that auto salvage place a few miles from here. It would just be a brief detour. ‘Not j
ust yet,’ he said.
SEVENTY-THREE
At 18.33, they were parked off Leesville Avenue, in a recess that served as the entrance to First Choice Auto Salvage. Next to the run-down front office directly ahead was a wide, padlocked steel gate. A ten-foot-high corrugated steel fence stretched off to left and right. Bishop assumed this whole area was Jersey’s version of the Iron Triangle in Queens. They were surrounded on all sides by numerous auto-based businesses, including a few auto wreckers and even more car junkyards.
The last of the daylight was almost gone. A few businesses were still operating, but most had either finished for the day or were in the process of doing so. First Choice was already closed. At least Bishop hoped so. He couldn’t see any lights inside.
‘Why are we here, exactly?’ Kidanu asked.
‘Klyce mentioned this place on the phone. He intimated he came out here fairly often, and I need to see why.’
‘There may be security guards.’
‘I doubt it.’ Bishop held up the keys. ‘Besides, I won’t be breaking in this time.’
The cell phone in his pocket started vibrating. He’d forgotten to check the missed calls. He pulled it out, saw the display and turned to Lisa in the back. ‘It’s your grandfather.’
She looked crestfallen. ‘Not Dad?’
‘No. I’ve been trying to reach him, but he’s not answering his phone.’
Bishop took the call. Before he could speak, Arnie said, ‘Lisa’s gone missing, Bishop. She left school and nobody’s heard from her. Tell me she called you, because I . . .’
Bishop broke in. ‘Are you alone?’
‘What?’
‘I said are you alone?’
‘Janice is here with me. Why? What difference does that make?’
‘It makes a big difference. Lisa’s okay. She’s with me right now.’
