Nah.?
This one?? Yeah, that's the one. A green 1999 Chevy Impala.?
Yeah.
After he snatched them a car, he and Moss would see about this wetback who cleaned Dugan's apartment.? Put her through her paces.? For now, however, it was dinner time.? And dinner time was downtime.
"I tell you what," Roland Moss said in a long, lazy drawl.???
Fingers sat across the table from Moss and waited for the rest of his statement.? It could be a while before the big man decided to finish it.? If there was one thing Fingers knew about Moss after the last couple of jobs he had pulled with him, it was that Moss always talked slow.
He did everything slow.? It wasn't that he couldn't move fast - he could.? Fingers had seen him move with sudden lightning speed.? It was almost as if Moss did everything slow on purpose, to allow people to let down their guard.???
Fingers watched him destroy the bread bowl, slowly, deliberately tearing its remains apart, and putting them in his mouth.? Here was a big lumbering creature of a man.? Everything about him said SLOW.? He even talked slow - sometimes pausing for what seemed like a very long time between words and even syllables.? He claimed that he talked slow so that everyone - even the simplest of simpletons - would understand.?
And his sheer size and the crazy mayhem in his eyes meant that his patience was rarely tested.? Clerks were terrified of him.? His two monstrous hands on the counter, the epic bulk of his shoulders and upper body leaning forward, his body relaxed but the brow of his forehead creased with mild annoyance?
"Son," he might drawl, letting that word linger, the time stretching out between himself and the startled mouse of a desk clerk below him, "I hope you're gonna go on and do what I ask."
This was enough.? This was more than enough.
Fingers had seen it happen.? Times when he, Fingers, would practically have to throw a tantrum to get what he wanted - and he was a hired killer, for Christ's sake - Moss merely had to clench his jaw in disapproval.?
Six months ago, Fingers had watched Moss break a man's neck with the same bland expression on his face that he wore right now while eating his dinner.? It was a mixture of boredom and detached concentration.?
Moss chewed the bread with near infinite care.? "The thing is," he said, his impassive eyes roaming the restaurant, soaking in the other early dinner patrons.? "I'm not sure I like that boy."? He nodded, as if in agreement with himself.? "It's his attitude.? Rubs me the wrong way."
"Cruz?" Fingers said, to make sure they were on the same page.
Moss raised his eyebrows, as if to say, "Who else?"
"That's probably why he works alone, right?" Fingers said.
Moss motioned to the waitress.? "Well, he ain't working alone on this job.? If he's gonna act this way, he might need a talking to."? He cracked his mighty knuckles for emphasis.? The waitress, a blond with a young, firm body, and a face and voice that were middle aged from years of smoking, came over.
"Darling," Moss said, "may I have a cup of coffee and a dessert menu? ?Any time you get a moment."
???
* * *
?
Over his apple pie with whipped cream on top, and two cups of coffee, Moss half-listened as the little monkey chattered away.? Hell, let the boy talk.? He was just working out his nerves before the job.
"You know what it is?" Fingers said, talking low and fast, glancing around between every statement to see who was looking.? "It's this: I like killing people.? That's why I feel like I got the best job in the world, you know?? I go out on a mission, and I know we're gonna do somebody, I'm like right there, man.? I'm ready.? I look forward to it."
That's how the monkey sometimes talked.? He called them "missions."
"Look at this fucking hand," Fingers said.? He held up the hand with the three missing fingers.? He touched his pinky to his thumb, rapidly, three times, like a crab with its pincers.? The hand was permanently discolored, an angry lobster red.
"I like this hand.? You know why?? Because it's a war wound.? I ever tell you how I fucked up this hand?"
Of course he had.? Probably three times.? But here it came again.
"I blew it up, see?? I had a fucking bomb in my hand.? And it blew up."? He pointed at Moss with the angry red pinky.? "But that's the kind of life I lead.? Action.? Everybody should lead such a life.? I like to go out on missions where I know there's gonna be some action."???
"What do you think of this job?" Moss said.?
Fingers shrugged.? "Retrieval duty.? Whatever.? I don't really like it, but I don't criticize.? It looks like a boring one.? But you know, maybe we'll see some action.? Who knows?? You know, I do what I'm told - I steal a car, whatever - and I shut up about it."
The fingers of his good hand drummed on the table.
Moss sipped his coffee.? Retrieval duty.? He didn't mind it.? Money was money.? No fuss, no muss.? Pick up the old man, find out what he did with the money, and get it back if possible.? Then bring the old boy down to New York, with the money or not.
The money.?
The money, the money, the money.
The dossier said the old boy had killed Roselli and made off with $2.5 mil from the fat man's safe.? Moss mused on this for a moment.? He had met Roselli a few times when Moss was bouncing at the club on Bell Boulevard in Queens, knocking around the college boys when they got out of hand.? The fat man used to come in there, sometimes alone, sometimes with a couple of guys from his crew, sometimes with a fake tit platinum blonde on each arm.
He had wagged a fat finger at Moss one time.? "When I talk, you listen.? Understand?? When I say jump, you jump."
He had said this to Moss.? To Moss!? Didn't he realize Moss could snap his neck with one hand?
Moss snorted.? Roselli was a fat, bossy fuck with a big mouth.? Sooner or later, he might have killed the man himself.?
In any case, this trip wasn't about Roselli.? Nobody missed Roselli.? This trip was about don't fuck around, and give us back the money you took.? The money was the reason there were three of them on this job.? One man, on his own, might stumble upon all that money - it was just too tempting.??
Moss waved it away.? He made plenty of money.? The way he saw it, he exchanged his time and his peculiar talents for a high standard of living.? He lived alone in a big three bedroom condo in Long Beach, a place he hadn't been back to in the past month.? He had ten suits and fifteen pairs of shoes.? He owned a big damn Hummer H2 which he almost never had the opportunity to drive.? He had silk shirts and silk sheets.? He was busy and that suited him fine.? On rare days when there was no work, all he did was he sat on the beach and watched the waves crash.? At night, he went to the clubs, sucked down the booze, and threw money away on the whores.? He spent big money, and you know what?? He could live this life forever.
He wasn't about to risk all for a one-time grab at the brass ring.? Not even thirty yet, and he had already put too many dumb fuckers out of their misery for trying exactly that.? He knew, he knew: it was a dumb play.? You don't get away with it.? It was a lesson the old boy was about to learn in spades.
And Cruz?
Moss didn't like that fucker.? He didn't like that pocked up face or those beady little eyes.? He didn't like the way he talked down to you, like he was above it all somehow.? Cruz was getting old himself.? To Moss, he seemed like a guy about to take a fall.
And that was good.
"What do you think, slim?" Moss said to Fingers.? "Is it time to get ourselves some wheels or what?"?
???
* * *
?
"Travis, you get down off that goddamn tree!"?
From his perch on a white plastic chair on the back porch of Darren's single-wide three bedroom trailer, Hal had an ample view of the wreckage of his friend's life.? The trailer sat on cinderblocks, surrounded by thirty similar trailers in a house park optimistically named Metro Gardens.?
Hal mused on the name.? There was nothing metropolitan about this place, and the
re were no gardens in evidence.? The lot was hard-packed earth, with thick bushes along the edges of the property, and the Androscoggin River just past them, close enough to bring the mosquitoes in the spring and summer.? The bushes served to obscure the river and the ancient, decaying factory on the other side.?
The property was fenced along the river, so the kids from the trailer park wouldn't be tempted to ford their way across and break into the abandoned factory.? Nothing but trouble over there.? Nine year-olds smoking pot.? Thirteen year-olds having sex.? Rejects, maniacs and predators of all kinds would haunt a spot like that.? Nobody in this trailer park would want their kids going over there.? But it did no good.? Hal could see two gaping holes in the fence right from here.?
He took a slug of beer and chased it with a sip of Jack Daniel's.? He shrugged his big shoulders.? In any case, on a cool October day like today, the skeeters were all gone, and it was still just warm enough to sit out and barbecue back here.? Darren had gone back inside to replenish the little six-pack cooler from whence they took their beers.?
While Hal waited, the sun went down across the open trailer park from him.? In the fading light, he watched Darren's three kids, ages nine, eight and four, and Darren's wife Lynn.? Lynn, never particularly attractive, had reached her mid-thirties, and was becoming fatter, more sallow, and ever more disagreeable by the day.? Come to think of it, that last child, the four year old, was probably a trap set by Lynn - she hadn't worked since the first one was born, and one more child had put the final nail in the coffin of Darren's dream that she might ever get another job.
The kids raced around the lot with all the other trailer trash children, shouting and screaming.? Travis, the eldest, was the offending tree climber.? Lynn stood by a circular clothes hanger, smoking cigarettes and talking with two other mommies going to seed.? Now and then, she would turn her attention to the kids and unleash instructions or abuse, depending on what the situation warranted.
Living in a trailer with three kids and Lynn.? Man.? Not for the first time, Hal reflected that his friend Darren was like a flashlight without a battery.? He had worked low-paying, back-breaking shit jobs his entire life.? This is where he had ended up.? Without Hal's influence, Lynn would probably be the extent of Darren's sex life, and he wouldn't have an extra dime to put in his pocket.?
Darren was being sucked under.? Lynn spent what she could, and Hal knew, was constantly critical - where they lived, what the kids wore, where they shopped, what they drove.? None of it was ever good enough.? In Hal's estimation, Darren needed to leave this bitch and get out of this rat's nest of a living arrangement.? It seemed strange that a big boy like Darren allowed himself to get pushed around and used up like this.?
It wasn't right.
Darren came back on the porch.? He smiled with that big jaw of his.? Atta boy.? His eyes were still blacked, his nose plugged and taped, and that bruise on the side of his neck was coming along good.? They had skated by on the damage by telling Lynn they'd been down to Old Orchard Beach drinking in a bar, and got in a scrape with some black boys.? Lynn hated those blackies in Old Orchard.
"Only got four beers left," Darren said.? "Guess we'll need to head out for some."
Hal smiled, too.? The sun was just about gone.? Twilight was coming in, and with it, the night's chill.? "Wanna show you something before we do."
"Yeah, what's that?"
Hal's grin grew even broader.? He was feeling good.? Despite everything, or maybe because of it, he was feeling real good.? He looked forward to a challenge, after all.? And getting even?? Boy, was there anything quite like it?? Even being around Lynn today couldn't bring him down.
"Out in the car," he said.
The two men sauntered, beers in hand, the flask of Jack in Hal's back pocket, through the gathering gloom and over to the parking lot.? They reached Hal's big Caddy Eldorado.? He pressed a button on his key chain and the trunk popped open a few inches, the light coming on inside.?
There was no one around.
Back over by the bushes - the woods is what they called them - the kids were still running and screaming.? They had flashlights now.?
Lynn's voice floated across the lot.? "Okay, come on you kids.? Get in the house.? Now, I said."
"Whatcha got?" Darren said.
Hal opened the trunk.? Lying there, amidst the jack, the tire iron, some recyclable beer bottles, and a few assorted sundries, was the gun case.?
"Oooooh," Darren said.
"You know that Mossberg 20-gauge I had my eye on down to Kittery Trading Post?? The single barrel with the pump action?"
"I guess I do."
Hal unzipped the case and yanked out the shotgun.? "Went down and bought her last week.? I forgot to mention it in all the recent excitement."
Darren giggled like a boy.? "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"
Just like Darren to be a step behind.? Why else would it be in the car?? "Sure am, kid.? Thought I'd bring it with us down to Portland tomorrow night, see what Little Miss Lola does with her prize pussy when she gets a look-see at that big barrel."
Hal took another slug of his beer.? His smile was wider than ever.
?
* * *
?
After Lorena finished in the garden, she lingered for some time in Smoke's apartment itself.? It was a tiny place, a bachelor's home in every way, with a double bed in one supposed room, then through a wide open double doorway to the kitchen and dining area, then out the door to the back.? The cats had a little doorway they could squeeze through in the lower panel of the back door itself.? Oddly, Smoke kept triple locks on both doors, and sometimes at night he placed a t-bar against the bottom, secured with a bolt which he had mounted into the floor.
She teased him sometimes about this.? "Who are you afraid of, Smoke?? Will the secret police come to get you?"? "I am like the janitor - I have so many keys on my chain.? They are all to get into your home."
Smoke didn't keep the place very clean, and sometimes Lorena cleaned up after him.? She didn't clean too often, though, because Smoke had a woman who should take care of that for him.? Lorena was well past the age of competing for a man.
She sighed, not realizing she had done so, then stood and left Smoke Dugan's apartment.? Once outside, she walked the half-mile to the Shaw's Supermarket near the bridge and purchased some milk and eggs, and a very few other items she needed at her own small apartment.?
She walked along the darkened street toward her own home, not far from that of Smoke Dugan.? It was quiet and chilly, and dead leaves rustled as they blew along the ground in the breeze.? Lorena could just see her own breath.
A man came toward her.? He was a tall man, a young man who looked strong.? She imagined that if she were not a mixed race old woman from Central America, this young man would offer to carry her bags home to her apartment.? Instead, because things were as they were, he would ignore her.? She did not believe he would do this out of spite, but out of fear.? People were afraid of one another, of reaching out and being together.? This she knew about people.? The boy would probably fear that if he offered assistance, she would answer him in Spanish and he would not be able to respond.?
The young man passed her without so much as a glance in her direction.
There was something unusual about him, but she wasn't sure what it was.? Only after he passed did she realize that his right hand was missing nearly all of its fingers.? He seemed to have a pinkie and a thumb, and that was it.?
She continued to walk, allowing the weight in her hands to settle deeper, pulling down harder on her shoulders.? La Mula, she called herself.? The Mule.? She was a strong as one, and could be just as stubborn.? She was a fool for engaging in these fantasies about people and their nature.? The boy hadn't given her a thought.
Here came another man up this same deserted street.? Also a young man.? What is he thinking, Mula?? Will he help you with your bags?
The man approached slowly, but this man was very definitely looking
right at her.? She thought she didn't like the look in his eyes.? He was a big man.? She stopped and studied him carefully.? He was very big.? Violent crime was almost unheard of in this city, but this one had the dark, hard and wild light in his eyes - that light she remembered from so many murderers in her homeland.? There was hard laughter in his eyes, but no real mirth or warmth.? Nothing was funny.
She thought of the man who had just passed.? Perhaps she could run to him.? She turned, and he was right behind her.
A hand clamped on her hair from behind and pulled her backwards.? She dropped her groceries.? She felt, rather than heard the eggs smash.? She tried to turn, to struggle, but to no avail.? The big man had her in a powerful grip and was dragging her along by her hair, keeping her off-balance.
The smaller man approached her quickly.? He smiled and punched her in the eye.? It hurt, it was horrible, it was shocking.? Then he hit her again.? Things were moving too quickly.? Her heart beat rapidly.
She fell to the ground.?
They pulled at her, yanking her along the sidewalk.? Dios mio!? What did they want?? Her bag, she realized. ?They were pulling her along the ground by her hand bag.? She felt her dress, then her skin tearing as she bumped along the gravel.? They wanted her money, her little bit of money.
Well, they could have it.??
She let go of the bag.? At last, she thought. ?They would be gone.?
But no.? Now one stood over her and kicked her.? It was the small one.? He delivered swift, sharp punishing kicks to every part of her body.? He kicked her in the head.? She grew dizzy.? The world went dark, then swam back into focus.? Then went dark again.? She saw the big one, standing nearby watching the little one kick her to her death.?
As she faded from consciousness, she realized the madman was still kicking her.
?
* * *
?
Sirens howled somewhere close by.?
Cruz heard them approaching as he sat slumped and bleeding to death in the front passenger seat of a black car.? He was shot, he didn't know how many times.? He looked over at Carmine the Nose, who had just crawled into the driver's seat.? The Nose was a bloody mess.? His intestines hung out into his lap where Cruz had gutted him.? His big hands caressed the steering wheel.?
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