20 Takedown Twenty (10 page)

“He’s never alone,” I said to Vinnie. “He’s got bodyguards. And no one will snitch on him.”

“Not everyone likes him,” Vinnie said. “A guy like Sunny makes enemies. Mostly they have a short life expectancy, but there’s gotta be someone out there who wants him caught besides me. Be creative, for crissake!”

The front door to the bail bonds office crashed open and Bella took two steps in and pointed her finger at me.

“You!”
she said. “Devil woman. You shoot my nephew. Now I shoot you.”

She pulled an ancient six-shooter out of her purse, aimed, and fired off a shot that went wide. I rushed her before she could gather herself together and took her to the floor.

“Cuffs!”
I yelled, wrestling the gun from Bella, holding her down. “Someone cuff her!”

Connie peeked out from behind her desk and tossed cuffs my way. I snapped them on Bella and got her up on her feet. Her lips were pressed tight together, and her eyes looked like steel bearing balls.

“What the hell?” Vinnie asked. “What’s going on?”

I sat Bella in one of the cheap orange plastic chairs and called Morelli.

“You know your meatball theory?” I said to him. “You were wrong. Your grandmother is here with a revolver. You need to come get her.”

“Was anyone hurt?”

“No one was hurt, but I think Vinnie messed his pants.”

It took Morelli fifteen minutes to get across town. Bella still hadn’t said a word. Vinnie was barricaded in his private office. Lula and Connie were hunkered down at the back of the room, where Bella couldn’t see them to give them the eye.

Morelli looked at his handcuffed grandmother, the hole in the far wall, and the revolver on Connie’s desk.

“You’re right,” he said to me. “That’s no meatball.”

“She the devil,” Bella said. “She shoot your godfather, a good man. And she do this to a granny. She have no respect. Look how she treat a poor old lady.”

Morelli blew out a sigh. “Where’d you get the gun?”

“I got lots. An old lady got to protect herself.”

He unlocked her cuffs. “You can’t go around shooting people. It’s against the law, and it’s not nice.”

“I spit on the law,” Bella said. “I do what’s right.”

Morelli took the six-shooter in one hand and held on to his grandmother with the other.

“Thanks for the phone call,” he said to me. “Sorry she shot at you.”

Bella flipped us the bird and marched out with Morelli.

Vinnie opened his door a crack. “Is she gone?”

Connie made the sign of the cross. “Maybe we should bring in a priest. Do an exorcism or something. I could call Father Lenny.”

“Forget Father Lenny,” I said. “I need donuts. Lots of them.”

“I GOTTA GO feed Kevin,” Lula said. “We could get the donuts on the way.”

“Do you already have his lettuce?”

“Yup. I got a whole bag of it in the fridge in the back room.”

Lula drove us to Tasty Pastry and we got half a dozen donuts. The donuts were gone by the time we got to Fifteenth Street. Lula was looking satisfied, and I was feeling queasy.

It was midmorning, and the weather was glorious. Blue sky, puffy clouds, mid-seventies. Not a lot of traffic at this time of day in this part of town. This was Sunny’s neighborhood, so while it was lousy with wiseguys it was free of street gangs, and no one was loitering at corners or doorways.

Lula had her head out the window while she cruised a four-block grid. “Here, Kevin!” she called. “Come get your lettuce!”

We didn’t see Kevin, and we didn’t see Sunny or his goons.

“I hope nothing happened to Kevin,” Lula said.

“Maybe he had a late night and he’s sleeping,” I said. “Why don’t we leave the lettuce, and we can come back later.”

Lula dumped the lettuce out at the corner of Fifteenth and Freeman, we took one last ride around, and Lula drove to the mall.

“I gotta see how much one of them genuine Brahmin bags costs,” Lula said. “I like my Brakmin okay, but it’s no Brahmin.”

“I think a Brahmin bag might be pricey.”

“I could save up for it. I could get a night job, if you know what I mean.”

“I thought you didn’t do that anymore.”

“I’ve been doing it in the name of passion, so I don’t see where it’d hurt to do it once or twice for the sake of being fashionable. I mean, I got a passion to get a Brahmin bag, so where’s the difference, right?”

We passed by the store’s shoe department without so much as a glance and found ladies’ handbags. Lula went straight to the Brahmins.

“There’s too many,” she said. “How am I supposed to choose when they got all these colors? It’s true that none of them got crystals like my Brakmin, but that’s on account of these bags are real classy. These bags are
ladies’
bags.”

“That might leave you out since you’re planning on buying one by selling your wares on a street corner.”

“There’s no rules saying a lady can’t do a BJ,” Lula said. “And
some of these bags aren’t so expensive. I could have one of these bags in no time.”

“You could also make money by helping me capture Sunny,” I told her.

“That’s true,” Lula said. “I don’t have much confidence in that happening, but I guess we could give it another try.”

We drove back to Fifteenth and Morgan and sat there for a half hour.

“Nothing’s happening,” Lula said. “This is boring. I say we get out and walk around. Maybe we’ll come across Kevin.”

We walked three blocks down Fifteenth and turned onto Willard. We walked one block on Willard and turned onto Sixteenth.

“This is good,” Lula said. “I bet we already walked off those donuts what with walking in the mall and walking here.” She stopped and tipped her nose up and sniffed the air. “I think I might have just caught a whiff of giraffe.”

I looked around. I sniffed. “I don’t smell anything.”

“That’s because you aren’t so finely tuned to Kevin as I am.” She walked twenty paces down Sixteenth. “Yep, that’s giraffe I’m smelling. He’s up there in front of us. I bet he’s heading for Freeman Street.”

“Freeman and Fifteenth is ground zero for Uncle Sunny Land,” I said. “I think we should stay away from that block.”

“Yeah, but Kevin’s going after his lettuce. He’ll be real disappointed if he don’t get to see who’s been leaving him all that delicious food.”

“He’ll be even more disappointed if the food stops showing up because Sunny’s goons drilled you full of bullet holes.”

“Hey,
I
didn’t shoot Uncle Sunny. I was just a innocent bystander. I’m pretty sure the goons got that figured out.
You’re
the one they want to drill full of holes.”

“I didn’t shoot Sunny!”

“I know that and Uncle Sunny knows that and you know that,” Lula said, “but the rest of the world don’t know that.”

“Well, I’m going to be careful until the rest of the world knows I didn’t shoot Sunny.”

“I’m not sure the rest of the world cares,” Lula said. “I’m thinking they might want to shoot you anyway.”

“This is ridiculous. I’m a nonviolent person. I hate the
Godfather
movies. I get nauseous when I see Bruce Willis bleeding. I never even carry a gun. Why do people want to shoot me?”

“Because you’re a bounty hunter?”

“I need a new job.”

“You say that all the time,” Lula said, “but I don’t see you
getting
a new job. And just because you got a new job don’t mean people won’t want to shoot you. For instance, you get a job as a chef or interior decorator, and I bet some people want to shoot you.”

“I could sell shoes.”

“Yeah, you’d get to spend time on your knees, looking up people’s hoo-has. I can’t see you doing that job neither. That’d be a job for Vinnie.”

“Maybe we should split up. You go look for Kevin, and
I’ll make my way back to the car. I’ll meet you there in a half hour.”

“That sounds like a plan. You want my gun?”

“No!” Even if I’d had a gun I didn’t think I could shoot it with my two fingers splinted together.

“Yell if you need help,” Lula said.

“I’ll be fine,” I told her.

I was happy with the plan. It was a beautiful day, and I didn’t mind walking. You see things on foot that you miss in a car. You hear things. You meet people. Sunny owned properties here. He did business here. He had friends and also enemies here. And probably Vinnie was right. Sunny’s enemies would be more helpful than his friends.

This block of Sixteenth was primarily residential. The conjoined redbrick houses had originally been single family but were now subdivided into flats. Most were nicely maintained. No gang graffiti. No burned-out crack houses. No rats scurrying around in the gutters. There also were no yards or porches. Each house had a front stoop that was three or four steps high. This allowed for small basement windows. A few of the houses had first-floor businesses. A bridal shop, a realtor, a tailor who was most likely a front for something.

I passed an older woman carrying a grocery bag, but that was it for foot traffic. Car traffic was almost as sparse. I reached the end of the block and crossed the street. I walked past two row houses, and a black SUV rolled down the street and parked in front of me. Two guys got out of the SUV and pulled guns.
I turned to run and saw the black Lincoln Town Car idling at the curb behind me. Shorty and Moe got out and walked toward me. Moe had his gun drawn. Shorty was holding a stun gun.

I didn’t see any little businesses on this block. No open apartment building doors. No place to run for shelter. I could sprint across the street and start trying doors, but they’d be on me if the first door didn’t open. I grabbed my cellphone, pressed the speed dial for Ranger, and took off. I was across the street, attempting to get into a house with my phone still in my hand, when I felt the stun gun charge rip through me. After that it was all mental confusion and scrambled muscle connections.

The fog started to clear and I found myself in total darkness. I had a vague memory of being carried. I was in a cramped position, unable to straighten my legs. My hands were cuffed behind my back. I lay perfectly still, trying to clear my head, fighting the panic that was burning in my chest. I could feel motion and bumps. I was in the trunk of a car. The Lincoln, I thought.

I could scream, but that wasn’t going to do me any good while the car was moving. I was pressed against something hard and scratchy, and it was preventing me from maneuvering my legs into a position to kick anything.

The car came to a stop, and I started screaming. The lid to the trunk opened, and I saw daylight and Moe looking down at me.

“That screaming’s annoying,” Moe said. “If you don’t stop I’m going to zap you again.”

“Where are we?”

“We’re on the bridge. You’re going swimming.”

Shorty and another guy came around and helped Moe wrangle me out of the trunk. The job was made more difficult by the fact that a cinderblock was attached to my ankle by a long rope.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” I said, looking down at the cinderblock. “Mob guys don’t actually do this.”

“Turns out, we do,” Moe said.

Cars were zipping by, drivers gawking. Some honked their horns and waved.

Moe waved back. “They think we’re making a movie or something.” He slammed the trunk closed. “We usually do this at night, but I got to go to an anniversary party for my in-laws.”

The SUV was parked behind the Lincoln. One guy was behind the wheel and the other guy was standing next to Shorty, taking it all in.

“Okay, here we go,” Moe said. “We’ll alley-oop her over the guardrail.”

“Why are you doing this?” I asked.

“That’s one of those questions that got an obvious answer,” Moe said. “You’re a pain in the ass, and you won’t go away. And you shot Sunny.”

“I didn’t shoot Sunny. Rita shot Sunny.”

“I wouldn’t find that hard to believe,” Moe said, “but we got our orders.”

The guy from the SUV gave a grunt and hefted the cinderblock.

“No! Help!”
I yelled.
“Helllllllp!”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” Moe said to me. “Always the pain in the ass.”

“Help!”
I screamed.
“Somebody help me!”

Some cars slowed to look, but no one stopped.

“For crissake,” the SUV guy said. “
Move her!
I’m gonna pop a hemorrhoid holding this motherfucking cinderblock.”

Moe had me by one arm, and Shorty had me by the other. I was struggling against them, kicking out with the foot not tied to the cinderblock, but I was losing ground. They got me to the guardrail, and I could see the Delaware River dark and deep, swirling away from the bridge abutments.

I was still screaming and kicking as I was lifted off my feet, and I felt the guardrail against my back.

“Shove her over,” the SUV guy said.

“I’m fucking trying,” Moe said. “We should have tied her other foot.”

I connected with Shorty’s crotch and heard him expel a
woof
of air. He released my arm and doubled over. The SUV guy dropped the cinderblock and grabbed me. There was a lot of swearing and grunting and struggling, and I went over the side. I dropped about ten feet, heard something go
thunk
, and I hung there, twirling around in the breeze.