Cutter (50 page)
Authors: Thomas Laird
‘What’re you talking about, Jimmy?’ Doc wanted to know.
‘I’m trying to say I make myself available to the electronic media. I tell them over and over what a limp-dick psycho Marco really is. I make up a lie about how he’s despised by his own mother and father. I say he was sexually abused by his fucking uncle. Whatever. I make it very inflammatory. This guy’s overly emotional. He can fly off the handle. We know that about him. If I can get him to come for me, we’ll be placing him inside the closest thing we’ve got to a controlled environment. And that’s my plan.’
‘You talk this over with Natalie?’ Jack queried.
‘Yeah. She’s a cop and a very fine one too.’
‘It’s ridiculous, Jimmy. Why don’t we just ride with the vendetta Marco’s got against John Fortuna?’ Doc demanded.
‘We got to shove this rectal birth out of the hole. Or his list gets longer. He’s a businessman too. He’s going to kill because the money’s too good not to ... We’ve got Interpol working on the European end, and they say they might have some good news for us soon. But there’s no promise about results from them. We’ve got to hook Karrios before he carves a bigger chunk out of the female population of this city. And I’m not reflecting pressure from the Captain or the people above him. This comes straight from yours truly. Enough is enough!’
I slammed my desk top, and the THUMPPP! startled me too.
Doc looked right into my eyes.
‘You or your new wife gets hurt, I’ll never forgive you. I love you, paisan, but if one of you catches a cold on this, I won’t be able to let go of it. I’m telling you true, James,’ Gibron said in the stoniest voice I’d ever heard come out of his mouth.
‘This idea of mine might already be in The Farmer’s skull, Doc. We all talked about it before. I’m just going to turn up the heat.’
He shook his head, but he put up his palms in defeat shortly thereafter.
‘Playing who’s-got-the-balls with a conscienceless dildo like Karrios. There is no percentage ... I assume I’m wasting my breath?’ Doc conceded.
I nodded my head slowly at my senior partner.
I
se
e
yo
u,
bu
t
yo
u
don’
t
se
e
m
e
.
I
watc
h
th
e
hom
e
wher
e
Joh
n
Fortun
a
live
s,
i
n
Skoki
e.
I
t
seem
s
rathe
r
humorou
s
someho
w
tha
t
th
e
loca
l
Sicilia
n
chieftai
n
live
s
i
n
th
e
mids
t
o
f
al
l
thes
e
Jew
s.
Mos
t
o
f
th
e
guinea
s
ten
d
t
o
cluste
r
i
n
thei
r
ow
n
neighborhood
s,
bu
t
Fortun
a
live
s
i
n
wha
t
wa
s
hi
s
father’
s
hous
e.
Hi
s
fathe
r,I
a
m
tol
d,
wa
s
a
dentis
t
an
d
ha
d
n
o
connection
s
t
o
th
e
Outfi
t
a
t
al
l
.
Whereve
r
Jacki
e
Morocc
o
goe
s,
h
e
i
s
accompanie
d
b
y
n
o
les
s
tha
n
si
x
goon
s.
The
n
ther
e
i
s
th
e
FB
I
surveillanc
e,
whic
h
I’
m
sur
e
he’
s
awar
e
o
f.
Th
e
federal
s
ar
e
alway
s
aroun
d.
Bu
t
non
e
o
f
the
m
know
s
m
y
ne
w
fac
e,
whic
h
make
s
i
t
possibl
e
fo
r
m
e
t
o
tr
y
an
d
ge
t
clos
e
t
o
Fortun
a
.
*
Joh
n
doe
s
no
t
believ
e
i
n
electroni
c
securit
y.
I’v
e
hear
d
hi
m
sa
y
h
e
pay
s
me
n
t
o
d
o
tha
t
kin
d
o
f
wor
k.
S
o
whe
n
I
wal
k
u
p
t
o
hi
s
hom
e
o
n
thi
s
Thursda
y
nigh
t—
actuall
y
it’
s
a
n
earl
y
Frida
y
mornin
g-1
se
e
tha
t
th
e
tw
o
FB
I
agent
s
ar
e
aslee
p
i
n
thei
r
va
n,
parke
d
a
hal
f-
bloc
k
u
p
th
e
stree
t.
Ther
e
i
s
a
ligh
t
o
n
i
n
Fortuna’
s
fron
t
windo
w.
Th
e
hous
e
itsel
f
i
s
inauspiciou
s.
H
e
doesn’
t
sho
w
hi
s
mone
y
b
y
th
e
appearanc
e
o
f
th
e
dwellin
g
o
r
b
y
th
e
neighborhoo
d
h
e
live
s
i
n.
It’
s
par
t
o
f
th
e
reaso
n
he’
s
alway
s
bee
n
lo
w-
profil
e.
He’
s
no
t
lik
e
tha
t
gu
y
Gott
i
i
n
Ne
w
Yor
k.
There’
s
non
e
o
f
tha
t
flamboyanc
e
.
I’l
l
tr
y
th
e
bac
k
wa
y
int
o
th
e
hous
e.I
sa
w
thre
e
o
f
hi
s
associate
s
g
o
i
n,
aroun
d
midnigh
t,
bu
t
I
thin
k
that’
s
th
e
tota
l
numbe
r
o
f
cre
w
assigne
d
a
s
hi
s
bodyguard
s.I
assum
e
the
y
wor
k
i
n
shift
s
o
f
eigh
t
hour
s,
on
e
awak
e
a
t
al
l
time
s.
S
o
tha
t
mean
s
a
t
leas
t
on
e
o
f
th
e
bodyguard
s
i
s
sittin
g
u
p,
keepin
g
th
e
vigi
l.
I’
m
bettin
g
th
e
on
e
sentr
y
i
s
i
n
tha
t
livin
g
roo
m
wher
e
th
e
ligh
t
burn
s.
It’
s
2.
4
8
a.m.
Joh
n
Fortun
a
shoul
d
b
e
aslee
p
a
t
thi
s
hou
r.
He’
s
no
t
a
publi
c
womanize
r,
eithe
r.
Othe
r
tha
n
wha
t
Elle
n
tol
d
m
e
abou
t
hi
m
fuckin
g
hi
s
ow
n
siste
r,
al
l
thos
e
year
s
ag
o,I
don’
t
kno
w
muc
h
abou
t
hi
s
privat
e
lif
e.
H
e
live
s
a
rathe
r
solitar
y
socia
l
lif
e
als
o
.
I
pic
k
th
e
dea
d
bol
t
o
n
th
e
bac
k
doo
r
onl
y
t
o
fin
d
there’
s
a
chai
n,
bu
t
I’
m
abl
e
t
o
ge
t
m
y
glove
d
han
d
insid
e
fa
r
enoug
h
s
o
tha
t
I
ca
n
fin
d
th
e
chai
n
an
d
it
s
bol
t.I
maneuve
r
m
y
knif
e
unti
l
I
fin
d
th
e
meta
l
piec
e
tha
t
house
s
th
e
bol
t,
an
d
the
n
I
wedg
e
th
e
ti
p
unde
r
tha
t
housin
g.
I’
m
abl
e
t
o
dislodg
e
th
e
chai
n
an
d
bol
t
becaus
e
th
e
screw
s
tha
t
secur
e
the
m
mus
t
b
e
loos
e.
I
n
unde
r
tw
o
minute
s
I’
m
insid
e
.
