Stiffed (14 page)

‘I … I …’

My brain is freewheeling.

‘I hope for your sake that Annabelle sees sense, Tad.  So, where’s the million d
ollars?’

So m
aybe not quite a multiple Mexican standoff, more just Kathy and Pirelli.  And Kathy’s playing on Pirelli’s terms, but only if I can magic up the money.

‘Tad?’
 

‘I don’t have it.’

‘Now is not the time to be playing games, Tad.  I really don’t have the time.  Once I’ve sorted this spaghetti western out, I have to deal with Mr Jenkins and Mr Taylor. They’re both out of their territory and out of their league.  The gun fight they had out at the interstate truck stop last night was just crass stupidity.’

‘Gun fight?’

‘Your girlfriend, Tad, is a very nasty piece of work.  But I digress.  The million dollars.’

‘I don’t have the million dollars.  The first I ever heard about it was today when Redneck, I mean, Mr Jenkins turned up at my house
demanding it.  At that time he had Kate, Kathy, hostage.’

‘And did you give it to him?’

‘NO.  Look, Mr Pirelli, I don’t have the million dollars.  If I did, I would give it to you.  As it is, I wouldn’t even know where to begin looking for it.’

Pirelli shakes his head as if dealing with a truculent student.

The fist swipes in from the side, lifts me up and out of the seat.

Jesus, Joseph, Mary and the twelve disciples!  I think The Rock might have ruptured one of my kidneys.  I drop to the floor, my eyes watering with the pain.
 

The Rock has a punch that could knock in nails.  He
pushes the chair out of the way and lifts me to my feet. 

‘Let’s try again, Tad,’ Pirelli says,
lighting a fat cigar.  ‘Where’s the million dollars?’

‘I … I don’t know.’

‘Wrong answer.’

A fist slams into my other kidney.
  I drop to one knee.  The Rock lifts me back to my feet by my hair.

Holy crap
!  I’m going to be pissing blood next time I go to the toilet.  Assuming I last that long.

‘I know a million dollars might sound a lot to you, Tad.  But believe me, it isn’t worth the beating you’re about to receive.  Just tell me where the
Goddamn money is!’

‘Maybe
Tony Marino has it,’ I suggest, trying to buy some time.  White lies have to be better than The Rock’s fists.

Pirelli just chuckles at my answer.  ‘Kathy says you have it.’

‘I swear to God,’ I mutter.  ‘I don’t have the money and I don’t know where the money is.’

Pirelli pushes his chair back, rising to his feet.

‘I’m going to get a drink.  When I get back in fifteen minutes, you’d better have an answer or life as you know it is going to end.’

Life as I know it has already ended.

Pirelli and The Rock leave the room, locking it behind them.  I slump down on the chair.  I’m in too much pain to think clearly, but I’m going to give it a good go. 

* * *

It’s stiflingly hot in the room and the window refuses to open.  I have absolutely no idea where to find the million dollars.  The house had been turned over thoroughly.  Which means that it must be somewhere else.  I have run through every place I can think of.  Every location that I ever visited with Crazy Kate. 

Nothing.
  Zip.  Nada. 

Which leaves Pirelli with a
problem, and me with a bigger one.

Annabelle, Sally, Jason and Paavo are relying on me to come up with a solution and I have absolutely sweet FA to offer.

I hope they’re doing okay.  That they’re being treated well, but somehow I doubt it.  They’re probably tied up and are getting fifty seven varieties of crap beaten out of them.

What a fuck up. 

I wonder how Pirelli is going to react to my lack of inspiration.  Not with too much charity, I suspect.  As the man says himself, he doesn’t do good causes.  Once The Rock is finished with me I’ll probably be little more than a human marshmallow.

I take my wallet off the table and open
it up.  It contains forty two dollars and a visa card with a five thousand dollar limit.  I doubt that’s going to get me far.  I slip it into my back pocket. 

A few moments later the door is unlocked and
The Rock walks in followed by Aldo Pirelli.  The Rock takes his position behind me and Pirelli lowers himself slowly into the other chair.  In his right hand he’s holding a glass filled with amber liquid.  From the smell I’d guess whisky.

‘Well?’ he prompts.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Pirelli.  I had no idea Kate had a million dollars,’ I babble, the words spilling out.  ‘None.  She didn’t tell me anything about it.  I don’t think it’s in my house because somebody has already turned it over looking for it.  If I knew where it was, I swear to God I’d give it to you.  Cross my heart and hope to die.’

‘That can be arranged,’ Pirelli says drily.  ‘I’ve just been speaking to young Kathy. She’s adamant that you have the money.  She wasn’t so happy when I told her that you’re with me, however.  She was hoping to get to you first.  She is refusing, however, to tell me how she knows you have it.  If she can’t have half, then she’d prefer we both have nothing.  Ballsy, wouldn’t you say?’

I stare at him stony faced.  I’ve had enough of balls for one day. 

‘All she would say is to tell you to use your head,’ he continues.  ‘Then she laughed.’

Use my head?  What kind of a clue is that?  I’ve been using my head all day and look where
that’s got me.  Up shit creek without a paddle, boat or life raft.  If there’s one thing I don’t trust right now, it’s my head.

‘
It wasn’t a very pleasant laugh,’ Pirelli says.  ‘I’m not sure she’s playing with a full deck of cards to tell you the truth.’

No shit.  The woman is clearly barking.

‘Does that mean anything to you?’ he asks.

‘No,’ I answer truthfully.

‘I didn’t think it would.’

‘
It does seem, however, that she’s persuaded your friend Annabelle to part with a share of her company for her freedom.  That’s the trade – you and the mythical million dollars for half of Annabelle’s Delights.  I had a quick chat with Annabelle to confirm that.  She’s certainly a feisty young woman.’

‘Annabelle will sign over fifty percent of her company to you?’
I say incredulously.

‘Don’t sound so surprised, Tad.  Most people
give me what I want in the end, even if they don’t like doing it.’

I can’t believe that Annabelle would sign over half her company.
  She’s invested so much into it.  She’s either bluffing, hoping to find a way out of the situation later on, or she thinks she’s saving her four loser friends. 

Or at least one loser friend.

‘Not a bad day’s business,’ Pirelli continues, ‘you and your useless head for half of Annabelle’s Delights.  Especially since the million dollars was not mine to begin with.  And once you’ve managed to retrieve that, we can easily track you down and …’ He trails off, obviously delighted with himself.  The cat that got the cream factory.

‘Not yours to begin with,’ I mutter.

‘Earl Jenkins.  Or Redneck as you like to call him.’

Somehow Kathy stole a million dollars from Redneck.  Where the hell Barry White fits in, I
have no idea.

‘So what now?’

‘Now, I ask my lawyer to draw up the appropriate paperwork and ring Kathy back and arrange the details of the trade.  In the meantime, you wait here.  I think you owe Miss Levy a huge debt of gratitude, Tad.  She’s just saved your neck.’

But what about Sally, Jason and Paavo’s?

7

Never trust
a lying, cheating, double-crossing bitch

I wake suddenly, momentarily confused by my surroundings.  My head is resting on a table, my back arched and stiff.  I try to sit upright.  Every muscle in my body seems to object.  I put my hands behind my head and stretch and twist.

‘Oh fuck,’
I can’t help muttering to myself as bones crack and muscles spasm.  I need a new body, this one’s banjaxed.  A new head wouldn’t be a bad idea either.

The key turns in the lock and the door is pushed open.  The Rock stands in the doorway.

‘Time to go, Red.’

I
rub my eyes and glance at my watch.  It’s three o’clock in the afternoon.  I’ve been asleep for just over an hour and I’ve been Pirelli’s guest for the best part of three.  I’d give anything for a drink right now.  I feel like I’ve been slow cooked in the heat of the small room.

‘Mr Pirelli’
s waiting.’

I get to my feet and
brush past him, exiting the room into the cool hallway.  My feet are killing me - Sally’s husband’s too small shoes pinching my toes.  We head downstairs, through the kitchen and out the back door.  The heat outside is stifling.  It must be over thirty degrees.  I eye all the empty bottles.  God, an ice cold beer would be good right now.

There’s a black Range Rover
with tinted windows waiting in the alley.  The Rock opens the back door and I lever myself in and take a pew behind the front passenger seat.  Aldo Pirelli is sitting behind the driver.  It’s occupied by a dark haired man in a red t-shirt.  He glances back at me and smiles.  It’s the chef.  No doubt his cleaver is close to hand.  My door is closed and The Rock clambers into the passenger seat.  We pull off slowly. 

It’s freezing inside the jeep, the air conditioning blasting out icy air.  Pirelli reaches forward grabs a half liter bottle of water and hands it to me.
 

Thank
heavens for small mercies.

‘Don’t want you to die just yet,’ he says, smiling ironically.

‘Thanks.’  I take the bottle, screw off the cap and down it in one go.

Oh
heck, that’s good.  At least now it should be blood in piss and not just blood when I next go.

‘I want you to take this.’  He hands me a small pager.  I haven’t seen one in ages.  Cell phones seemed to
have killed them off.  ‘When you have the million dollars I want you to let me know.  It has a GPS so we’ll know where you are.  Just press the green button.’

I nod my head and slip the pager into my pocket.
  If I have the million dollars the last person I’m going to let know is Aldo Pirelli unless I’ve absolutely no choice.

‘Your Katherine is quite a girl, isn’t she?’
Pirelli says.

‘You could say that,’ I mutter.

‘Who would have thought it?  She grew up in the town, you know.  A few years younger than you so you might not have noticed.  She was a bit of a wild child.  Fell in with the wrong crowd and eventually ended up working for me, turning tricks.  Then she ran off to the big city.  If I’d known her true talents I’d have recruited her as an apprentice.  Devious, clever women are always useful. How long has she been with you?’

‘Seven months.’

‘That must be a record for her.  I guess if you steal a million dollars from the Memphis mob you’re best off laying low for a while; like forever.  Try and fade into the background.  Of course, someone like Kathy couldn’t stay hidden forever, especially when she’s been dumb enough to come back to Carrick.  That’s the one thing I don’t understand.  Why she came home?  She could have run anywhere.  Why come back here?’

Pirelli shakes his head.  He seems genuinely perplexed by the decision. 

My guess is she wanted to be somewhere she felt safe; where she knew the lay of the land; where she might be able to reach out for help from someone, like Pirelli, if she needed it.

But that could all be bullshit. 
God only knows how her warped mind actually works.

‘
Tony spotted her in a Rite Aid.  He’d gone in for some Maalox.  Drank the stuff like cola.  He had this stomach ulcer, you know; caused him grief for years.  Anyway, he recognized her and tailed her back to your place.  Couldn’t believe she was trying to play happy families with a schmuck like you.  Kathy Janowski the housewife!  Sheesh.’

He stares out the window at the passing landscape.

‘And then she tried to stiff me half a million dollars.’

‘Plus Annabelle’s Delights,
’ I add.

‘
I
added Annabelle’s Delights to make up the difference.  And I have to clean up after her; deal with Mr Jenkins and Mr Taylor.’

I nod my head.  Aldo Pirelli has a certain way of looking at the world, as if everything belongs to him by rights and he’s doing everyone a big favor by dealing with any opposition to his authority.

‘This is how it is going to work, Tad.  When we get there, you are going to walk to the middle of the bridge and stand where everyone can get a clear shot at you.  Annabelle is then going to walk over to us.  You’re not going to say anything to each other.  When she has signed the paperwork, you will continue over the bridge to Kathy.  Once you have located the million dollars you’ll page me.’

I really don’t like that phrase: ‘where everyone can get a clear shot at you’.  What am I, target practice?

‘What if she won’t sign?’

‘Then you walk back to us.  Assuming that Kathy and whoever she’s got helping her don’t shoot you
first.’

I don’t like the sound of this plan one bit.

‘And what about Annabelle?’

‘Annabelle stays with us until she can be persuaded to change her mind.’

‘And then what?’

‘And then we let her go.  She’s hardly going to increase my share price in captivity, is she?  I need her back at work.’

‘And Sally, Jason and Paavo?  She won’t be focused on work until they’re free.’

‘I told you
, Tad,’ Pirelli says testily, ‘if they don’t want to leave of their own free will, I will be dealing with Mr Jenkins and Mr Taylor.’

I wait a moment then ask one final question.

‘And Kathy?’

‘She better hope she can run like hell.’

* * *

We continue the rest of the journey in silence.  In my head I’m playing out permutations.  Assuming Annabelle signs the forms, then Pirelli seems set to deal with Redneck and Barry White at some point, and thus Sally, Jason and Paavo.  The question is whether I can trust him
to let them go free, or myself for that matter. Supposing that I manage to locate the million dollars, survive Kathy Janowski and don’t do a runner myself, witnesses are always a dangerous thing to leave trailing in your wake, especially those that are not part of your organization.

My gut instinct is that I wouldn’t trust Pirelli as far as
he could see without his bottle-top glasses.  Which is not a great feeling to be honest, but par for the course given the day so far.  If there’s an opportunity to spring them free earlier, I’m taking it.  We can work out how to handle Pirelli, the police and everyone else once we’re clear of their clutches.

We’re well outside the town’s limits when we draw to
a halt.  The Rock exits the jeep and opens the back door.  I step out from the chill air into a cauldron, instantly starting to sweat.  There’s no shade for a hundred yards in any direction.  In this sun I’m going to burn and blister in the time it takes to fry an egg.

We’re parked to the side of
a metal truss bridge that crosses the Abenaki River.  The bridge is probably ten meters long, the drop down to the lazy moving water the same height.  There’s a black Mercedes parked in front of us.  On the far side of the bridge is a black Ford Taurus.  What is it with the black cars?  Is that mandatory for bad guys?

There are no b
uildings in view.  The whole place has a slightly surreal feel to it.  A bridge in the middle of nowhere, seemingly serving little purpose. 

The driver’s door to the Mercedes opens and a man with silver hair in a smart grey suit steps out, lowering sunglasses down onto his nose.  In his right hand he’s clutching a brown leather briefcase. 
No doubt Pirelli’s lawyer.

Pirelli steps out of the Range Rover, his hand shading his eyes.  He gazes over at the Taurus.

Kathy Janowski exits the car on the far side of the bridge.  Her blond hair is pulled back into a short pony tail and she’s wearing large sunglasses.  She ducks her head down and a moment later it reappears, quickly followed by Annabelle’s.  A tall Mexican in his late thirties steps out from behind a bridge strut.  He’s holding an Uzi, which he is pointing in our direction.

The Rock and the chef both
tug hand guns from underarm holsters.

Pirelli throws up his hands and rolls his eyes.

‘Kathy, what is this shit?’

‘Just send over Tadhg, Mr Pirelli.’  Even now she
is still deferring to his title; his reputation.

‘Can we not conduct our business like civilized people?’

Kathy laughs.  ‘I’ve seen some of the things you’ve done to people, Mr Pirelli, none of which were very civilized.’

Pirelli waves his hand dismissively.  ‘You’re playing a dangerous game, Kathy.  We could have collaborated on this. 
Shared the profits.  I could have protected you from Mr Jenkins and that psychopath, Leroy Taylor.’

Kathy laughs again
then stops abruptly.  ‘Tadhg get out into the middle of the Goddamn bridge.’

I glance at Pirelli who gives a slight nod.

I slowly walk to the centre and stop.  This is not good.  There is nowhere to hide.  It’s two or three meters either way to the struts and some possible cover.  My stomach is flipping somersaults.

‘Send over Annabelle, Kathy.’

‘I want you to promise that you won’t come after me,’ Kathy replies.

‘Would you believe me if I
did?’

Kathy doesn’t answer, effectively confirming Pirelli’s suspicion.

‘My word is my honor,’ he says.  ‘Now, send over Annabelle.’

Kathy releases Anna
and pushes her forward.  I can tell by the way she’s holding herself that she’s hurt.  I take a pace forward to go and help her.

‘Stay where you are, Tad!’
Pirelli orders.

Annabelle shuffles forward. 
Her hair is matted, her face bruised and bloody.  She’s holding her left arm and is walking with a pronounced limp.

As she nears me I whisper. ‘
Don’t sign the papers, Anna.’

She whispers back, ‘Don’t give that bitch the million dollars.’

‘No talking,’ Pirelli barks.

She shuffles past
.  I turn my head, tracking her.

‘Face the front, Tad.’

Reluctantly I stare straight ahead at Kate Jansen/Kathy Janowski.  She pulls a tight, ironic smile.  Even at this distance I can see that she too has taken a beating at some point.  Probably at the hands of Redneck and Cowboy.

I can hear whispering behind me.  I start to turn to see what
’s going on.

‘Keep staring straight ahead or I’ll blow
your head clean off your neck,’ The Rock says.

Shit.

I’m left standing like that for five minutes.  I can feel my exposed skin frazzling in the sun’s heat.

‘Okay, Tad,’ Pirelli say
s eventually.  ‘I want you to walk the rest of the way over to Kathy.’

I start to move forward.  Behind me I can hear the slam
ming of car doors, engines sparking into life.  Before I reach the far side they have already set off.  I’ve moved from the hands of one deranged criminal into the hands of another.  And Annabelle has gone the other way.  Hardly progress.

* * *

Kate/Kathy – I’m going to keep calling her Kate, that’s how I know her – is waiting at the open back door to the Taurus.  Some of her blond hair has fallen free and she brushes it over her ear with the hand holding Redneck’s blocky pistol.  She’s wearing dark jeans and a short sleeved, faded blue denim shirt, open to her sternum.  Despite the bruising around her jaw and on her arms she looks sexy in a kind of white trash, I’ll blow your fucking head off if you say the wrong thing, kind of way. 

You should have seen her when I first met her.
  Think Goddess in a short, electric blue dress.

‘Hello, Tadhg,’
she says, pulling a tight smile as I reach her.

‘Kate.’

‘You’re going to look like a lobster tomorrow.  If you last that long.’

She slams down the butt of the gun,
it glancing off the side of my head, thumping into my shoulder.

FUCK!

I duck backwards, stumbling, dropping onto the seat of my pants with a thwack.

O
uch!