The Stein & Candle Detective Agency, Vol. 3: Red Reunion (The Stein & Candle Detective Agency #3) (20 page)

“Chad, just forget it, okay?” Selena hissed quickly. She was staying next to Weatherby, her arm around his shoulder.

“Right. Sure.” Chad stepped away from the bar.

Soon enough, the door opened again and Boss Yamoto walked out. He had brutally short white hair, and an angry red face. He wore a perfectly creased double-breasted suit. A katana rested in his hands, and I knew that blade could come to life in an instant and put us in a world of hurt. He recognized me immediately, and his grip tightened on the handle of his sword.

“The gaijin from Tokyo!” he snarled, raising his sword. All of his gangsters followed his example, reaching for their heaters and blades. “You dare to come here, to my place of business? You insult me with your very presence!” He pointed to Selena and then to Adam. “And you bring some giant freak and a woman with you? Your disrespect will have a heavy price, Candle!”

I was gonna respond, but Selena beat me to it. “Please, Yamoto-San,” she said, bowing her head in a gesture of respect. “Our visit is purely honorable. And you must forgive my presence. We are in danger, and have to travel together.” She turned to me. “Candle-San would like to ask a boon of you. I beg you to grant it.”

She knew just the right words to say. Selena was smart as could be and an expert on world cultures. She knew that acting like a meek mouse would cool Yamoto’s fire. Sure enough, he relaxed his grip on his sword. He faced me. “Well,” he muttered. “What is it you want?”

“Passage out of the city. Either your men escort us or show us a safe way out,” I explained. I pointed to Adam. “I bet you already heard that Dr. Twist is looking for this guy. Don Vizzini found him – and earned a nice chunk of dough for handing him over. Except we stopped the deal. You want to hamstring Vizzini’s operations in this city, why don’t you help us out? I got the feeling you and the Bandaged Don ain’t best friends.”

Yamoto stared at me and didn’t say anything. He was waiting for the other foot to drop.

“And one more thing,” I said. “You’ll have me and the kid owing you a favor. I’m not exaggerating. That can be pretty goddamn valuable.”

That was the best pitch I could make. Now I waited, watching Yamoto’s craggy face as he decided to take us up on the offer – or dump us out the door and feed us to the sharks. Finally, Boss Yamoto gave a brief nod. “Very well. But do not think me a fool, Candle. When I ask for my favor, I will expect it to be performed.” He pointed to the door behind him. “There is an entrance to the sewers in this establishment. We use it to smuggle drugs for the lowlifes of the city. It leads out into the hills. Follow the tunnel, and you will be safe.”

“Sounds swell.” I patted Adam’s shoulder. “Doesn’t it, big man?” I started to the door, but then I heard Weatherby’s panicked cry.

I turned around and saw him pointing to the street. Three Packards were speeding our way, gunmen leaning out of the windows. Wagner Stein followed in a purple convertible, Joey Verona at the wheel. “Mort!” Weatherby cried. “They’re here!”

Their autos screamed to a stop before the bar, and then they started shooting. Windows cracked. The air burned. Several Yakuza dropped, shot to hell before they even had a chance to draw their heaters. I didn’t have time to reach Weatherby, but Adam did. He grabbed the kid and pushed him roughly to the ground, saving him from catching a volley of machine gun slugs.

I reached for my automatics and looked to the door in the back. We had to hurry. Vizzini’s torpedoes were already pouring out of the cars, charging the Yakuza saloon. I fired a couple shots at them, gunning down the unlucky bastard who was first through the door. Chad grabbed my arm and pulled me to the back door. Adam and Selena followed, the big man standing between Weatherby and the bullets. Just as we stepped into the back room, I saw Wagner Stein and Joey Verona leaving their car. We had made our deal just in time.

The back room for the Yakuza bar was a collection of contraband that would make Al Capone jealous. Stacks of guns and ammunition rested against the bare walls, next to bags of heroin, bottles of pills, and every other kind of drug a junkie could dream up. In the far corner, a hole through the cement led into the sewers, a rickety ladder providing access.

“Go, you troublesome gaijin!” Yamoto cried. “I can cover the hole and hide it once you are gone! You will not be followed!”

I moved to the sewer entrance. “Wait,” Chad said. He looked sadly at the sewers. “They must have men in the outskirts of town, up in the hills. They’ll be watching for us, and they’ll get us right when we come out!”

“And I’ll be ready for them,” I said, holding up my pistol. “Now shut up and get in the sewers. Sorry about your expensive socks getting ruined, but that’s the way it’s gotta be.”

“But you might lose, Morton,” Chad pointed out. “And Weatherby or Selena could pay the price.” He looked over his shoulder. “I got an idea. I’ll slip out the window, get into the alley, and circle around. The mobsters will all be looking into the bar, so they’ll have their backs to me. I’ll get into the Roadmaster and drive away. They’ll think we took off in the car and give chase. That way, there forces will be divided. You, Adam, Selena and Weatherby can slip away.”

I considered his idea. Normally, I’d consider anything Chad said to be the result of rich kid idiocy and too much bad beatnik poetry. But this made solid sense. I reached for the keys. “You sure you can handle it?” I asked. “They’ll chase after you. They won’t be happy.”

“Hey, I used to tool around in my dad’s Rolls Royce all the time. I can handle your heap.” Chad was confident, but Selena and Weatherby weren’t.

Selena didn’t say anything. She just wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close to her. She closed her eyes tightly. There was nothing she could say.

Weatherby shook his head, in staunch refusal. “I can’t allow such an action, Chad!” he cried. “You’ve endangered yourself enough for Selena and myself, and there’s no call to place yourself in the line of fire, not for my sake! Please, think of another option!”

“Come on, little man,” Chad replied. “You and Selena are worth defending.”

I happened to look at Adam. He was watching everything with his dark eyes. I wondered if he recognized the compassion, the kindness and the love that was between Weatherby, Selena and Chad. I figured those things were as far from his life as the stars were from the ground. But he could still recognize them.

The hulking brute nodded to Chad. “Thank you,” he grunted. It was the first words of gratitude Adam had shown. “You are risking your life for me. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Chad agreed and looked at Weatherby and Selena. “And it’s for them too.” He waved goodbye to Weatherby and Selena, and dashed for the back.

While we had our conversation, the Yakuza in the bar were struggling to repel the mobsters. Boss Yamoto impatiently fiddled with his katana. “You have tarried enough!” he cried, pointing to the sewer entrance. “Leave now!”

“Way ahead of you,” I said, and hopped into the sewer.

Weatherby and Selena followed. Selena was still looking after her boyfriend. She was worried and nervous, and Weatherby did his best to calm her down, assuring her that Chad knew what he was doing as we stepped ankle-deep in sewage. Adam didn’t say anything. He was the last to drop down. Before he did, I saw him reaching into one of the wooden crates and grab something. When he landed in front of me, I saw what they were – a pair of tommy guns.

“Getting some souvenirs?” I asked.

“Something like that,” he replied, slinging both guns over his shoulder.

We started moving, hurrying down into the sewer. It was a single gray tunnel, illuminated by little lines of sunlight that crept in through storm drains and manholes.  The ceiling was low and the place stank to high hell, but nobody complained. We walked on, and the sounds of gunfire faded away.

Selena stayed close to Weatherby. “Damn it,” she hissed. “Why do all the men I love have to be so goddamn noble?”

“They wouldn’t be the men you love if they weren’t,” I pointed out.

“Maybe.” She turned to me, her voice echoing through the dim tunnels of the sewer. “You know what I want, Morton? More than anything? A quiet life. Where I can live with Chad and grow old in peace. Where I can watch Weatherby grow up, find the nice girl that he deserves and start his own family. That’s what I hope for, with all of my heart.”

“At least you got that hope, sister.” I looked at Adam as he trundled ahead, blindly moving through the tunnel. “Some folks ain’t even got that.” I’m not sure if I was talking about Adam or myself.

We kept on walking through the sewer, none of us saying much. It was a dirty, rotten journey. But we never strayed too far from the sunlight.

After maybe an hour or so of crawling through the muck, we came to an open manhole, another ladder allowing easy access. This must be where the Yakuza dope smugglers made their way into the sewers. We clambered out, stepping into the sun. Like Boss Yamoto said, it opened up into an empty street in the green rolling hills around San Francisco. The fog had blown away and the sun was shining. I felt its warmth, welcome as a lover’s hands after slogging through the sewer.

Adam, Selena and Weatherby followed me. “We’ve made it,” Weatherby said, allowing himself a little smile. “But where’s Chad? Did he make it?” There was real concern in his voice. Weatherby was growing fond of Chad. I had to admit, I was too. I didn’t like the fact that he was missing.

I turned around and looked at the street. It dipped down the slope of a hill, leading to the city. Dust was riding on the slope. Someone was coming. “Hold on,” I said. “An auto’s heading our way. Could be Chad in the Roadmaster.”

We all turned to watch, Selena clasping her hands together and breathing shallowly. But the car that came up the hill wasn’t red – but a bold, noxious purple. It was Dr. Twist’s corvette. Joey Verona was behind the wheel, smiling at us. He held up something – Chad Albright’s dark leather jacket. I raised my automatics. It took everything I had not to plant a bullet in Verona’s screwed up face.

“Hello, hello, everyone!” Joey Verona laughed. “I gotta tell you, your nancy boyfriend led us on quite a merry chase. Two of Vizzini’s boilers got trashed trying to catch him. But catch him we did.” He cocked his head at Selena, taking on a tone of mock sympathy. “Ah, what’s a matter? Selena missing her boy-toy?”

“Go to Hell, you monster!” Selena replied.

“There’s no call for that kind of language,” Verona replied. “Especially when you’re buddying up with something like Adam.” He tossed the jacket at our feet. “I’m no monster – and I don’t work for one either. Dr. Twist wants to make a deal. Hand over Adam and you’ll get your little boyfriend back.” He jabbed a thumb behind him. “We’re in a warehouse at the bottom of the hill. Drop by and say hello, whenever you want. We’ll be waiting.”

Before I could respond, Joey Verona twisted the wheel and spun his convertible around. I pulled Selena back, stopping his car from clipping her as it roared down the hill. Selena pulled away from me, and watched Verona go.

“Bastard,” she whispered. “What an unrepentant fiend.”

Weatherby hurried to her side. “We’ll think of something. We’ll think of some way to rescue Chad, I’m sure of it.” He turned to me. “Don’t you have a plan, Mort? Surely, you must have some scheme that can save Chad, without endangering Adam.”

I thought for a little. I didn’t have anything. “They’ll be on their guard and expecting something. Wagner’s no sap, kiddo.” I looked at Selena and sighed. “I’m sorry, sister. I don’t know what to do.”

“Why not turn me over?” Adam asked.

We all stared at him. Weatherby answered. “We won’t do that. We shall not agree to their demands, Adam, not for anything. Wagner Stein is traitorous and evil. He’ll certainly attempt to slaughter Chad, Selena, Mort and myself even after we attempt to surrender you. But even if he was trustworthy, Selena and I won’t stand to see an innocent harmed. My parents taught me that well, in life and death.”

“I’m far from innocent,” Adam replied.

Selena shook her head. “You have goodness in your nature, Adam. Johan Stein couldn’t see it, perhaps because he was distraught and terrified. The peasants of the village couldn’t see it. But I can, and Weatherby can. Chad did, as well. That’s why he risked his life for you. We won’t make the mistakes of our ancestors. We won’t hand you over to Wagner.”

Adam still had the tommy guns slung around his shoulders. He gripped their handles. “Morton,” he said. “Give me your coat.”

“What, are you cold or something?” I slipped out of my trench coat. He gripped it with his rough hands, and slipped it over his shoulders, not putting his hands in the sleeves. It hung down, just covering his sides – and the tommy guns.

I smiled as I realized what his idea was. “You’re smarter than you look, big man.” I turned back to Selena and Weatherby. “Okay, kiddo,” I said. “We’re gonna go and rescue Chad. I’d recommend you and the little lady stay here and—”

“Not a chance,” Weatherby said, and Selena nodded her agreement.

“Fine.” I turned around and faced the slope of the hill. Adam was already walking down, my trench coat flapping over his shoulders. I hurried over to stand next to him. “Hold up, big man,” I said. “It won’t work unless they think we’re dragging you in against your will. If they see you waltz in by yourself, they’ll just figure you went crazy.” I looked him over. “And for all I know, you have. Why are you walking into the lion’s den for this hipster, Adam? You don’t even know the guy.”