Hooligans Part 32

I stepped in behind him, grabbed a handful of jacket and collar, slammed him face-forward against the wall, bent his left arm behind him, reached under his arm, and relieved him of a Smith & Wesson .38.

"What'ya think yer doin'?" he whined.

I leaned close to his ear and put a rasp in my voice.

"You just took the words right out of my mouth," I whispered. "You've been following me for the last ten minutes. I don't think you're attracted to my beautiful eyes."

"Lemme go," he continued to whine.

I shoved his gun between his shoulder blades.

"You got a name?" I asked.

He paused and I shoved harder. He turned his face sideways, glared at me though yellow-flecked snake eyes, and snarled, "Harry Nesbitt."

"Just why are you so attracted to me, Harry?"

"I came to talk. Lemme loose."

"You talk with your arm?"

"You got the gun, hotshot."

"Yeah, and I'm kind of jumpy, homicide being the hottest game in town right now. Talk first."

"Look, all I'm doin' is a Western Union. You wanna listen or not. "

"I'm listening, Harry."

"Johnny O'Brian wants a meet."

"Is that a fact. And what's that to you?"

"I work for him."

"What do you do, carry his gun?"

"Very funny," he said, beginning to put an edge back into his voice. I let him go, slipped his gun into my belt, and backed away from the potted plants, out to the edge of the lobby.

"Do you mind," he said, his eyes beginning to dance around the room again. "O'Brian ain't anxious the whole f.u.c.kin' world should know we're talking."

"Uh-huh," I said.

He moved farther back among the plants.

"This joint is crawling with people," he said, although all I could see was one sleepy bellhop and a desk clerk who was busy sorting bills.

"Just speak your piece and s.h.a.g," I said.

"O'Brian says he'll meet you anywhere you say, any time. One on one. n.o.body knows but him and you."

"What about you? You going to get amnesia?"

"Cute." He chuckled. "Anyway, I already got it."

"And how do I contact O'Brian?"

"You don't. I do the go-between, okay? You tell me, I give it to the boss."

"And why should I trust you? Because I like your taste in ties?"

"Lookee here," said Nesbitt. "He wants to make a deal with you, okay? He ain't got nothing to do with this. .h.i.t parade goin' down."

"Now how would I know that?"

"Look, it comes to O'Brian that you heated up Cincy real good. It comes to O'Brian that you burned Skeet Tagliani and gave Uncle Franco and the rest of them a hotfoot there. It also comes to him that you're a stand-up guy when it comes to your word. He wants to do business. What's the matter, you got something against free enterprise?"

"Am I supposed to be flattered by all this?" I asked.

"You wanna talk or you wanna audition for vaudeville? O'Brian ain't lookin' for trouble, okay? Am I drifting your way?"

"Getting scared, is he?"

"O'Brian don't scare," Nesbitt said matter-of-factly.

"Pigs don't lie in the mud, either."

"Look, my boss don't go to the party empty-handed, know what I mean? You wanna be the smarta.s.s, don't wanna listen, f.u.c.k off."

I thought about it for a moment or two-not about meeting O'Brian, that was a gimme-but about where and when to meet him. It could be a setup, except there was no reason to set me up. Was he representing the family? Or was he free-lancing? What was he willing to talk about that could interest me? I was still guessing that O'Brian was running scared, looking for an umbrella to hide under.

"Does he know who scratched Tagliani and the rest?" I asked.

Nesbitt shifted from one foot to the other and sighed. "Whyn't yuh ask him? I told yuh, I'm just doin' a Western Union. I don't know s.h.i.t besides that and my orders are to forget it!"

"When?" I asked finally.

"Sooner the better."

"How's tomorrow morning sound?"

"Worse than now, better than later," he said with a shrug.

"It's too late to do anything now," I said. "It's got to be tomorrow, middle of the morning." I make a lot of bad decisions this late at night.

"That's the best you can do, that's the best you can do. You wanna pick the spot?"

I didn't know or remember the town well enough. I decided to test the water a little.

"Does...o...b..ian have a place in mind?"

"Yeah, but he don't want you should get nervous, him pickin' it out, I mean."

"Try me."

"He has this little fishing camp out on Skidaway. On the bay side, sits out over the water. It's private; his old lady don't even go out there. Also it has good sight lines; there ain't a blade of gra.s.s within twenty yards of the place."

I thought some more about it. It would have been smarter to leave then and follow Nesbitt to the meet, but I wanted to let somebody know where I was.

"Where is this place exactly?" I asked.

"You hang a right three blocks after you cross the bridge from Thunderhead to Oceanby. It's a mile or so down the road, on the bay, like I said. You can't miss it, the road ends there."

I studied him for a long minute, tugged my ear, and then nodded. "What's the name of the street?"

"Bayview."

"I have a breakfast appointment," I said. "It'll be about ten thirty."

"No problem, he's spending the night out there. Ten thirty." He smiled and held out his hand, palm up. "How about the piece?" he said.

I took out the revolver, loosened the retaining pin, dropped the cylinder into my palm, and handed him his gun.

"I'll give O'Brian the rest of it when I see him," I said.

His acne scars turned purple and pebbles of sweat began to ridge his forehead. He looked at me quizzically. "Why the bada.s.s act?" he said. "You don't have to prove how tough you are. Like I told ya, we know all about Cincy."

"I'm a cautious man," I said. "Too many people are dying in town right now."

"Did I lay any heat on you, Kilmer? No. I just come and delivered the message like I was supposed to. Y'know, I get caught in the middle of this thing, I'll end up in the bay, parley-vooin' with the f.u.c.kin' shrimps."

"That's your problem."

"So I come back with half a gun? It gets everything off on the wrong foot, know what I mean?"

I tossed him the cylinder for his .38 and he caught it without taking his yellow eyes off mine.

"You owe me one," I said.

"You talk to O'Brian, you'll be paid in spades," he said, and was gone, darting across the lobby like a dragonfly and out the nearest exit.

36.

BREAKFAST TALK.

There was a message in my box when I went down to meet Dutch the next morning. It was a handwritten note from Babs Thomas: "c.o.c.ktails in the penthouse tomorrow at 6. I expect you there. Love and kisses, B T."

She wasn't in the breakfast room but Dutch and Charlie One Ear were. I slid the note across the table to Dutch as I sat down. He read it and chuckled.

"You better be there," he said. "It's a felony in Doomstown to turn down a command performance from the d.u.c.h.ess."

"Just what I need," I said, "a freaking c.o.c.ktail party."

"Give you a chance to see how the other half lives," Charlie One Ear said without looking up from his fruit c.o.c.ktail.

"I don't like crowds," I said.

He looked up and smiled. "Perhaps it'll be just the two of you," he suggested.

That earned him a dirty look from me and a bit of contemplation from Dutch.

"Well," Dutch said, "you could do worse."

"Let's forget c.o.c.ktail parties for the moment," I said, ending the conjecture. "Something's come up. It could be our first real break. "

"Oh?" Dutch retorted.

"Johnny O'Brian sent one of his gunmen to see me last night. He wants to have a powwow. Sounds like he could be running scared. "

"Are you going to meet him?" Dutch asked.

"Yeah. At ten thirty. Do you have anybody on O'Brian's tail?"

He nodded. "Salvatore's doing the honors today."

"Has he reported in?"

"Do any of these guys ever report in?" Dutch said. "I can check the Warehouse and see, but I can tell you what the chances are."

"We've got to raise him," I said. "My deal is that I go alone. If O'Brian tumbles onto Salvatore it could blow the whole deal."

"I'll see what I can do," Dutch said, heading for the phone.

"Is that real smart?" Charlie One Ear asked.

"You mean going alone?"

He nodded. The muscles in his face had tightened up. I knew what he was thinking.

"Don't worry," I said. "If this is some kind of trap they wouldn't warn me first. They can't be that sure I won't have some kind of backup with me."

"You know this bunch better than I do," he answered, turning back to his breakfast. "But I wouldn't stray too far from the range, just in case."