Tony left the used syringe on the coffee table and put the rest of his paraphernalia back into the doctor’s bag. At the same time he took out a small glassine envelope. Going back to Kendall, he poured a small amount of the white powder into Kendall’s nostrils. Then he dabbed a little onto his thumb and snorted it. “I love leftovers,” he said with glee.
“Stay away from that stuff!” Angelo commanded.
“Couldn’t resist,” Tony said. He put the glassine envelope next to the used syringe. “What do you think, into the fridge with him?”
“Let’s skip it,” Angelo said. “I was talking with Doc about it. He says that as long as the body’s not out longer than twelve hours we’re okay. And the way we’ve been working this, everybody’s been found way before twelve hours.”
Tony looked around. “Did I get everything?”
“Looks good,” Angelo said. “Let’s sit down and see how Kendall likes his trip.”
Tony sat on the couch while Angelo sat in the armchair that Kendall had been occupying.
“Nice apartment,” Tony said. “What do you say we glance around a little to see if there’s anything we might want to pick up?”
“How many times do I have to tell you: we don’t take anything when we do these drug trips.”
“Such a waste,” Tony said wistfully as he surveyed the room.
A few minutes later, Kendall stirred and smacked his lips. Moaning, he rolled over on his stomach.
“Hey, Kendall, baby,” Tony called. “How you feel? Talk to me!”
Kendall pushed himself up to a sitting position. He had a blank expression on his pale face.
“How is it?” Tony asked. “With as much snow as you got coursing through those veins, you must be in heaven.”
Without any warning, Kendall vomited onto the rug.
“Oh, God!” Tony cried as he scrambled out of the way. “This is disgusting.”
Kendall coughed violently, then looked up at Tony and Angelo. His eyes were glazed. He looked confused.
“How do you feel?” Angelo asked.
Kendall’s mouth tried to form words, but the man seemed utterly incapable of them. Suddenly his eyes rolled back so that only the whites were showing and he began to convulse.
“That’s our cue,” Angelo said. “Let’s get out of here.”
Tony picked up the doctor’s bag and followed Angelo to the door. Angelo peered through the peephole. With no one in sight, he opened the door and stuck his head out.
“Hallway’s clear,” he said. “Come on!”
They exited the apartment quickly and ran to the stairwell. Descending a single floor, they relaxed and waited for the elevator.
“Are you hungry?” Tony asked.
“A little,” Angelo said.
To avoid being seen by the doorman, they got off the elevator on the first floor and returned to the stairwell. They exited the building via the service entrance.
Arriving at the car, Angelo stopped. He was astonished. “Look at this!” he said. “I can’t believe it. We got a ticket. Some nerve. I hope the cop who gave us this never tries to bring his car out to Ozone Park.”
“So what’s next?” Tony asked as soon as they were seated in the car. “Another job or dinner?”
“I don’t know what you like more,” said Angelo, shaking his head, “whacking or eating.”
Tony smiled. “Depends on my mood.”
“I think we should do the other hit,” Angelo said. “Then when we stop to eat it will be just about the right time to call back here to tell the doorman about noises coming from 25G.”
“Let’s do it,” Tony said. He sat back. With his snort of cocaine, he felt great. In fact, he felt like he could do anything in the world.
As Angelo pulled away from the curb, Franco Ponti put his own car in gear. He allowed several cars to pass before pulling out into Fifth Avenue traffic. He’d watched while Angelo and Tony picked the jogger up in the park and escorted him back to his apartment. Although he hadn’t been privy to what had transpired in the apartment, he thought he could guess. But the real question wasn’t what had happened, but why?
14
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