Before Jack could answer, there was commotion behind him and someone
roughly bumped him to the side. Another person shouted: ‘Nobody move!’
Jack recovered from his momentary confusion to comprehend that three
African-Americans had leaped into the room, each armed with machine
pistols. The guns were trained unwaveringly on Franco and Angelo. These
newcomers were all dressed in basketball gear, and Jack quickly
recognized them. It was Flash, David, and Spit, all of whom were still
sweating from activity on the playground.
Franco and Angelo were taken completely unawares. They simply sat there,
eyes wide. Since they were accustomed to being on the other side of
lethal weapons, they knew enough not to move.
For a moment there was frozen silence. Then Warren strutted in. ‘Man,
Doc, keeping you alive has become a full-time job, you know what I’m
saying? And I’m going to have to tell you, you’re dragging down the
neighborhood, bringing in this kind of white trash.’
Warren took the machine pistol away from Spit and told Spit to frisk the
visitors. Wordlessly, Spit relieved Angelo of his Walther auto pistol.
After frisking Franco, he collected the gun from the coffee table.
Jack noisily let out a breath of air. ‘Warren, old sport, I don’t know
how you manage to drop in on such a timely basis in my life, but it’s
appreciated.’
‘These scumbags were seen casing this place earlier tonight,’ Warren
explained. ‘It’s as if they think they’re invisible, despite their
expensive threads and that big, black, shiny Cadillac. It’s kind of a
joke.’
Jack rubbed his hands together in appreciation of the sudden change of
power. He asked Angelo and Franco their names but got cold stares in
return.
‘That one is Angelo Facciolo,’ Laurie said, while pointing toward her
nemesis.
‘Spit, get their wallets,’ Warren ordered.
Spit complied and read out their names and addresses. ‘Uh-oh, what’s
this?’ he questioned when he opened the wallet containing the Ozone Park
police badge. He held it up for Warren to see.
‘They’re not police officers,’ Warren said with a wave of dismissal.
‘Don’t worry.’
‘Laurie,’ Jack said. ‘I think it’s time to give Lou a call. I’m sure
he’d like nothing better than to talk with these gentlemen. And tell him
to bring the paddy wagon in case he’d like to invite them to stay the
night at the city’s expense.’
Laurie disappeared into the kitchen.
Jack walked over to Angelo and towered above him.
‘Stand up,’ Jack said.
Angelo got to his feet and glowered insolently at Jack. To everyone’s
surprise, especially Angelo, Jack sucker punched him as hard as he could
in the face. There was a crunching sound as Angelo was knocked backward
over the sofa to land in a heap on the floor.
Jack winced, cursed, and grabbed his hand. Then he shook it up and down.
‘Jeez,’ he complained. ‘I’ve never hit anybody like that. It hurts!’
‘Hold up,’ Warren warned Jack. ‘I don’t like beatin’ on these dog turds.
It’s not my style.’
‘I’m all done,’ Jack said, still shaking his injured hand. ‘You see,
that dog turd on the other side of the couch beat up on Laurie earlier
this evening after they broke into her apartment. I’m sure you noticed
her face.’
Angelo pushed himself up to a sitting position. His nose angled to the
right. Jack invited him to come back around the couch and sit down.
Angelo moved slowly, while cupping his hand beneath his nose to catch
the dripping blood.
‘Now, before the police get here,’ Jack said to the two men, ‘I’d like
to ask you guys again about what you’re afraid Laurie and I might learn.
What is going on with this Franconi nonsense?’
Angelo and Franco stared at Jack as if he weren’t there. Jack persisted
and asked what they knew about Franconi’s liver, but the men remained
stone silent.
Laurie returned from the kitchen. ‘I got Lou,’ she reported. ‘He’s on
his way, and I have to say he’s excited, especially about the Vido
Delbario tip.’
An hour later, Jack found himself comfortably ensconced in Esteban
Ndeme’s apartment along with Laurie and Warren.
‘Sure, I’ll have another beer,’ Jack said in response to Esteban’s