“I don’t understand these people,” Twin said. “Apparently that honky doctor didn’t get our message, and he’s been out doing just what he damned well pleases. Can you believe it? I hit that sucker with just about everything I got, and three days later he’s giving us the finger. I don’t call that respect, no way.”
“The people want us to talk to him again?” Phil asked. He’d been on the visit to Jack’s apartment and witnessed how hard Twin had hit the man.
“Better than that,” Twin said. “They want us to ice the bastard. Why they didn’t have us do it the first time is anybody’s guess. They’re offering us five big ones.” Twin laughed. “Funny thing is, I would have done it for nothing. We can’t have people ignoring us. We’d be out of business.”
“Should we send Reginald?” Phil asked.
“Who else?” Twin questioned. “This is the kind of activity he loves.”
Phil got to his feet and ground out his cigarette. He left the office and walked down the litter-strewn hallway to the front room, where a half dozen members were playing cards. Cigarette smoke hung heavily in the air.
“Hey, Reginald,” Phil called out. “You up for some action?”
Reginald glanced up from his cards. He adjusted the toothpick protruding from his mouth. “It depends,” he said.
“I think you’d like this one,” Phil said. “Five big ones to do away with the doctor whose bike you got.”
“Hey, man, I’ll do it,” BJ said. BJ was the nickname for Bruce Jefferson. He was a stocky fellow with thighs as thick as Phil’s waist. He’d also been on the visit to Jack’s.
“Twin wants Reginald,” Phil said.
Reginald stood up and tossed his cards on the table. “I had a crap hand anyway,” he said. He followed Phil back to the office.
“Did Phil tell you the story?” Twin asked when they entered.
“Just that the doctor goes,” Phil said. “And five big ones for us. Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Twin said. “You gotta do a white chick too. Might as well do her first. Here’s the address.”
Twin handed over a scrap of paper with Beth Holderness’s name and address written on it.
“You care how I do these honkies?” Reginald asked.
“I couldn’t care less,” Twin said. “Just be sure you get rid of them.”
“I’d like to use the new machine pistol,” Reginald said. He smiled with the toothpick still stuck in the corner of his mouth.
“It’ll be good to see if it’s worth the money we paid for it,” Twin said.
Twin opened up one of the desk drawers and withdrew a new Tec pistol. It still had some packing grease on the handle. He gave the gun a shove across the desk. Reginald snapped it up before it got to the edge. “Enjoy yourself,” Twin added.
“I intend to,” Reginald said.
Reginald made it a point never to show any emotion, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel it. As he walked out of the building, his mood was soaring. He loved this kind of work. He unlocked the driver’s door of his jet-black Camaro and slipped in behind the wheel. He put the Tec pistol on the passenger seat and covered it with a newspaper. As soon as the motor was humming, he turned on his tape deck and pushed in his current favorite rap cassette. The car had a sound system that was the envy of the gang. It had enough sub-woofer power to loosen ceramic tile in whatever neighborhood Reginald cruised.
With one last glance at Beth Holderness’s address and with his head bobbing with the music, Reginald pulled away from the curb and headed uptown.
Beth hadn’t gone directly home. In her distressed state, she needed to talk with someone. She’d stopped at a friend’s house and even had had a glass of wine. After talking the situation over, she felt somewhat better, but was still depressed. She couldn’t believe she’d been fired. There was also the gnawing possibility that she’d stumbled onto something significant in the incubator.
Beth lived in a five-story tenement on East Eighty-third Street between First and Second Avenues. It wasn’t the greatest neighborhood, but it wasn’t bad either. The only problem was that her building was not one of the best. The landlord did the least possible in terms of repair, and there was always trouble with something. As Beth arrived, she saw there was a new problem. The outer front door had been sprung open with a crowbar. Beth sighed. It had happened before and it had taken three months for the landlord to fix it.