SNUFF (h.s.)

Chapter 08

Growl Like A Ghoul

This was no fucking hammam.

If Harry had floured himself in hard rock, his smug wouldn't be this messed up. Covered in plaster and dust he coughed and in front of him raised a tiny flurry of flattened wall. The sledgehammer wasn't different from the shovel in his hand except from this time he wasn't going to bury some poor bastard. This time he didn't he was no digger.

Sergio wiped his forehead and lit an "Apache" panatella that looked like a Pillsbury space stick, well maybe it was more like a salted stick. Both of them were like sprinkled sugar on qurabiya but they weren't there for rififi.

The wall had a large gap as if they had just discovered the biggest rathole in the house. Goddamn it, this certainly was no fucking hammam neither did it look like a goldmine! Harry gave it a good hit and a large part collapsed on his feet.

"This ain't Sandro's head", Sergio blew the smoke and tipped the butt to throw the ashes on the plastic sheet over the carpet, "Take it easy"

"Believe me, Sergio", he sighed and cleaned the plaster remains from the hole, "When I tell you I bury him for free, I mean it. It doesn't have to be your birthday"

"Don't be hasty to bury people", Sergio was like an almond pear – Harry thought that he wouldn't deny such a delight. All it takes to enjoy these treats is a bite. Nora wasn't shooting today, she was writing all morning in his studio. Sergio's house was big enough for only these three today if he wanted the job done, "We all have our time"

"What does this mean?", he voice was hopeful, he waited to hear the greatest news.

"Nobody lives twice, that's what it means. So, don't be hasty. Computers won't take your job", Harry took a look at the hollow circle and nodded. If he was in prison, this would be the largest hole possible someone could dig to hit the road. But he'd never been in the cooler so how could he know? Yet it was better than any of the Dalton's! He shouldn't forget to get some of these "Apaches" with Jack on the pack.

"We've found a nice spot us two, huh? Whoever has a gun and a shovel can sleep with both eyes closed?", Sergio laughed with his hand on his crossed leg. They were like two grubbers at a building site who didn't ask for more than a few cheap thrills, like Pearl says.

Harry wasn't looking at the man who had organized a Roman feast at his disco or his backyard around the overflowing pool. He wasn't looking at the man who raises the gun or breaks teeth with his golden rings. For the first time, Sergio didn't differ from those who lived on the other side of Roseville.

"The job is as old as death", he got up to examine the hole, "Grab the bag and keep it wide open", he kneeled and started picking the rubble. He was gathering them without dropping a single speck of dust from his hands. He seemed to be the expert. Harry didn't know much about him. He saw how he was methodic, how he was fast but not hasty. His movement almost robotic, as if he had remembered some old craft he had left behind for long time.

Harry took a lottery out of his pocket and left it on the table. Sergio looked askance at it with the small cigar in his mouth. All Harry had were some cheap cigarillos. This job was done until midday, otherwise Harry would have to be there until late noon. Sergio was no slacker.

"Still throwing around your money?"

"This is better than an unlucky trick-taking game"

"Ah...", Sergio mumbled, "So you've figured this out?"

"I don't go at the betting shop and I left coon-can to the ladies", he waved his shoulders and gripped the bag, "A lottery is no big deal"

"Whether you cut some blow or you like how the new deck cards slide, I know that the player's not the lucky dog", he was cleaning with a little broom and a dustpan. He was moving without interrupting his pace whenever he spoke. Harry was watching.