GUMSHOES

Chapter 10 - Loyalties Tested

Max sat on the stool at his workbench, watching Fletcher wander around the shop, arms raised, ranting, and swearing.

"You're gonna burst a vessel, Gary."

" Jesús, that would be a friggin' blessing compared to what Hardy is going to do to me."

"It's not your fault the client doesn't want to look like an old man. Tell her to find her own way if she's so goddamn vain."

"Easy for you to say. They paid big bucks for this extraction, Max. And now they want it back."

"So tell them to get her in line, it isn't your fault. Didn't they ask for a foolproof disguise? Let me tell you, pal, that's what they got, and if she's too stupid to use it for the length of time it will take, then I'd bloody well leave her to her fate down there."

Fletcher stared at his supplier, his head shaking in disbelief. "What you don't get, Max, is that Hardy doesn't care two hoots about the dame. Hardy doesn't want to give the money back. What Hardy cares about is the threat that two of their hit men are coming here to get it, and Hardy is serving notice to me - and you, Max."

"The hell you talkin' about?"

"He'll serve us up like a party cake with sparklers to these guys."

"That's nuts! What the hell can we do?"

"I don't know, but I do know he isn't kidding around. We need to disappear."

Max got off the stool, hand on hips. "That's bullshit, Gary and if you think I'm taking the hit for this mess, think again."

"If it isn't these goons, Max, it'll be Donnie, or one of his crew."

"I was hired to do a job, I did it, got paid, end of story - and end of conversation. Out Gary, and don't come back."

"Max, Max, what'll I do?"

"I'll give you a mask on the house. Who do you want, Abe Lincoln or Popeye?"

"Max!"

"Out. Now."

******

Hardy Menken pushed away his unfinished dish of Arepa Santandereana, and dipped his finger in the accompanying bowl of Haguo, licking it clean before rising from the table.

"Get him on the secure phone, and make sure it's DeTega and not some flunky."

His flunky nodded and quickly rushed to the cabinet with Hardy's secure phone and placed the call. A moment later the rough voice came over the speakerphone, demanding the reason for the call.

"DeTega, shut up and listen good. You asked for a guaranteed extraction, and we provided a foolproof plan. If your client is too stupid to realize that, then that's on her and you. If I find your people gunning for me, I will personally bag them and mail them home, then I will extract you, and believe me, you won't like it where I dump you."

There was arguing and shouting on the other end, obviously Hardy was on speakerphone too. After a moment it stopped at the roared command, 'Silencio!'

"We have reasoned with Don Parco and she has come to see the wisdom of our plan, and has begun the trip by train and bus . . . unfortunately my uh- my - people - have been dispatched with strict orders to cease all communication until they return . . ."

Hardy dipped another finger full of sauce. "Unfortunate for them."

"I cannot stop them now from here, but they are Raphael Ortega, and Jesús (Hey-soos) Amano. Jesús is my sister's son, so if you could see your way--"

"I'll double bag him. Goodbye, DeTega." Hardy wiped fingers past his throat to signal the call ended.

Hardy beckoned his accountant, Owen, and gave him instructions as to the expected hit men. All ports of entry and modes of transport would be examined, and when they were discovered, his own men would be dispatched.

"Find Fletcher and tell him I want a picture of that mask, and get copies to the men. Don Parco is going to be a guest until this is all over."

"But where will I look, boss?"

Hardy just glowered and Owen fled the room.

******

Wendell backed slowly away from the advancing Donnie, frantically trying to recall the course instruction for such a situation. Wearing an apron to protect his clothes didn't help, he saw the sneer on the thug's face.

"You got a nerve busting in like that," he tried, in a snarl.

"Really? Did I upset you, dear?" Donnie's mouth spread wide in an evil grin.

Wendell snatched the apron off and tossed it aside, feeling the edge of the washer against his backside.

"Before I take you apart, you're gonna give me all the material you have here on the case your old man was workin' on."

"I keep everything at my office." Wendell chewed the skin on the inside of his mouth.

"Been there. Done that. You keep squat at your office. I want the disks for that computer."

Wendell winced as Donnie stepped closer. His fingers danced around the top of the washer behind him, grasping the scoop full of detergent.

"I don't use that any more, the drive is broken."

"Well looks like you're gonna join it then." Donnie reached for Wendell and yelped as the shower of soap granules hit him in the eyes and mouth. He swore and knuckled at the stinging pain, his balance back on his heels.

Wendell braced himself against the washer and, with his foot, shoved Donnie backwards and into a heap under the laundry tubs. He attempted to jump over the sprawled figure and tripped, ploughing up the hall runner in waves with his face. A sudden grip on his ankle was followed by more swearing, and he grasped at the door frame, frantically trying to avoid being pulled back.

He rolled over and began kicking with his free foot. Donnie was on his knees, one hand, a vice on his ankle, the other warding off the kicks. Donnie's eyes were red and wet from tears, and he was spitting out bits of soap as he growled his intentions.

Wendell banged the heel of his shoe on Donnie's hand, and it released the ankle instantly, and he scrabbled his way down the hall on his back. He managed to get to his feet as Donnie lunged once again, and he yanked open the hall closet door, ringing it off the oncoming, snarling face. Donnie went down like a ball of wet mud, furthering the damage to his battered face.

Wendell watched him for a moment, satisfied he was breathing but not moving, then ran to the phone.

"Dankworth and Weeble."

"Jerome? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, why? I've been clean--"

Wendell rushed through what had happened and waited.

"Jerome? Jerome you still there?"

"You didn't kill him."

"No, no. He's out cold but he's bleeding all over the floor."

"You gotta move him, man, and before Audrey gets home."

"Move him! You saw the size of this guy in the photo. I couldn't lift him with two of me. You gotta get home and help me."

"Wrap him up, I'll be there as soon as I can."

Wrap him up?