eleven

Mallen sat beside Gato as they drove down 24th, heading east toward Lucky Street. After they’d returned to Gato’s place, his friend had changed into his “work clothes”: all black. Mallen knew he’d be happy with any catch tonight: Teddy Mac, Carpy, or maybe one or both of the men who’d jumped them.

Gato had left him at the curb outside his apartment building. Was gone for about ten minutes after telling him to wait. He finally showed up with a new set of wheels: a 1970s honey-yellow, metal-flake Dodge Challenger. Wouldn’t say where he got it from when Mallen asked. Probably guzzled gas like an alcoholic guzzles vodka, but it was also probably as fast as anything on the road. Carried a 440 six-pack under the hood that growled a deep, throaty rumble that Mallen could feel through the padded leather seat. Gato’d assured him it wasn’t stolen. They then headed out to the building Gato’s contact had told them about.

They were cruising over to Lucky Street when Gato said suddenly and quietly, “That’s him.” Indicated a liquor store down the street on his left. “I just saw Carpy go inside. I’m positive. You want to follow him when he comes out?”

“Yeah. But pull over and park as soon as you can. He got there on foot, so we’ll also do it on foot. Wait for him to come out.” The parking gods were with them: Gato was able to park the car almost immediately. He pulled out a blue handicapped placard from the glove box and hooked it behind the rearview.

“Hey, bro, it comes with the car, okay?” Gato said in response to Mallen’s expression.

From where they were, they had a good view of the liquor store door. After a few moments Carpy came out, shoving a bottle into his coat pocket. In his other hand was a box of donuts. A junkie’s dinner, Mallen thought as he watched Carpy amble off down the street toward them.

“Shit,” he said to Gato, “get down!” Both men hunkered down as far as they could, the darkness of the car’s interior and the color of their clothes hiding them. They waited until Carpy got to the end of the block before they quietly got out. “I’ll stick behind him,” he told Gato, “you follow across the street. We’ll switch up every three blocks. He knows us, so don’t get itchy and try to push it, okay?”

“Got it,” Gato replied as they took off after their quarry.

It was an easy tail job. At first. However, Carpy seemed to get more and more careful as he went. Would quickly check over his shoulder. Would stop suddenly and tie his shoe. Mallen figured he was getting closer to wherever the fuck he was staying, so was getting more worried about a tail. The junkie also started to take sudden turns, only to turn back after a block. It was then that he realized Carpy was doing wide circles as they slowly moved in a southerly direction. He hoped Carpy was leading them to some bolt-hole of Teddy Mac’s. Fuck man, he’d be pretty damn happy if it were just Carpy’s digs. At the least, he was going to take Carpy’s bottle from him. Consider it payment, you little piece of shit.

After another four blocks of useless meandering, Carpy turned left on 26th. Headed east. Gato and Mallen switched sides of the street. He watched as Carpy went another few blocks and turned north onto Lucky Street. Mallen smiled at that. Hoped it would be lucky for them, not for Carpy.

Turned out it was lucky for Carpy. They came around the corner only to see Carpy approach two men who sat on the stoop of a dark, quiet three-story apartment building. Even with the low light, Mallen recognized that one of the men was the guy who beat on him. He motioned across the street for Gato to hang back. Stepped into a dark patch near the entry to a closed-up business. Carpy and the two men talked for a moment, then Carpy went inside while the two men stayed where they were.

So, Carpy had guards. A junkie with bodyguards.

Mallen snuck back down the street. Crossed over to the other side, using the traffic on the street for cover. Made his way to where Gato was stationed.

“Fuckin’ Carpy, vato,” Gato said, “what kind of world do we live in where even junkies have bodyguards?” He grinned then in the darkness. Made Mallen think of the Cheshire Cat. “Vato, we need to pay those dos pendejo de mierdas back for my lip and your face.”

“We do, but we need Carpy more. Those assholes can wait, if at all possible. If they alert Carpy, we’re dead in the water, yeah? That loser would really go to ground. I’m sure the only reason he’s staying around is because all his connections are here.”

“So, what’s your plan?”

“Workin’ on it, workin’ on it.” Mallen wracked his brains for an idea. It took about a minute, but then it came to him. “Look,” he said, “we gotta draw ’em off. Once they leave the stoop, we’ll be ready to enter the building.”

“How do we do that? Man, you sound like some guy in a gangster flick.”

“Get the car alarms going,” he replied. Gato smiled, obviously enjoying the plan. The street was little more than an alley, but there were cars parked along its entire length. They went to the two nearest cars, glad they were newer models. Kept low. Each man took a car. Put his back up against it. Mallen then nodded and they rocked the cars back and forth. The alarms cut through the night as they moved forward and set the next two alarms going. Then they went on quietly, keeping low, maneuvering up the street. Kept their eyes on the two men who were now standing, wondering what the fuck was going on.

“I don’t think it’s going to work,” Gato whispered to him. He picked up a nearby bottle. “This might help,” he said as he threw it back near the cars they’d just set off. The bottle smashed to the sidewalk, barely audible above the noise, but high enough in the sound range to stand out. The two guards moved forward, wanting to check on things. They slowly prowled to the opposite side of the street, one pulling a gun. As soon as they had the chance, Mallen and Gato whispered across the pavement and made their way into the building’s dark lobby, quietly shutting the door behind them.

“Dude,” Gato said, “that was fucking killer.”

“Yeah. Nice work there,” he said back, smiling with the energy of a mission going well.

“Which apartment do you think he’s in?”

“Dunno, let’s start at the top, and—” Stopped when he heard the two guards already coming back up the steps. Mallen grabbed Gato and dragged him to the stairs that led to the basement. They huddled there in the darkness, out of visual range.

“Man,” they heard one of the men say, “some shit is up. I’m sure of it.”

“Yeah, most probs. Go tell him, man. Stay up there near him for a bit,” answered the other man. Mallen recognized the second voice. It belonged to the man who’d beat on him. Heavy footsteps trudged up the stairs over their heads, then after a moment, went up another flight. Two flights up. The man in the lobby was alone now. The front door opened, then closed. Mallen crawled up the stairs. Peered out from around the railing. He could see the man through the front door glass as he stood there, lighting a cigarette, back to the door.

He leaned close to Gato. Spoke quietly. “Move to the door when I do. Quietly. I’ll rip it open, and you handle him any way you want, but non-lethal and silent-like, yeah? We need to speak to him.”

His friend nodded in reply. Pulled out the brass knuckles. Shoved them tight onto his right hand.

Mallen stepped out into the lobby. Padded over the carpet, Gato behind him and to his right. They easily reached the door. Mallen gripped the knob. Nodded at Gato, who hunkered down, ready to pounce. The door opened with only a faint creak of hinges and Gato leapt out in a flash before the man could turn. The brass knuckles slammed into the man’s kidneys as Gato gave the punch everything he had. The man groaned and collapsed into Mallen’s arms. He put the man’s right arm in a brutal twist. The guy could barely stand from the punch, and they had trouble keeping him on his legs. Fucker’s kidneys were probably bruising a deep purple right about now. They dragged him back inside the lobby. Took him down the stairs to the basement. It was a labyrinth of halls and boarded-up doors. Found a secluded corner toward the back of the building and threw their prisoner to the ground.

The guy looked up at Mallen with glazed eyes, still dumb from the pain. It was indeed the guy who’d attacked him. Mallen bunched up his fist, thinking back to the beating. Slammed the man in the nose. He hadn’t hit anyone that hard in over four years, easy. There was the crack of cartilage as the nose broke. For a moment he thought he’d popped a knuckle. Blood poured from the man’s smashed nose. The man went to put a hand up to his face, but Gato slapped it away.

“Choke on your own blood, motherfucker,” he said.

“Yeah, but not before you talk to me,” Mallen added.

The man weakly shook his head. “Not talkin’ to you, man. You dead men,” he said weakly.

“Yeah? Carpy that connected, huh?”

“Ain’t sayin’ shit, asshole.”

Mallen looked at Gato. Shrugged. “Hurt him.”

Gato took the man’s left hand. Gripped the middle and ring fingers. Pushed the fingers slowly backward until the air was cut by a soft popping sound as the bones broke. The man groaned in agony, tried to stop Gato by reaching out with his free hand, but Mallen pushed it to the ground. Shoved it under the heel of his boot. Stood on it. “It’ll be a year before you use your hands again if you don’t answer questions, fuckhead. Where’s Teddy Mac?” he said.

“Go fuck your mother,” came the strangled reply. There was a harsh snap, and the man cried out as two more fingers broke.

“Oh, sorry,” Gato said. “I lost control, pendejo. But that’s not a nice thing to say. I always seem to lose control when people tell me to fuck my saintly madre.”

“Where’s Teddy Mac?” Mallen said quietly. “We want to talk to him, is all.”

“Don’t know, man. I swear I don’t!” Gato took hold of the last unbroken finger on his right hand. The thumb. Their prisoner looked ready to piss himself.

“Carpy knows though, doesn’t he?” No response to this. Mallen leaned more weight on the man’s wrist with his boot. “Look, asshole, I’m through fucking around. If you don’t tell me, I’ll have my friend here cut your thumbs off. Try jackin’ without a thumb, fuckhead.”

The man got it then. Nodded wearily, “Okay, okay … Carpy knows where his brother is. There’s some trouble goin’ down. Bad trouble. Lots of guys after Teddy Mac. What I hear, he took something that don’t belong to him. There’s only two ways out of it for him now: cops or dead.”

“What did he take?”

“I don’t know. Think Carpy does.”

Gato leaned in, gripping two of the broken fingers in his hand. “Look, man, you hear anything about one of Teddy’s stable? A girl named Lupe? Nobody’s seen her for a long time.”

The man thought for a moment. Shook his head. Gato squeezed the fingers together. The man bit his lip against the pain, a low painful moan escaping through like the hiss of a teakettle. “You sure?” Gato said quietly. The man nodded, the veins on his forehead standing out. Gato released the fingers, then looked over at Mallen.

“Good night,” Mallen said and clocked the man in the temple with the butt of the .38. The man was unconscious before his head hit the cement floor with a dull thud.

“Were you really going to tell me to cut off his thumbs?” Gato said as he pulled the brass knuckles off, flexing his fingers before putting them back on.

Mallen shook his head in response. “I’m not about that. But they don’t need to know that, right?”

Gato crossed himself. “Like I’ve said: I knew there was a good heart beatin’ in that chest, vato.”

They left after Mallen took the man’s cell phone and the clip to his gun, and had thrown a dirty tarp over him. He’d be out for a while. They went quietly back up the stairs. Mallen knew the other man had gone past the second floor. Sounded like he stopped on the third. At the second level, Mallen stopped and opened the cell phone he’d just taken. Checked the call log. The most recent call was marked “Pit.” He dialed it. They heard a ringing upstairs. The man was indeed standing guard.

“Trav, what up?” Pit said, his voice coming from both upstairs and the phone.

“Pit,” he said into the phone in a hoarse voice. “Man! Fuckers … knifed me. Help me, man! Downstairs!” He cut off the call, pulling the .38, waiting for Pit to make an appearance. Pit didn’t disappoint. He could hear Pit saying upstairs, “Trav? Trav? I’m right there, bro!” There were heavy steps above them, and then there was Pit, stopped dead in his tracks at the top of the stairs, Mallen’s gun pointed right at his face. He was a large guy, built heavy, but not thick. Most of it was flab, either way.

“Hi, Pit. Don’t move while my friend here frisks you, okay?” Gato was up there and expertly frisking the man. Came away with Pit’s phone, a switchblade, and a Beretta .96 Vertec.

Gato pushed Pit back, giving room for Mallen to come up. He held the .38 level, right at Pit’s stomach. “Okay man, we’re gonna go talk to Carpy now. Come on.” He let Gato put the man in an arm lock and push him forward down the hall. When they got to the right door, Pit was about to knock, but Mallen stopped him.

“Color me paranoid, but I’ll knock, thanks.” He rapped softly. He’d rather be wrong with the knocking than let Pit warn Carpy outright. Guys forget secret knocks sometimes.

“Yeah, what is it, man?” came Carpy’s voice from behind the thin door. Mallen put the gun to Pit’s temple. A bead of sweat ran down the side of the man’s face, and he said softly, “Carpy, man. I … I need to piss, man.”

“Oh, fuck me … whatever.” There was the sound of the chain being pulled back. Then the door was opening. “What are you a fuckin’ bitch you can’t piss in the—” He never got to finish his sentence because Gato shoved Pit in through the door, knocking Carpy back onto his ass. Then they were inside, Mallen’s gun trained on the two men. The junkie made a move to get up, but Mallen shook his head.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you.”

Carpy looked around the room like a trapped cat. “Where’s Trav?”

“What matters is where Teddy, your brother, is. See how it all goes now? You fucked up, man. You sent some guys after us. That made me question just what was going on. If you’d acted like any other junkie, taken his lumps and gone away, then I wouldn’t have thought anything. But you didn’t. You know, I know about that stuff. Being a junkie. One junkie can’t fool another.” He leaned closer, the gun held so Carpy couldn’t help but notice it, the muzzle a black hole as big as a baseball. “Now, where is Teddy? I’m not foolin’, man. I want to talk to him. I don’t care what trouble he’s in, that’s not my business. I just need info. I’m not here to blow the whistle on him or alert anyone to where he’s at.”

“If you go after him, they’ll find him,” Carpy said, never taking his eyes off the gun. There was something in Carpy’s voice that made Mallen believe him.

He motioned for Gato to take Pit into the other room. “Make sure he doesn’t hear anything,” he said. Gato winked, pushed a suddenly very scared Pit into the bedroom. There was a moment of silence, followed by a heavy sound, as if someone had dropped a large bag of grain onto the floor from a very tall ladder. After a moment Gato came back into the room, a smile on his face as he placed his brass knuckles back in his pocket. Smoothed out his shirt.

“He’s resting in a very comfortable way, bro.”

Mallen nodded. Turned back to Carpy. “See? It’s all good. No one will know what you said now. Where’s your brother?”

“Why do you guys want to see him so bad?”

“No questions from you; only answers. I promise you though, we aren’t gunning for him. Just want to talk with him.”

The struggle going on in Carpy was not fun to watch. He scratched at his arms, mumbled to himself, glanced at Mallen’s gun. “I … can’t,” he whined, his eyes pleading.

Gato stepped forward and grabbed Carpy by the neck. He pulled the man off the floor. Punched him hard in the stomach. Carpy groaned, trying to double up, but Gato held him straight. Mallen tried to gauge his friend’s mood: he figured some of it was for show, but he also knew his friend was frustrated at their lack of information about Lupe.

There was a cry of pain as Gato grabbed Carpy’s left hand and twisted it around. “I’m gonna fucking break your brazo in four fucking places, pendejo, if you don’t tell me where your brother is. Le mataré si no nos ayudas!”

Carpy struggled but it was no use. Finally, he relaxed, his body sagging. “Okay, man, okay. But I’m trusting you mean it when you say you only want to talk.” Carpy looked over at Mallen. “I’ve heard some things about you, of course. That you were a cop, but you didn’t fuck with people that didn’t deserve it. Hope that part’s true.”

“It’s true,” he said as he put his gun back in his pocket. “I just want to talk to him, okay? About one of his girls. Lupe.” Motioned for Gato to release him. Carpy fell to his knees, rubbing his wrist.

“Man, if it was only ’bout one of his girls …” Here he paused, then said, “Teddy’s into something bad. Like I said, I’m not sure what. We don’t talk much, but we still care about each other. Family, right? Anyway, after the house in the south was hit, he took off for Half Moon.”

Half Moon Bay was down the coast about thirty to sixty minutes, depending on traffic. “Why there?” Mallen said.

“It’s where we grew up. No one really knows that. I’m pretty sure he went there.”

“Man, that’s some lame-ass shit,” Gato said as he stepped forward, slipping his brass knuckles back onto his right hand. “So we go all the way down there, wasting our fucking time, and you get away to tell Teddy to go somewhere else. What the hell do you think we are, man? Stupid like you?”

“Yeah, that’s asking a lot of trust,” Mallen said.

“No, man! I swear!”

He considered it for a moment, then came over and frisked Carpy. Removed a cell phone, Carpy’s rig, and a small vial of heroin. He stared at the vial for a moment. It wasn’t easy … hell, it was fucking hard … but he gave the vial back to an amazed Carpy. “Gato will keep the rig. I’ll keep your phone.”

Gato accepted the rig like he was accepting a bag of dogshit. “Why, man?”

“Because we’re all going down to Half Moon. Together. Once we get what we want, then you’ll hand the rig back to Carpy, and we leave him to find his own way home.”

“Hey, hey … man,” Carpy said, “C’mon, man. How’ll I get back?”

“Well, if your brother is really there, I’m sure he can arrange passage for you. The alternative is I flush the rig and your scag right fucking now and tie you up in the trunk. You want to take the drive down there in that manner, instead?”

Carpy frantically shook his head in response, freaked out at the mere thought.

“Well then,” Mallen said as he and Gato escorted Carpy out of the apartment, “let’s have a nice, mellow drive down south.”