(2012) Blood on Blood (25 page)

What about hiding the earrings with a person? A woman, maybe.

That made me think of Ania. Reflexively, I took out my cell phone and almost flipped it open to call her. But I hesitated. I had to finish this first. Besides, without the earrings, Jerzy had no reason to worry about her talking to the police or anyone else.

Hell, she didn’t strike me as the kind of woman who would wilt under a little investigative pressure, anyway. But her kind was rare, man or woman. And I doubted Gar had a woman he trusted that much. Like I said, he didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t love anyone.

Except…

Holy shit.

I shook my head slightly as the thought struck me. A moment later, it was still there and became almost a certainty.

Of course.

Why hadn’t I thought of this before?

I hustled out of the bank and waved down a taxi. The first one blew past me, but the next one stopped. Before I got in, I glanced down two blocks toward Picco’s. A couple of marked police cruisers were still in front of the place, but no one seemed interested in me.

I slid into the back seat and closed the door.

“Where to, mister?”

“Saint Anthony’s,” I said.

TWENTY-FIVE

Jerzy

When I come out of the bank, I’m royally pissed off. I just stand there for a second trying to settle the hell down, then I lean against the polished marble wall and light up a smoke.

The old bastard. The son of a bitch I always tried to impress, always tried to make proud, he’d managed to really screw us over. Well, screwed me over, because Hero in there wasn’t ever going to get those earrings, anyway.

A cop siren chirps twice, real short like they do to get somebody’s attention, and then whoops again a third time. It was on my right, down the street, and I look down in the direction of Picco’s. There was still two patrol cars down there with a small huddle of people and gawkers standing around.

There are three cops, hands on hips, talking to each other and not having a fucking clue as to what the hell happened. Well, I won’t be going back in there anytime soon. It helps my mood a little when I think about Kiwi, or Kiki, or whatever the hell that skank’s name was. I hope that bitch is still laid out. Speaking of that, I’m a little banged up myself after me and Mick got into it. My right hand hurts like a mother after popping him so hard and I’m pretty sure my jaw is fucked up a little.

I take a last drag and toss it. One thing for sure, though. I know Mick is worse off than me. He ain’t feeling too fucking fresh right now.

So yeah, I’m screwed on the earrings, but I got a bucket of cash from Patrik waiting at the hotel and a smoking hot blonde that will follow me wherever the hell I go. And we’re definitely going. Somewhere. Like tomorrow. California for a while maybe. Florida, maybe. Hell I don’t really know where and really don’t care.

I head to the car, which is only about six cars down. As I’m going, I keep an eye on Picco’s but the sidewalk is crowded and I’m not really worried about it. I get in, start the car and almost put the car in gear but then I figure I’ll call Ania first just to check in and tell her I’m on my way.

I punch in her number and she answers on the second ring.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hey, I’ve been waiting for you to call, hoping you would.” She sounds scared but relieved. “Did…did you get the jewelry or whatever it was you told me about last night?”

“No, but it don’t matter.”

“Was there trouble? Jerzy, are you alright? Are you okay?” She sounds like she’s on the verge of getting all hinky again.

“No trouble, babe. Just didn’t work out. I got a boatload of money at the Hilton for us, though. We’re outta here. Kissing this fucking town goodbye just like we talked about. How’s that sound?”

“Like a dream, Jerzy.” There was a pause on her end. Then, “I need you here, baby.”

“On my way. We’ll check out of that dump as soon as I get there.”

“Hurry okay? I want you here with me and I want this over.”

“It will be. We’ll stay at the Hilton tonight then catch a flight, first class, in the morning. Or maybe we play it tricky and drive out. Make it look like we flew somewhere. We’re golden either way, Ania. Just me and you, somewhere warm, huh?”

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted since we met. Hurry, Jerzy.”

“Think about where you want to go. I will too, then we’ll decide.”

“I love you, Jerzy.”

I look at the phone for a second and I’m feeling like a kid again. Like I feel all the time with her. I knew she was trouble from the start but I also knew I didn’t care. This is what I need right now and it feels good.

I put the phone away, slide some shades on and put the Lincoln in reverse. After I look behind me and back up a little, I look forward while I’m cranking the wheel to ease out of the parking spot.

Straight ahead, I just happen to glance at the Bank again and here comes Hero out of the front door. I see him real clear and it’s all like slow motion or something. The people on the sidewalk just seem to part so I can see him. Like he’s the only guy standing there. Almost like this was meant to be for some reason. There’s a voice in my head saying I’m supposed to be seeing him right now, right here.

Something is up here. I can see it, I can feel it. I know it.

He just stands there for a second. Then he grimaces a little and puts a hand to his side. There is something in his face though, his eyes. Something urgent. He starts waving at a taxi and it blows right by him. His hand goes to his side again but his eyes are big and he’s definitely excited about something.

A car honks behind me, but that’s nothing new in this town and nobody pays any attention, including me. The car is waiting for me to pull out of the space so he can park. Well, fuck you, your ass can wait because I got something going on here. Don’t know what it is, but it’s something.

Hero starts waving again like a crazy fucker and steps off the curb, right in front of another cab.

The light up the block changes though and traffic slows anyway. The taxi stops for the traffic as much as it does for him but Mick throws the door open and hops in.

The taxi jerks forward, stops and goes again, brake lights going on and off. The cab driver is trying to wedge himself between cars and cheat up in traffic the way they do.

What the fuck is going on here? I knew he was thinking about something up in that viewing room. Then he comes busting ass out here and all but dives into a cab.

It takes me about two seconds to decide what I’m going to do. The asshole behind me that’s honking and waiting for the space is giving me a good block. He’s giving me an opening to just pull right out onto the street and I take it. There are three cars between me and Mick’s cab. The light changes and the traffic crawls forward.

Fuck it. I’m following him. This was meant to be.

I can’t believe I wasted my time following Mick’s ass to St. Anthony’s. I mean yeah, this is where the funeral was for Gar and Mick’s whore mother, too, but like, so what?

I watch him go in.

I smoke one and wait.

Five minutes later he’s still in there.

Hey, I’ve come this far, so what the hell.

There’s no way I’m going to go waltzing in the big front doors unless I have to, though. I get out and walk to a side door next to a shaded outside sitting area with white stone benches. The door is unlocked and I take a peek inside real quick.

I don’t see much. The lights are way down but it didn’t look like anyone was around. I step in quickly and shut the door as quiet as possible. For a minute, I just stay right where I am, next to a pillar and half blocked from view. When my eyes adjust, I can see about three quarters of the pews from where I’m standing.

There’s maybe ten people sprinkled around in the pews, most kneeling and praying with their heads down. One of them whose head isn’t bowed is Mick about fifteen rows from the front. I’m looking at the back of his head but I know it’s him. He’s looking upwards. Ah yeah, the good Irish Catholic. Asking for forgiveness, no doubt.

I’m getting ready to walk out, but then he stands and walks down to the end of the pew row. Looks back up front, does a quick dip to one knee, then crosses himself.

I watch him come up the aisle towards the front doors but then he hangs a quick left and walks to two doors on the far side wall that lead to an outer hallway. He opens them and I see him head left again, farther into the church as the door eases shut.

I quickly decide to stay with him a little longer. Across the last row of pews I go and straight to those doors he just went through. I stick my head through the door and look left. The hallway is dark. The lights that are on are very low. I don’t see him but there are only four doors down there.

First door was a changing room. No Hero.

Second door is big and fancier. Has a brass plaque on it that says Columbarium. Like I know what the shit that even means. I open it slow and just an inch or two, looking through the wedge of an opening.

It’s Mick and his back is to me. There are heavy shelves lining the wall except there ain’t no books on them. The shelves are lined with urns. All shapes and sizes. A shitload of them too. There is an open spot, fourth shelf up from the floor, right in front of where Mick’s standing.

Okay, so now I know what the word Columbarium stands for.

I watch him for a second more, then step in.

“Who you stealing there, Hero? The old man or your mother?”

He whips around and glares at me. He’s got that crazy ass look again and he takes a step toward me.

“Get out.” His voice is low and dangerous.

“You could steal them both, one under each arm and just take them home with you. Have a nice family dinner together or something, huh? Watch a little TV? Be like old times.”

“Get the fuck out before I kill you.” He’s still got the urn but takes another step towards me. Then I notice he’s taken the lid off…what the shit?

“Damn Mick, you’re going to need a confession just for your language, let alone disturbing the ashes. You think you’re in a bar or what?”

He takes another step and then there’s that voice inside my head again. It whispers the answer to all of this. It just pops right it into my head. All of a sudden, I don’t think I know. I do know. Like I said back at the bank, it’s almost like this was all meant to be. Like this answer was given to me.

“Can’t do it, can you?” I smile at him.

That stops him in his tracks. I can see in the dim lighting that he’s been crying.

“That’s your mother, right?” I stop smiling now and get all solemn with him. “That’s where they are. You broke the seal open but you just can’t bring yourself to dig around in there or smash it and have the ashes go everywhere. Plus the earrings are hers and they’re with her. The old bastard gave them to her even though she was dead.”

Mick just gives me a blank look and stares down at the urn.

“Look Hero, believe it or not, I get that. I really do. I get that.” He looks back up at me and his lip curls up a little. He wants to believe what I’m saying but he doesn’t.

“Get out,” he says.

“I understand and I am getting out. Okay?”

He just glares at me.

I walk over and get the brass top of the urn off the shelf and come up to him with it.

“Here, put this back on. Put her back up there and let’s get the hell outta here. I’m serious. I’ll even buy you a drink, or ten.”

He backs away from me, but reaches for the lid and as his arm comes up and out, he shows me those banged up ribs again. The same ones I caved in earlier.

I throw a hard left hook and hit him right in that side again, right on the money. He goes down to one knee and yelps, then loses his grip on the urn and kind of fumbles it up in the air.

There’s ashes all over now but then he actually catches the damn thing. He cradles it upright and kicks out at me. Tries to scissor trip me from a squatting position but he’s hurting so bad there’s not much he can do.

I grab a good hold of the urn by the neck and put a foot on his shoulder. When I pull the urn and give him a hard shove with my foot, he just loses his grip and I’ve got it.

I walk to a chair and spill what’s left of the urn out onto it. The ashes and dust come pouring.

Nothing.

Then, there it is. A soft clink that comes from inside the urn when I turn it completely upside down. It’s like music to my ears.

They plop down into the ashes. Big, beautiful bastards. Huge, long earrings and there has never been a deeper, greener green than these jade beauties. Big ass diamonds on them too.

From behind me I hear him coming at me again, but he’s staggering around bad.

I take him down easy with a right that glances off his shoulder, then hits his chin but it still connects enough. Mick goes down hard and stays down, eyes pressed shut in pain. I look at him for a moment. He’s tough, I will give him that.

I walk quickly back to the chair and pick the earrings out of the dust. I blow them off some and then just hold them in my hand. I’m afraid I’ll bang them up in my pocket. That internal clock starts ticking loud again and it’s time to go. I head for the door.

“I’m going to kill you.” He hisses it from behind me but I don’t even look back or bother answering.

In the car, before I take off, I look at the gorgeous fuckers again, and then fold them up carefully in my handkerchief.

The future just got a lot brighter. I tell you one thing, what they call bling these days? It don’t have shit over these babies.

TWENTY-SIX

Mick

Rage.

I’ve heard about it. Thought I’d felt it. When I took the fall for Al and Harris, I spent time inside the jail at County. They put me in isolation to keep the other inmates from attacking me because I’d been a cop. I stewed in there, wishing revenge on those two, but knowing I’d done most of the damage to myself. I thought that was rage.

It wasn’t even close.

I knelt in the columbarium, drawing shallow ragged breaths and staring at the scattered ashes that used to be my mother.