The sun cut through the early morning fog as it woke up the western seaboard. I did not have a good night. Between talking to Betty, and writing down her statements, and guarding her. We all were up half the night. None of us felt any too good. Coffee helped. Brenda made a big breakfast. That helped. But there was still a tension in the air. A feeling of impending doom. Shit was about to break loose.
Robert collect all the paper evidence Walt had found, We went over it with Robert. Much of what Betty told us confirmed what we knew or suspected. We knew what the next move would be. The farmhouse.
By 8 am we were on the road to the farmhouse. Walt decided we needed a distraction when we moved in. So he made a side trip, and would meet us at the road leading to the farmhouse. By the time Walt meet us at the bend in the road leading to the farmhouse, it was almost noon. The sun had risen to its usual state of burning everything alive it could. I was hot and tired, and frankly did give a shit what happened. No that's wrong. I did care, that’s why I was there. But I has hard pressed to admit it to myself.
A tractor trailer appeared on the horizon. Behind it it was a flatbed trailer. And on the trailer was a Sherman Tank. and driving the whole thing was Walt. Nothing Like a distraction. A Sherman tank would definitely keep them busy while we the rest of us slipped in the back. There were three other men with Walt. Robert and I explained what was going on. The didn't have to help. But they insisted. And they brought party favors. Reaching into the belly of the tank, one man pulled out a Thompson Submachine Gun. They had heard about the BAR earlier in the week, and figured they had better help even the odds. With The radios they had brought, we we set. Walt and I headed to the back side of the estate. Robert and the extra volunteers got the tank ready. Once they had the tank ready to head over the hill and down the driveway, they radioed me. By then I was as close to the back of the house as I could get without being seen by any of the guards. We were right to bring more firepower. Several of the guards I saw walking along the back section had high power rifles and shotguns.
I didn’t need the radio to tell me they were coming. I could hear the tank coming down the driveway from way back here. The look on the man's face was priceless. The last thing they ever expected to hear or see in the middle of California was a Sherman Tank. I took advantage of their distraction and rushed several of them. Firing my lever action working the lever a I ran towards them. The first man was completely surprised as my .30/30 round tore through his stomach. The the second man started to react at the sound of my gun. But he was far to slow. I caught him as he started to raise his shotgun. Only to drop it when my round smashed into his face. At that range, It was a bloody mess. But I didn’t stop to look over my handy work. Walt was right behind me. Firing as we got to the house. We hit the back porch. Three men were in the back room. As we appeared on the porch they fired. I managed to barely miss getting hit by a piece of flying glass. Returning fire, Leveled two more round into the house. Hitting one and barely missing the second man. Walt got him with the shotgun. The I had long ago stopped being able to hear. The sounds of the gun in the open was bad enough but on the porch and in the house they were much louder. By now Robert and the Tank had crashed through the front gate, and right up the driveway and lawn, to the front porch. The gunfire from the front of the house was deafening.
Suddenly it was quiet. The tank spurted and puttered and shut down. Adding to the silence. The sounds of gunfire drifted off into the hills. I kicking in the door between the back room and the Parlor. Robert stood there. A mess. His hat was long gone, and his suit was dusty and dirty and he was bleeding. He ignored all that. He pointed his Thompson at the back corner. There was Steve Clark.
The raid had taken all of five minutes at most. In that time ten more men were dead or injured. It a was mess. We collected them all the living men, and had them transported back to LA. Steve, we kept for ourselves.
“You know Steve, I didn't like you the first day I meet you. I now know why. You do know you’re in a world of shit? Don’t you. We know everything. All about Betty, and Drossel.” He just stood there in the corner . I pulled him out and sat him down on one of the few remaining unbroken chairs that were left on that floor. Robert took over.
“Steve Clark, You're under arrest for treason, harboring a fugitive, conspiracy to commit murder, and at least half a dozen other charges, I’ll file downtown.”
With that he pulled him up out of the chair, and yanked his hands behind him, and cuffed him, and lead him out what was remaining of the front room. The tank had all but plowed into the house itself. Destroying the porch. We marched over the front of the tank, dropping down the ground once we were clear of the mess. Walt brough Robert’s car around. The two of them none too gently tossed Steve into the back.
“You know who’s not here?” I asked idly.
“Yep, Philip Drossel.” Came the reply.
I looked around the property some more while they cleaned up the mess. Why wasn't Drossel here? He had been here. Why leave? He was safe here. What would drive him out of his hole? I found a cool spot in one of the back building and some cold drinks. I helped myself. I sat thinking about all the stuff Betty had told me last night. How Drossel had been obsessed with avenging his son’s death. About Wanda. The hat, and Suddenly it clicked. The address of the meeting for Wanda, There was a theatre on that corner. In all the shit happening I hadn’t put it together. That the same spot I’d shot Edward lane back in 1938. Now it all made sense. It had been about revenge all the time. The spying and black market had been just means to the end. The end being to kill me.
I said goodbye to Walt and Robert. I had places to go and people to see, and hopefully not kill. At least not yet.
Two hours later. I was back in LA. The traffic heading into town had thinned out, But I still kept an eye out for old Yellow Chevy’s or New Cadillacs. I was still hot and tired. But at least now I knew where to go. I stopped at the bar. Drossel hadn’t been there for several days. The same with the theatre. So I headed for the warehouse. The car was there. I had long since stopped trying to be nice. I aimed my car right towards the big door. With both guns on my lap, I gunned my old ford and rammed through the big door. As soon as I stopped I jumped out guns in hand. There was no one there. Just a old clerk sweeping up the office. I asked him about Drossel. He had been here, and switched cars. He was driving the old Yellow chey.
“You St.James?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m St.James. What of it.?”
“Here he told me to give this if you showed up.”
I took the paper he handed me. Opening it was a handwritten note.
“ Be at the corner tonight at 2 am.
I have Brenda.”
That last line cut through me like a knife.
Finding a working phone in one of the offices. I called the house. Brenda wasn’t there. So I called the bar. No answer. Now I was worried. Jumping back in my ford, I slammed it in gear and made a wide turn in the empty warehouse bay, crashing back through the door I had just crashed through. My stomach felt sick..
I made it to the house in record time. As I expected, the house was empty. But not untouched. Being careful not to disturb anything.I approached the porch; The front door was hanging open. Stepping into the living room. I saw the blood on the floor. Holes in the wall confirmed that she had put up a fight. Someone had left a trail of blood from the living room to the the porch, and down the steps before it disappeared into the grass. The driveway showed the tracks of two cars pulling out fast. Ruts in the grass next to the driveway, showed where they cut the corner short pulling out. It was clear Drossel had been here, and taken Brenda by force and she’d fought back. Back at my car. I headed for the Bob’s office. I beat him to the station. He was still working on the mess at the farmhouse. I asked the duty sergeant to get a message to him. I kept it short. “Dorsell has Brenda, and want to meet at 2 am tonight.” There was little I could do until Bob and Walt got back from the farmhouse. So I sat in Bob's Office and stewed. A while later Bob’s phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Jim. I got the message about Brenda. I put out a APB on Drossel. I should be back within the hour and we can can get set for tonight.”
I thanked him for calling and told him where the meeting place was. Wandering down the the street I stood and watched the cars go by. The glare from the sun was blinding. Shading my eyes I tried to see across the street. A man was standing next to the fruit cart. He seemed to be idly picking over the fruits on the cart. I watched him for a minute. Then on a hunch I headed down the street. Hitting the first open door I came to, I stepped into the relative shade and coolness of the building. Setting back into the shadows of the glass and awning that hung over the sidewalk. I watched. I was rewarded with the man slowly coming down the street. He tried to seem like he was just killing time. But the only thing that was being killed was my patience, and possibly even him. I watched as he stopped across the street from me. It was interesting how he suddenly found the ads in the drugstore window so intriguing he had to stop and read each one . Stepping back into the room, I realized I was in a dinner. Looking around I spotted the restroom in the back. I made of show of going to the counter in the window so he’d see. Ording a cold drink and a sandwich. The smell of food reminded me I hadn’t eaten since early in the morning when we got ready for the raid on the farmhouse. Watching the reflection of the door on the stainless steel back backstop, behind the counter. Sure enough “Mr. Fruit” came wandering in. I noted that he sat in booth near the door. I doubted that he’d do much in public, so I ate my sandwich and took my time drinking my cold drink. Paying the waitress, I headed for the restroom. Glancing at my Timex watch I realized Bob would be getting back soon. I slipped into the small bathroom. Hurrying up I did was was needed, and waited. I didn’t have to wait long. My .45 was at the ready when he entered the small room. He stepped into the room. I had my gun level with his eyes the second the door closed.
“Where’s Brenda?” I growed.
“Who, what ?” he tried to play dumb.
I was short on time and patience. So I hit him. Hard. The crack of my gun against his skull thudded and he fell against one of the small sinks. I reached down grabbed by the front of his suit. Pulling him, leaning against the wall.
Reaching into his pockets. Along with his wallet, I found a small semi-auto pistol similar to what Wanda had tried to use on me. Once I was sure he was helpless and unarmed I hauled him out of the bathroom. Pushing and generally manhandling him, I managed to get him out the back of the dinner, though the kitchen. Much the the dismay of the staff, and owner of the dinner. The sight of my Colt .45 shut them up almost as quickly as I pushed my way though. Another glance at the timex told me Bob was probably back by now, and wondering where I was. Pushing my way back into the dinner, I asked for a phone. One was quickly found. Still holding the half unconscious man and the phone I called Bob’s desk. He was there. I told him about my little venture outside to catch some air and try to relax, and how I found a tail. He said he’d be right over. I dragged the man into the front of the dinner and plopped him into a booth and sat down to wait. It didn't take long for Bob to show up. The two of us pushed him into the back of Bob’s car, and we returned to the station. Bob booked him on suspicion of murder and kidnapping. While we couldn’t prove he anything to do any murders, it give us a chance to run a check on him and see who he was. Bob thought it was very likely that he was involved with Drossel, and possibly even Brenda’s kidnapping. Fingerprints showed he was one Garland Williams, a low level hood who had worked for a variety of hoods over the war. He’d been to San Quentin, at least twice for small stuff, but it was largely suspected that he was involved in the black market and number running and even prostitution during the war. He had been seen with Drossel during the war, but never actually caught with him, and tied directly with him. There were several outstanding warrants on him for break-ins and robberies in other counties. So he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.
Bob had sent extra patrol cars to the area where the movie theatre was and had APB’s out for Drossel’s cadillac, and the Yellow Chevy.
I was there at midnight. Like a week ago it started to rain during the afternoon. By midnight it was mostly gone, leaving streets and sidewalks wet.
I was more than a little prepared this time. Walt and Robert were on either end of the street. Both had shotguns and were ready to use them if needed. Several cars came and went over the next two hours. I getting more anxious to get this over with as time went on. This had been a hell of a week.
Then the chevy appeared out the the dark. Much like Wanda had appeared. I waited while the doors open. The passenger door pushed open, Out came Brenda. Phillip managed to push his way over the seats and gearshift and follow her out . Once they were both out I could see Brenda was reasonably ok in the lights from the storefronts. Sighing with a kind of relief .
I leveled my .45 at him. He had his .45 pointed at her head. While most of him was crowded behind her. Using her as a shield.
“Let her go it's over. Drossel.” I told him quietly. The whole time I covered him, He was moving so the buildings behind him.
I saw Walt and Bob trying to get in a position behind him him, but they were too far way to get close enough to do any good.
All they could was cover the sides of the building and my back so no one came up on me. Which did give me a bit of a edge.
I took off my hat. It was blood stained hat Wanda had been wearing. Holding it under the light, So he could see the blood on the brim.
“I finally put it altogether Philip.Your son, Edward, Wanda, and Steve, and Betty, Your sister”
“You didn’t have to kill him.”
“Actually I did. I want didn’t to kill anyone. But he left me no choice. There were three of them. You son, and two other thugs, backing him up. Kids who ran like chickens when I fired THIS revolver at him.” I slid the revolver from its holster with my other hand. Putting back I regained my firm two handed grip on .45. “There were a dozen witness who said I had no choice. Philip I’m sorry I had to kill your son. But killing me and Brenda now if you get the chance wouldn’t bring him back.”
The gentleness in my voice surprised even me.
“You killed my son, I’m going to kill your wife, then you.” He said coldly.
In the light from the marquie above us, I saw the same hate and emptiness I saw in Edward's eyes all these years ago. Stepping closer to him.
“Killing us won’t undo what happened here. And I won’t let you.” I leveled my 45 at him. At this range, a shot would take the top of his head off. let the words hang there in the dark
“Steve is in jail. We raided the farmhouse this afternoon. By the way, it needs a new porch. Not that you’ll ever be going back there again.”.
I tried a different tact.
“You know it’s all over.? The spying, gun running, gambling and various other enterprises you had going. The funny thing is we would have probably never found out for sure about the spying back in the war, If you had just let this lie.” I said.
Suddenly he looked as old as I felt.
“The only thing up for grabs now is how long you’ll go to federal prison for or if you live out the night. It all depends on you.”
I remembered Garland Williams.
“We picked Garland Williams up outside the police station this afternoon. You need to hire better help. He tried to follow me, and I spotted almost instantly.” The gun was getting heavy. I shifted my position both to get a better shot at him, and to work my muscles.
“Betty told us everything. All about the spying, and black market during the war, and how you wanted to come after me at the time. But Steve said no. That was the one thing he was right about. Thing is, if you’d came after me then, you probably would have gotten me. And your revenge for something that was bound to happen sooner or later. Your son was trouble looking for trouble. If I hadn’t shot him, someone else's would have. Or he would have wound up in jail his entire life.
Wanda, why Wanda, and the hat bit? I have to admit That had me puzzled for a long time. I remembered seeing the hat, but for a longest time I couldn’t remember where. Why not just her call me and lure to the corner, and you show up? That would have been more effective.” I paused.
“I wanted to, But Betty said it would be too obvious, she’s the one who came up with the hat idea. Some kid had stolen it from the police evidence room, when they were stealing a bunch of guns, and other evidence from other cases.” Philip supplied.
“This is going to end tonight. Right here, right now. Let Brendo go.” I told him.
He pushed her way from him , and brought his gun up to level at me. I fired. Along with Walt and Bob. The sounds of all three .45’s going at the same time was deafening Three flames of bolted from the guns and Philp Drossel backed up against the wall of the theatre, slowly sliding down and propping himself up against the sidewalk and the wall. Dead. while Brenda ran from where she’d been. I caught her both of us shaking. Hugging her tight I pulled her close to me and kissed her.
As the echo of the gunshots died in the night air. Uniformed officers appeared from nowhere. Bob started working the scene like any other crime scene. Walt and I took Brenda to the cars. Walt drove my car as Brenda and I sat in back and just held each other all the way home. Neither of us could find any words to say what we felt. Mostly relief. It was finally over.
Robert collect all the paper evidence Walt had found, We went over it with Robert. Much of what Betty told us confirmed what we knew or suspected. We knew what the next move would be. The farmhouse.
By 8 am we were on the road to the farmhouse. Walt decided we needed a distraction when we moved in. So he made a side trip, and would meet us at the road leading to the farmhouse. By the time Walt meet us at the bend in the road leading to the farmhouse, it was almost noon. The sun had risen to its usual state of burning everything alive it could. I was hot and tired, and frankly did give a shit what happened. No that's wrong. I did care, that’s why I was there. But I has hard pressed to admit it to myself.
A tractor trailer appeared on the horizon. Behind it it was a flatbed trailer. And on the trailer was a Sherman Tank. and driving the whole thing was Walt. Nothing Like a distraction. A Sherman tank would definitely keep them busy while we the rest of us slipped in the back. There were three other men with Walt. Robert and I explained what was going on. The didn't have to help. But they insisted. And they brought party favors. Reaching into the belly of the tank, one man pulled out a Thompson Submachine Gun. They had heard about the BAR earlier in the week, and figured they had better help even the odds. With The radios they had brought, we we set. Walt and I headed to the back side of the estate. Robert and the extra volunteers got the tank ready. Once they had the tank ready to head over the hill and down the driveway, they radioed me. By then I was as close to the back of the house as I could get without being seen by any of the guards. We were right to bring more firepower. Several of the guards I saw walking along the back section had high power rifles and shotguns.
I didn’t need the radio to tell me they were coming. I could hear the tank coming down the driveway from way back here. The look on the man's face was priceless. The last thing they ever expected to hear or see in the middle of California was a Sherman Tank. I took advantage of their distraction and rushed several of them. Firing my lever action working the lever a I ran towards them. The first man was completely surprised as my .30/30 round tore through his stomach. The the second man started to react at the sound of my gun. But he was far to slow. I caught him as he started to raise his shotgun. Only to drop it when my round smashed into his face. At that range, It was a bloody mess. But I didn’t stop to look over my handy work. Walt was right behind me. Firing as we got to the house. We hit the back porch. Three men were in the back room. As we appeared on the porch they fired. I managed to barely miss getting hit by a piece of flying glass. Returning fire, Leveled two more round into the house. Hitting one and barely missing the second man. Walt got him with the shotgun. The I had long ago stopped being able to hear. The sounds of the gun in the open was bad enough but on the porch and in the house they were much louder. By now Robert and the Tank had crashed through the front gate, and right up the driveway and lawn, to the front porch. The gunfire from the front of the house was deafening.
Suddenly it was quiet. The tank spurted and puttered and shut down. Adding to the silence. The sounds of gunfire drifted off into the hills. I kicking in the door between the back room and the Parlor. Robert stood there. A mess. His hat was long gone, and his suit was dusty and dirty and he was bleeding. He ignored all that. He pointed his Thompson at the back corner. There was Steve Clark.
The raid had taken all of five minutes at most. In that time ten more men were dead or injured. It a was mess. We collected them all the living men, and had them transported back to LA. Steve, we kept for ourselves.
“You know Steve, I didn't like you the first day I meet you. I now know why. You do know you’re in a world of shit? Don’t you. We know everything. All about Betty, and Drossel.” He just stood there in the corner . I pulled him out and sat him down on one of the few remaining unbroken chairs that were left on that floor. Robert took over.
“Steve Clark, You're under arrest for treason, harboring a fugitive, conspiracy to commit murder, and at least half a dozen other charges, I’ll file downtown.”
With that he pulled him up out of the chair, and yanked his hands behind him, and cuffed him, and lead him out what was remaining of the front room. The tank had all but plowed into the house itself. Destroying the porch. We marched over the front of the tank, dropping down the ground once we were clear of the mess. Walt brough Robert’s car around. The two of them none too gently tossed Steve into the back.
“You know who’s not here?” I asked idly.
“Yep, Philip Drossel.” Came the reply.
I looked around the property some more while they cleaned up the mess. Why wasn't Drossel here? He had been here. Why leave? He was safe here. What would drive him out of his hole? I found a cool spot in one of the back building and some cold drinks. I helped myself. I sat thinking about all the stuff Betty had told me last night. How Drossel had been obsessed with avenging his son’s death. About Wanda. The hat, and Suddenly it clicked. The address of the meeting for Wanda, There was a theatre on that corner. In all the shit happening I hadn’t put it together. That the same spot I’d shot Edward lane back in 1938. Now it all made sense. It had been about revenge all the time. The spying and black market had been just means to the end. The end being to kill me.
I said goodbye to Walt and Robert. I had places to go and people to see, and hopefully not kill. At least not yet.
Two hours later. I was back in LA. The traffic heading into town had thinned out, But I still kept an eye out for old Yellow Chevy’s or New Cadillacs. I was still hot and tired. But at least now I knew where to go. I stopped at the bar. Drossel hadn’t been there for several days. The same with the theatre. So I headed for the warehouse. The car was there. I had long since stopped trying to be nice. I aimed my car right towards the big door. With both guns on my lap, I gunned my old ford and rammed through the big door. As soon as I stopped I jumped out guns in hand. There was no one there. Just a old clerk sweeping up the office. I asked him about Drossel. He had been here, and switched cars. He was driving the old Yellow chey.
“You St.James?” he asked.
“Yeah. I’m St.James. What of it.?”
“Here he told me to give this if you showed up.”
I took the paper he handed me. Opening it was a handwritten note.
“ Be at the corner tonight at 2 am.
I have Brenda.”
That last line cut through me like a knife.
Finding a working phone in one of the offices. I called the house. Brenda wasn’t there. So I called the bar. No answer. Now I was worried. Jumping back in my ford, I slammed it in gear and made a wide turn in the empty warehouse bay, crashing back through the door I had just crashed through. My stomach felt sick..
I made it to the house in record time. As I expected, the house was empty. But not untouched. Being careful not to disturb anything.I approached the porch; The front door was hanging open. Stepping into the living room. I saw the blood on the floor. Holes in the wall confirmed that she had put up a fight. Someone had left a trail of blood from the living room to the the porch, and down the steps before it disappeared into the grass. The driveway showed the tracks of two cars pulling out fast. Ruts in the grass next to the driveway, showed where they cut the corner short pulling out. It was clear Drossel had been here, and taken Brenda by force and she’d fought back. Back at my car. I headed for the Bob’s office. I beat him to the station. He was still working on the mess at the farmhouse. I asked the duty sergeant to get a message to him. I kept it short. “Dorsell has Brenda, and want to meet at 2 am tonight.” There was little I could do until Bob and Walt got back from the farmhouse. So I sat in Bob's Office and stewed. A while later Bob’s phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Jim. I got the message about Brenda. I put out a APB on Drossel. I should be back within the hour and we can can get set for tonight.”
I thanked him for calling and told him where the meeting place was. Wandering down the the street I stood and watched the cars go by. The glare from the sun was blinding. Shading my eyes I tried to see across the street. A man was standing next to the fruit cart. He seemed to be idly picking over the fruits on the cart. I watched him for a minute. Then on a hunch I headed down the street. Hitting the first open door I came to, I stepped into the relative shade and coolness of the building. Setting back into the shadows of the glass and awning that hung over the sidewalk. I watched. I was rewarded with the man slowly coming down the street. He tried to seem like he was just killing time. But the only thing that was being killed was my patience, and possibly even him. I watched as he stopped across the street from me. It was interesting how he suddenly found the ads in the drugstore window so intriguing he had to stop and read each one . Stepping back into the room, I realized I was in a dinner. Looking around I spotted the restroom in the back. I made of show of going to the counter in the window so he’d see. Ording a cold drink and a sandwich. The smell of food reminded me I hadn’t eaten since early in the morning when we got ready for the raid on the farmhouse. Watching the reflection of the door on the stainless steel back backstop, behind the counter. Sure enough “Mr. Fruit” came wandering in. I noted that he sat in booth near the door. I doubted that he’d do much in public, so I ate my sandwich and took my time drinking my cold drink. Paying the waitress, I headed for the restroom. Glancing at my Timex watch I realized Bob would be getting back soon. I slipped into the small bathroom. Hurrying up I did was was needed, and waited. I didn’t have to wait long. My .45 was at the ready when he entered the small room. He stepped into the room. I had my gun level with his eyes the second the door closed.
“Where’s Brenda?” I growed.
“Who, what ?” he tried to play dumb.
I was short on time and patience. So I hit him. Hard. The crack of my gun against his skull thudded and he fell against one of the small sinks. I reached down grabbed by the front of his suit. Pulling him, leaning against the wall.
Reaching into his pockets. Along with his wallet, I found a small semi-auto pistol similar to what Wanda had tried to use on me. Once I was sure he was helpless and unarmed I hauled him out of the bathroom. Pushing and generally manhandling him, I managed to get him out the back of the dinner, though the kitchen. Much the the dismay of the staff, and owner of the dinner. The sight of my Colt .45 shut them up almost as quickly as I pushed my way though. Another glance at the timex told me Bob was probably back by now, and wondering where I was. Pushing my way back into the dinner, I asked for a phone. One was quickly found. Still holding the half unconscious man and the phone I called Bob’s desk. He was there. I told him about my little venture outside to catch some air and try to relax, and how I found a tail. He said he’d be right over. I dragged the man into the front of the dinner and plopped him into a booth and sat down to wait. It didn't take long for Bob to show up. The two of us pushed him into the back of Bob’s car, and we returned to the station. Bob booked him on suspicion of murder and kidnapping. While we couldn’t prove he anything to do any murders, it give us a chance to run a check on him and see who he was. Bob thought it was very likely that he was involved with Drossel, and possibly even Brenda’s kidnapping. Fingerprints showed he was one Garland Williams, a low level hood who had worked for a variety of hoods over the war. He’d been to San Quentin, at least twice for small stuff, but it was largely suspected that he was involved in the black market and number running and even prostitution during the war. He had been seen with Drossel during the war, but never actually caught with him, and tied directly with him. There were several outstanding warrants on him for break-ins and robberies in other counties. So he wasn’t going anywhere any time soon.
Bob had sent extra patrol cars to the area where the movie theatre was and had APB’s out for Drossel’s cadillac, and the Yellow Chevy.
I was there at midnight. Like a week ago it started to rain during the afternoon. By midnight it was mostly gone, leaving streets and sidewalks wet.
I was more than a little prepared this time. Walt and Robert were on either end of the street. Both had shotguns and were ready to use them if needed. Several cars came and went over the next two hours. I getting more anxious to get this over with as time went on. This had been a hell of a week.
Then the chevy appeared out the the dark. Much like Wanda had appeared. I waited while the doors open. The passenger door pushed open, Out came Brenda. Phillip managed to push his way over the seats and gearshift and follow her out . Once they were both out I could see Brenda was reasonably ok in the lights from the storefronts. Sighing with a kind of relief .
I leveled my .45 at him. He had his .45 pointed at her head. While most of him was crowded behind her. Using her as a shield.
“Let her go it's over. Drossel.” I told him quietly. The whole time I covered him, He was moving so the buildings behind him.
I saw Walt and Bob trying to get in a position behind him him, but they were too far way to get close enough to do any good.
All they could was cover the sides of the building and my back so no one came up on me. Which did give me a bit of a edge.
I took off my hat. It was blood stained hat Wanda had been wearing. Holding it under the light, So he could see the blood on the brim.
“I finally put it altogether Philip.Your son, Edward, Wanda, and Steve, and Betty, Your sister”
“You didn’t have to kill him.”
“Actually I did. I want didn’t to kill anyone. But he left me no choice. There were three of them. You son, and two other thugs, backing him up. Kids who ran like chickens when I fired THIS revolver at him.” I slid the revolver from its holster with my other hand. Putting back I regained my firm two handed grip on .45. “There were a dozen witness who said I had no choice. Philip I’m sorry I had to kill your son. But killing me and Brenda now if you get the chance wouldn’t bring him back.”
The gentleness in my voice surprised even me.
“You killed my son, I’m going to kill your wife, then you.” He said coldly.
In the light from the marquie above us, I saw the same hate and emptiness I saw in Edward's eyes all these years ago. Stepping closer to him.
“Killing us won’t undo what happened here. And I won’t let you.” I leveled my 45 at him. At this range, a shot would take the top of his head off. let the words hang there in the dark
“Steve is in jail. We raided the farmhouse this afternoon. By the way, it needs a new porch. Not that you’ll ever be going back there again.”.
I tried a different tact.
“You know it’s all over.? The spying, gun running, gambling and various other enterprises you had going. The funny thing is we would have probably never found out for sure about the spying back in the war, If you had just let this lie.” I said.
Suddenly he looked as old as I felt.
“The only thing up for grabs now is how long you’ll go to federal prison for or if you live out the night. It all depends on you.”
I remembered Garland Williams.
“We picked Garland Williams up outside the police station this afternoon. You need to hire better help. He tried to follow me, and I spotted almost instantly.” The gun was getting heavy. I shifted my position both to get a better shot at him, and to work my muscles.
“Betty told us everything. All about the spying, and black market during the war, and how you wanted to come after me at the time. But Steve said no. That was the one thing he was right about. Thing is, if you’d came after me then, you probably would have gotten me. And your revenge for something that was bound to happen sooner or later. Your son was trouble looking for trouble. If I hadn’t shot him, someone else's would have. Or he would have wound up in jail his entire life.
Wanda, why Wanda, and the hat bit? I have to admit That had me puzzled for a long time. I remembered seeing the hat, but for a longest time I couldn’t remember where. Why not just her call me and lure to the corner, and you show up? That would have been more effective.” I paused.
“I wanted to, But Betty said it would be too obvious, she’s the one who came up with the hat idea. Some kid had stolen it from the police evidence room, when they were stealing a bunch of guns, and other evidence from other cases.” Philip supplied.
“This is going to end tonight. Right here, right now. Let Brendo go.” I told him.
He pushed her way from him , and brought his gun up to level at me. I fired. Along with Walt and Bob. The sounds of all three .45’s going at the same time was deafening Three flames of bolted from the guns and Philp Drossel backed up against the wall of the theatre, slowly sliding down and propping himself up against the sidewalk and the wall. Dead. while Brenda ran from where she’d been. I caught her both of us shaking. Hugging her tight I pulled her close to me and kissed her.
As the echo of the gunshots died in the night air. Uniformed officers appeared from nowhere. Bob started working the scene like any other crime scene. Walt and I took Brenda to the cars. Walt drove my car as Brenda and I sat in back and just held each other all the way home. Neither of us could find any words to say what we felt. Mostly relief. It was finally over.