Slow Count.
“One,” Deep Breath.
“Two,” Deep Breath.
“Three,” Deep Breath.
“Four,” Deep Breath.
“Five,” Deep Breath.
“Six,” Deep Breath.
“Seven,” Deep breath.
“Eight,” Deep Breath.
“Nine,” Deep Breath.
“Ten.”
I turned the corner of the old garage. My, 45 semi-auto at the ready, cocked. Round in the chamber.
In the back I found Manny.
"Morning Manny.
I’ve got some questions for you.”
I aimed my gun at him. A gentle squeeze of the trigger and the last thing Manny would see would be to fire belching from the barrel of my gun.
I have hurt him before. But as much as I hated him I had never wanted to kill him before.
My voice was slow and even, I glanced at the clock on the back wall of the garage. Six Am. It was still dark. Looking around the bay. I spotted an old office chair, that had long since seen better days. I motioned to it, Told Manny to go get it. Slowly. Once he had it over on the work bench. I told him to sit in it. I found a bunch of old wire from a dash wiring harness. I tied him up with it. With my the gun back in the shoulder holster. Surveying the bay, I spotted a large socket wrench. I noticed it was a 1-inch drive, it weighed several pounds and was probably 18 inches to two feet long. I got it and walked back to Manny.
“Manny, I need you to tell me about Willie Black.”
I showed him a picture of Willie. The one from where Brenda had shot him Friday night.
“Yes, he dead. He was shot Friday night. Trying to break into my wife’s bar. Tell Me about him. Where’s he been the last six months.? We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you tell me what you know and I leave. The hard way is I take my time, and you still tell me.” I glanced around the room again. Spotting an engine block hanging by several chains, on a hoist. I pulled out my gun. One single shot. The noise was deafening in the enclosed space. The effect is immediate.One of the chains holding the block up snapped. And the whole engine block fell a couple feet to the cement floor. Smashing the oil pan, and several other parts of the block, It probably cracked the head too. But I didn’t care.
“Let me guess, That was a customer’s?” I asked replacing the gun in my holster. Manny nodded.
“Now tell me about While.” I pressed. He shook his head.
“Who you afraid of, Manny.?” I leaned into his face. “Because, whoever it is, Isn’t here right now. I am. I am in no mood to play games. You tell me about them, or I get physical.”
My voice was low and even. I picked up the socket wrench.
“You know, I could shoot you several times, But that would be the easy way. Today, It's personal. You tell me about Brenda. Someone tried to hurt her, or worse, That makes it personal. Very Personal.” I took off my Trench Coat, hanging it on a reasonably clean hook near the door, I tossed my fedora aside. I grabbed his left hand. Plopping it on the edge of the bench. I held it down and Smashed the Socket wrench down on the back of his hand. I hit him as hard as I could. Bones cracked, and blood spurted out from the point of impact on the back of his hand. The look of pain and the scream that came from him was satisfying. World War Two had taught me to deal out pain. I was good at it. But I had never enjoyed it. Until now.
“Willie, Manny, tell me what going on.” I let him stew in the pain from his now broken left hand. “Don’t pass out on me, Manny, we’re not done.” I found the sink in the small disgusting bathroom. Filling an old coffee mug with water, I came back and splashed his face. I grabbed his right hand. Once again the socket wrench came down. Blood spatted, and bones cracked. Manny again screamed in pain, I could tell he was about to pass out.
“Willie.!” I shout at him, to cut through the pain. I knew he hurt, he was supposed to. But I wasn’t done.
I let him think for a few minutes.
“So tell me, Manny, How much is this shop worth? Is it worth not telling me about Willie? Who has you so scared, You won’t even talk to me?” The quietness of my voice didn't betray my anger. He just shook his head.
“Why Manny? What can they do to you I can’t? I already proved to you I will kill you slowly if need be, Can they do worst?”
But now the clock on the back wall said six thirty. I glanced outside it was just getting light. With the sunlight peeking through the open bay door, I could make out the calendars hung up on the back wall, on either side of the clock, both showed scantily clad girls and cars.
“All right Manny, Have it your way.” With that, I rolled him and the chair outside in the middle of the driveway. I took a quick look around, There was nothing nearby that could catch fire. Back in the garage, I retrieved my trenchcoat, and fedora, before I found several old gas cans, that still had some gas in them. Dumping the gas liberally around the garage, I grabbed the socket wrench and headed back outside.
As I passed by the front desk, I took a stack of invoices.
“Manny, This is your last chance to tell me about Wille, and who he was working for.”
“I don’t know anything, I never heard who was looking for Brenda. I never saw that Willie guy either. Man I’m telling you what I know, I don’t know Nuthin’”
He managed to get out through the pain of two broken hands.
“Come on, you can do better than that. You know everything that goes on in LA.”
“No, Not this time. Whoever went after her, wasn’t from around here, or I would have heard something. It was from out of town.” Manny gasped in pain.
At this point, I didn’t care. I had already made my mind up.
“Manny, too little too late.”
With that, I lite the pile of invoices and let them burn for a second and went to bay door and tossed them in. They landed in a puddle of gas. Which immediately flamed up in a puff, and the fire ate the gas quickly before finding something else to burn. With seconds the whole bay was filled with smoke and fire.
I turned back to Manny. I said nothing as I walked past him to my car.
The flames roared through the windows into morning sunrise as I pulled out of the driveway.
I headed back to the city. Brenda and I have been married now for over four years. We’d meet back in high school., By the end of the war, I had been declared MIA and presumed dead. Once Brenda had tried to have a new boyfriend. It didn’t end well, and he was killed in a bar fight. When I came home, we took up where we left off and remarried. Her dad had given her the bar, as he couldn’t run it anymore.
I parked in the alley behind the bar, and let myself in the back door. It was far too early for anyone to be around. And no one was. Locking up behind me. I went into the kitchen, walking past the broken stockroom door, and the chalk marks on the floor. I pulled out a beer from the refrigerator. Yeah, It's too early for one, but I needed it. I drank it down quickly as I found the fixing for an early breakfast. It was still only 8 am. In my office, I sat and ate, and thought. I’d already been to see Robert Clay, and before I found her, and after I’d found her, we filled reports on reports. After the gunfight in the bar last year, we’d completely redone the back section, adding a private office and entrance for me, along with a small room for sleeping if I needed to not go home for some reason. I’d used it couple of times. All the doors were heavy and double locked and kept locked at all times.
Suddenly I was tired. This morning's incident with Manny had left me coming off an adrenaline rush. Which added to my being tired. I finished my meal, cleaned up and headed for the bunk room. Along the way, I made sure the doors were locked up tight. The stockroom door as tight as I could get it now. I finally did sleep but it wasn’t a good sleep. I woke up a couple hours later. The first thing I did was reholster my guns, and head for the bathroom. Necessary things done, I felt a little better.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Noon. I slept longer than I wanted.
But it was needed. I couldn’t run on pure adrenaline and anger forever.
I left the bar and headed downtown. At the police station, I headed straight for Robert Clay’s office.
I knocked on the doorframe as I entered his open door.
“Morning Bob” I walked over to coffee pot and helped myself to a cup.
“Don’t you look wonderful, Actually you look like shit.”
“Good, because that's the way I feel right now.” I sat down in an empty chair and sipped my coffee.
“Manny’s in the hospital, Two broken hands, He refuses to say who did it.”
“OH,” I commented back pretending not to know anything about it.
“And the garage was burned to the ground.” Bob continued.
“It's about time, that place was a dump.” I pointed out.
“Look, Jim, we both know what happened. You talked to Manny, and he would or couldn’t tell you anything, and you went a little crazy.”
“Actually he did tell me something. Sort of. He said it was from out of town. He hadn’t heard anything,” I explained.
“I need to head back over to Walt’s and then get back to the bar, and see what more can be done about securing the back doors better.”
Outside on the street, I stopped and looked around. Stretching gave me an excuse to see who was around. At six in the evening it was still plenty light, and hot. A number of late model cars were parked in various places on both sides of the street. I watched a couple close to see if anyone was in them. Everything looked normal, as normal as the front of a police station can look.
It wasn't until I stopped at the end of the block that I noticed them.
This was the last thing I needed. Being tailed. I let the black Plymouth follow me for a couple of blocks. I didn't want to have to deal with them;
So at the next light, I gunned my old Ford, By the time I had reached the next block they were so far behind me, I made a last second sharp right and then another left. By the time they made the block and the Right, I’d already turned left and was gone. Once I was sure I’d lost them, I relaxed a bit. Suddenly I was hungry. Spotting a dinner, I pulled in and parked for an easy exit. Inside I ordered a coffee. The roast beef and gravy, and side order of mash potatoes filled me up pretty good. I topped it off with a piece of apple pie. And at least one more cup of coffee. I paid for it, it was less than two dollars I left a dollar tip. I collected my trenchcoat and fedora and headed back to the car. In the parking lot, I spent several minutes looking around. As tired as I was, I wasn’t about to be surprised. No black Plymouth coupe. Firing up the old Ford, I headed back to Walt's place.
It was almost seven in the evening and still hot. Walt's place had become a second home to us, after the events last year. Having had to stay in hiding for several days. I had my own key, and I knocked before unlocking the front door.
“One,” Deep Breath.
“Two,” Deep Breath.
“Three,” Deep Breath.
“Four,” Deep Breath.
“Five,” Deep Breath.
“Six,” Deep Breath.
“Seven,” Deep breath.
“Eight,” Deep Breath.
“Nine,” Deep Breath.
“Ten.”
I turned the corner of the old garage. My, 45 semi-auto at the ready, cocked. Round in the chamber.
In the back I found Manny.
"Morning Manny.
I’ve got some questions for you.”
I aimed my gun at him. A gentle squeeze of the trigger and the last thing Manny would see would be to fire belching from the barrel of my gun.
I have hurt him before. But as much as I hated him I had never wanted to kill him before.
My voice was slow and even, I glanced at the clock on the back wall of the garage. Six Am. It was still dark. Looking around the bay. I spotted an old office chair, that had long since seen better days. I motioned to it, Told Manny to go get it. Slowly. Once he had it over on the work bench. I told him to sit in it. I found a bunch of old wire from a dash wiring harness. I tied him up with it. With my the gun back in the shoulder holster. Surveying the bay, I spotted a large socket wrench. I noticed it was a 1-inch drive, it weighed several pounds and was probably 18 inches to two feet long. I got it and walked back to Manny.
“Manny, I need you to tell me about Willie Black.”
I showed him a picture of Willie. The one from where Brenda had shot him Friday night.
“Yes, he dead. He was shot Friday night. Trying to break into my wife’s bar. Tell Me about him. Where’s he been the last six months.? We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The easy way is you tell me what you know and I leave. The hard way is I take my time, and you still tell me.” I glanced around the room again. Spotting an engine block hanging by several chains, on a hoist. I pulled out my gun. One single shot. The noise was deafening in the enclosed space. The effect is immediate.One of the chains holding the block up snapped. And the whole engine block fell a couple feet to the cement floor. Smashing the oil pan, and several other parts of the block, It probably cracked the head too. But I didn’t care.
“Let me guess, That was a customer’s?” I asked replacing the gun in my holster. Manny nodded.
“Now tell me about While.” I pressed. He shook his head.
“Who you afraid of, Manny.?” I leaned into his face. “Because, whoever it is, Isn’t here right now. I am. I am in no mood to play games. You tell me about them, or I get physical.”
My voice was low and even. I picked up the socket wrench.
“You know, I could shoot you several times, But that would be the easy way. Today, It's personal. You tell me about Brenda. Someone tried to hurt her, or worse, That makes it personal. Very Personal.” I took off my Trench Coat, hanging it on a reasonably clean hook near the door, I tossed my fedora aside. I grabbed his left hand. Plopping it on the edge of the bench. I held it down and Smashed the Socket wrench down on the back of his hand. I hit him as hard as I could. Bones cracked, and blood spurted out from the point of impact on the back of his hand. The look of pain and the scream that came from him was satisfying. World War Two had taught me to deal out pain. I was good at it. But I had never enjoyed it. Until now.
“Willie, Manny, tell me what going on.” I let him stew in the pain from his now broken left hand. “Don’t pass out on me, Manny, we’re not done.” I found the sink in the small disgusting bathroom. Filling an old coffee mug with water, I came back and splashed his face. I grabbed his right hand. Once again the socket wrench came down. Blood spatted, and bones cracked. Manny again screamed in pain, I could tell he was about to pass out.
“Willie.!” I shout at him, to cut through the pain. I knew he hurt, he was supposed to. But I wasn’t done.
I let him think for a few minutes.
“So tell me, Manny, How much is this shop worth? Is it worth not telling me about Willie? Who has you so scared, You won’t even talk to me?” The quietness of my voice didn't betray my anger. He just shook his head.
“Why Manny? What can they do to you I can’t? I already proved to you I will kill you slowly if need be, Can they do worst?”
But now the clock on the back wall said six thirty. I glanced outside it was just getting light. With the sunlight peeking through the open bay door, I could make out the calendars hung up on the back wall, on either side of the clock, both showed scantily clad girls and cars.
“All right Manny, Have it your way.” With that, I rolled him and the chair outside in the middle of the driveway. I took a quick look around, There was nothing nearby that could catch fire. Back in the garage, I retrieved my trenchcoat, and fedora, before I found several old gas cans, that still had some gas in them. Dumping the gas liberally around the garage, I grabbed the socket wrench and headed back outside.
As I passed by the front desk, I took a stack of invoices.
“Manny, This is your last chance to tell me about Wille, and who he was working for.”
“I don’t know anything, I never heard who was looking for Brenda. I never saw that Willie guy either. Man I’m telling you what I know, I don’t know Nuthin’”
He managed to get out through the pain of two broken hands.
“Come on, you can do better than that. You know everything that goes on in LA.”
“No, Not this time. Whoever went after her, wasn’t from around here, or I would have heard something. It was from out of town.” Manny gasped in pain.
At this point, I didn’t care. I had already made my mind up.
“Manny, too little too late.”
With that, I lite the pile of invoices and let them burn for a second and went to bay door and tossed them in. They landed in a puddle of gas. Which immediately flamed up in a puff, and the fire ate the gas quickly before finding something else to burn. With seconds the whole bay was filled with smoke and fire.
I turned back to Manny. I said nothing as I walked past him to my car.
The flames roared through the windows into morning sunrise as I pulled out of the driveway.
I headed back to the city. Brenda and I have been married now for over four years. We’d meet back in high school., By the end of the war, I had been declared MIA and presumed dead. Once Brenda had tried to have a new boyfriend. It didn’t end well, and he was killed in a bar fight. When I came home, we took up where we left off and remarried. Her dad had given her the bar, as he couldn’t run it anymore.
I parked in the alley behind the bar, and let myself in the back door. It was far too early for anyone to be around. And no one was. Locking up behind me. I went into the kitchen, walking past the broken stockroom door, and the chalk marks on the floor. I pulled out a beer from the refrigerator. Yeah, It's too early for one, but I needed it. I drank it down quickly as I found the fixing for an early breakfast. It was still only 8 am. In my office, I sat and ate, and thought. I’d already been to see Robert Clay, and before I found her, and after I’d found her, we filled reports on reports. After the gunfight in the bar last year, we’d completely redone the back section, adding a private office and entrance for me, along with a small room for sleeping if I needed to not go home for some reason. I’d used it couple of times. All the doors were heavy and double locked and kept locked at all times.
Suddenly I was tired. This morning's incident with Manny had left me coming off an adrenaline rush. Which added to my being tired. I finished my meal, cleaned up and headed for the bunk room. Along the way, I made sure the doors were locked up tight. The stockroom door as tight as I could get it now. I finally did sleep but it wasn’t a good sleep. I woke up a couple hours later. The first thing I did was reholster my guns, and head for the bathroom. Necessary things done, I felt a little better.
I glanced at the clock on the wall. Noon. I slept longer than I wanted.
But it was needed. I couldn’t run on pure adrenaline and anger forever.
I left the bar and headed downtown. At the police station, I headed straight for Robert Clay’s office.
I knocked on the doorframe as I entered his open door.
“Morning Bob” I walked over to coffee pot and helped myself to a cup.
“Don’t you look wonderful, Actually you look like shit.”
“Good, because that's the way I feel right now.” I sat down in an empty chair and sipped my coffee.
“Manny’s in the hospital, Two broken hands, He refuses to say who did it.”
“OH,” I commented back pretending not to know anything about it.
“And the garage was burned to the ground.” Bob continued.
“It's about time, that place was a dump.” I pointed out.
“Look, Jim, we both know what happened. You talked to Manny, and he would or couldn’t tell you anything, and you went a little crazy.”
“Actually he did tell me something. Sort of. He said it was from out of town. He hadn’t heard anything,” I explained.
“I need to head back over to Walt’s and then get back to the bar, and see what more can be done about securing the back doors better.”
Outside on the street, I stopped and looked around. Stretching gave me an excuse to see who was around. At six in the evening it was still plenty light, and hot. A number of late model cars were parked in various places on both sides of the street. I watched a couple close to see if anyone was in them. Everything looked normal, as normal as the front of a police station can look.
It wasn't until I stopped at the end of the block that I noticed them.
This was the last thing I needed. Being tailed. I let the black Plymouth follow me for a couple of blocks. I didn't want to have to deal with them;
So at the next light, I gunned my old Ford, By the time I had reached the next block they were so far behind me, I made a last second sharp right and then another left. By the time they made the block and the Right, I’d already turned left and was gone. Once I was sure I’d lost them, I relaxed a bit. Suddenly I was hungry. Spotting a dinner, I pulled in and parked for an easy exit. Inside I ordered a coffee. The roast beef and gravy, and side order of mash potatoes filled me up pretty good. I topped it off with a piece of apple pie. And at least one more cup of coffee. I paid for it, it was less than two dollars I left a dollar tip. I collected my trenchcoat and fedora and headed back to the car. In the parking lot, I spent several minutes looking around. As tired as I was, I wasn’t about to be surprised. No black Plymouth coupe. Firing up the old Ford, I headed back to Walt's place.
It was almost seven in the evening and still hot. Walt's place had become a second home to us, after the events last year. Having had to stay in hiding for several days. I had my own key, and I knocked before unlocking the front door.