Chapter 6 - Pete Grappler P.I.

Pete and Cynthia organise their getaway.

 Chapter 6

 

We woke late, but that didn’t matter.  We had the whole day ahead, and I was catching up with my contacts that afternoon and into the evening.  It was time to convince Cynthia that we needed to get out of town.  I started over breakfast, at the first chance I had to stop looking at her gorgeous face with stars in my eyes and getting the same back, in spades, though I tried to skip that word because of Sam.

 

She was giving me a great view from her rear as she did the dishes, and I knew where heaven was, finally.  I came up to her and put my arms around her, held her close like I never wanted to let go, like I didn’t.

 

“Honey, you know we can’t keep on like this.  We’ve got to get you some place safe, and then I’ve just gotta come back alone to fix things for Sam, you know.  We gotta get outta this place, baby.  What do ya think?”

 

She turned around in my embrace, and kissed me on the nose, and said,

 

“I wanna go wherever you go.  Not sure I want you coming back here alone, though.  Could be dangerous, and I don’t want to lose you now!  We’ll go somewhere, sure, and start afresh.  Can’t we just go and skip all this.. this death and violence and stuff?”

 

I put on the tough guy again,

 

“Nah, not dangerous for me.  For the rat that did Sam it will be, trust me, but not for me!”

 

She pulled away, a frown on her face wrinkling that beautiful forehead,

 

“I’m not sure I believe that.  I just know it has to be dangerous for you!  Why don’t we just let it go, and just go?  I can pack enough things here?  I’ve got some money!”

 

Yeah, I wish I could, and I wish I had, right then, right then and there taken her up on that offer and just gone with her, maybe somewhere warm and quiet.  Yeah, a lotta things coulda been different….. but, hey, who’s perfect?

 

Her eyes brightened with a thought,

 

“I should pay you some cash, to help with expenses an’ all.  I owe you for the work you’ve done, and for Sam!”

 

“Aw, honey”, I said, taking her face in my hands and kissing her nose in return, “I ain’t no gigolo!  I’ve got a few bucks stashed in a bank somewhere close, we can get it on the way outta town.  It’s not much, but we can get by.”

 

“No, I didn’t mean that.. that you were a gigolo!”  Her hand flew to her mouth as she spoke, in shock!  “I never meant that!”

 

Now I just had to laugh, she looked so innocent standing there, a picture I could hold for a lifetime, and I stepped back a little and took a mock snapshot of her just like that, with my hands as a frame, and saying ‘click’ with a huge grin plastered across my face.  She got the joke, and tossed a little soapy water at me.

 

“You b*****d!”, she said, “You’re poking fun at me !”

 

I did a second shot of her all smiling and angry like that.

 

“Only fun, baby”, I said, “Only fun.”

 

She laughed again and tossed a little more soapy water my way, and I ducked, and grabbed her and we kissed forever, right there in the kitchen.  Yeah, I could get used to this life, and to being with her all the time mighty fast.  But business first, soon as we disengaged, all flushed and smiling again. 

 

Looking at her happy, smiling little girl face, I had second thoughts.  Nah, I just couldn’t do it so soon, couldn’t break that happy way she just looked at me.  Talking could wait.

 

Later, Grappler, I told myself, later.

 

*     *     *

 

I shoulda had more faith in Cynthia’s hillbilly sense.  She knew the score, and knew that we had to do something, and soon.  Yeah, she was a smart girl, all right.

 

It was getting towards 4 pm again and I figured I should maybe get on down and see my contacts, see what they’d dug on up ol’ Cyrus and his pals, so I told her I was going to shower again and go do my thing out there in the jungle.  I was meaning to wash up and then talk to her again about leaving, but she beat me to the draw, coming over and putting her arms around me, looking straight in my face,

 

“Pete, I know we have to get outta here, and we need to do it before Cyrus gets home again.  A lot less trouble that way, and some of his friends are .. you know.. pretty rough.  You go wash up and get ready, and go see all your pals out there.  I’ll be here when you get back, all packed and ready.  OK?”

 

“OK, Doll.  You are just the smartest and best looking little thing I ever saw.”

 

I just couldn’t resist throwing in a corny line,

 

“Where ya been all my life?”

 

Trouble was, I meant it, and could feel the beginnings of a tear or two pricking the back of my eyelids

 

She picked it up, and tossed it right back at me,

 

“Waiting for you, handsome!”

 

“Ok, baby”, I said after we broke our fiftieth clinch for the day, “now I’ve gotta get cleaned up and ready to go out.  We could save a little time and shower up together, how’s that?”

 

She picked a towel out of the closet and lead the way… yeah, what a woman!  And what a shower.  Aaah �" the good life!

 

*     *     *

 

Now back on the streets.  Yeah, the good life ain’t there for nothing, everybody knows ya gotta pay your dues, and mine was in shoe leather and mixing with people as tough as shoe leather.

 

I still had enough in my stash for a couple cab rides, so I headed off to see Lennie The Leech first, before he got too deep into the booze at some of the stockyard bars and was beyond remembering too much.

 

Word from Lennie was that some of the big boys in the cattle trade were staking ol’ Cyrus to a run on the Governor’s job, and doing it big time.  He was gonna open up their trade to the East a bit more and cut some taxes, maybe fix it with the railroads for some cheaper prices, so they figured it was a good deal. His cashier was Big Augie, one of the lowest lowlifes in town, and he was the pipeline for those nice carpet bags full of folding paper that Cyrus collected. 

 

Campaign funds, yeah �" bet that folding green never saw the inside of any party’s bank account, but I suppose even a rat politician has expenses!

 

I thanked Lennie and gave him my verbal marker for a couple of Gs and a good press wrap around town about his work in case anyone asked. He was still on that fifty and into the cheap stuff so he was OK for now.

 

*    *   *

 

Time to catch Gunshop Harry before he closed down, and help him lock up before we hit O’Shaunnessy’s for a drink and a talk.  Yeah, I was buying, and I was starting to figure I shoulda taken Cynthia up on a little of that gigolo money.  I walked in just on closing time, and Harry was putting up the locks and squirreling away the display pieces.

 

“Hi, Pete.  Be with ya in a minute.  Nearly done!”

 

Harry had a little .25 calibre automatic out of the display, a perfect lady’s gun, and a thought occurred to me.  Maybe I could get hold of that for Cynthia, so I could get my back-up piece back and in its usual place protecting the inside of my right ankle.

 

“Ah, Harry”, I said, “ya reckon I could  borrow that for a few days?  I’ll pay ya when I get back, promise!”

 

Harry looked surprised,

 

“Hell, Pete, whatcha gonna do with this little thing?  Got a few mountain lions ya wanna hunt?”

 

“Nah, Harry.  It’s for a friend!”

 

“This friend wouldn’t have a small hand, now, would he?  Or she?”

 

“She’s a she, Harry, and she’s holding my .32, and I’d like it back, just in case, you know.”

 

“Well, OK.  Just make sure she gets it back clean, and I’ll put it on your bill. And I’ll give ya a box of ammo for it.  You OK for the .45 and the .32?”

 

“Yeah, sure, Harry �" even got an extra mag for the colt in my pocket. I owe you one.  More than one, Harry.”

 

Harry waved his hand in the air in dismissal, and grunted a negative.  He couldn’t help much about Cyrus and his boy lovers, but hey, you can’t get everything every time just for asking.  Being in the gun business you get to meet all kinds, but not always the best of people or the ones with all the right contacts.

 

I thanked Harry and we shook hands.  He was staying a while but I had business elsewhere.  And I wanted to get back to Cynthia and out of town soon, mighty soon.

 

*     *     *

 

Ol’ Freddy the Snitch was playing his cards tight.. real tight.. and he wasn’t gonna part with much without seeing some stake money first.  Kinda made things a bit hard, and I leaned on him a little, but no dice.  Freddy wasn’t talking, which meant either he had something big to tell me, or he was running scared. 

 

No two ways with Freddy, he either talked or he didn’t, whatever the reason.

 

I told him I’d be back later with some greenbacks, and he gave me a sorta funny look, as if he somehow didn’t believe me or something.  Something was going down, and Freddie wanted no part of it without big money.  Either that or someone had put the fear of god into him, which sorta tied in with that look.

 

Either way Freddie was a dry well, too, but, hey, that’s why you gotta have lots of contacts, and why you carry a .45 everywhere, and maybe it was a good thing I’d got that .25 from Harry after all.  You just never knew.

 

*     *     *

 

Which brought me to Armand and his gypsies.  Yeah, those guys had their ear to the ground, all those years of trouble had taught them that much.  It was nearly six pm by now, and Armand would be at Luigi’s as usual to tidy up before opening. 

 

*     *     *

 

Armand split for the drinks, since he knew my tab had nearly knocked a hole in that glass ceiling, and I guess he figured he owed me one.  Good people these Gypsies, and bad to be on the wrong side of, from what I hear.

 

We took a chair each at a table, and Armand unfolded his hand of information slowly, one card at a time.  He sure knew how to make sure I understood and caught every bit..

 

His big piece of news was that a Gypsy relative �" well, I never �" I was starting to think that Armand was related to every goddamned Gypsy in town �" who owned an auto repair shop, had done a quick job on the front of Big Augie’s  rag-top touring car, and that it had some blood on it, too.

 

And Big Augie owned a .32 �" long barrel job, not like my snub-nose, but hey �" they had a different use in life.  Augie used his as his prime piece �" my little short-nose was only for emergencies.

 

So it was looking a pretty good fit that Big Augie had aced Sam, and I sure intended to resolve that with Augie, and some time soon.  Soon as I had Cynthia tucked away in a safe place, that is.

 

Yeah, Armand had his ears open to everything in town.  He even said that though the Mayor, Fealy himself, was a crony of Cyrus, it only went as far as business �" well, politics is business, after all �" and not into Cyrus’ personal lifestyle.  So I guess Fealy could stay outta my sights when it came time to see everybody’s cards, as long as he kept his pet bloodhound, none other than Jimmy the boy, off my case.  If not, I might take it personal, and I was in no mood to take prisoners.

 

Armand and I downed our drinks, and I shook his hand, real warm like, and said I’d be away for a few days..  Armand just nodded.  I guess he knew all about that by now, too.

 

*     *     *