Chapter 7 - Pete Grappler P.I.

Pete and Cynthia take it on the lam, and a series of mistakes ends in disaster.....

 Chapter 7

 

I figured I had enough to go on, once I got back from stashing Cynthia, and it was a matter of getting the right people in the right place at the right time to settle things.

 

I felt pretty good as I rode that elevator back up to her penthouse, and when the door opened I was waiting for that rush of breathlessness that she was giving me all the time now.  Yeah �" I could get used to that real quick, and maybe I already had.

 

I nearly skipped outta that door, looking for my honey….

 

No Cynthia! Nowhere in sight, and I automatically put my hand on my .45 before I checked around, though I couldn’t figure that anyone but Cyrus would have another key to her apartment, and Cyrus might be some kinda big cheese around Chicago, but he was no Pete Grappler.

 

She’d left a note for me on the table, and I picked it up, and as I read it my jaw dropped.

 

She’d decided to go back to her big house, her home or whatever you want to call it for her and Cyrus, to get hold of a few things, including her grandmother’s wedding ring that she had, and a few extra things she had lying around that she wanted to make sure she kept.

 

Sounded innocent enough, but somewhere deep in the old Grappler bones something was telling me that this was a bad move.

 

There was nothing I could do �" I was money shy after my recent cab rides, and already Cynthia would be the one splitting for gas money using her car, too, at least until we got to my bank, so there was no way I could just go hop a cab.

 

I’d thought that those minutes waiting to jump over from the trenches at the Argonne had been long, but this was the longest wait of my life, with that something inside telling me all the time that this was a bad, bad move.  My hands shook so much I spilt some of Cynthia’s whiskey that I grabbed to steady my thoughts a little.

 

An hour later she showed, but not the Cynthia that I’d left.  She had a mighty big black eye and more bruises on her spirit, I think, and she had been crying.. lots of crying.

 

I sat her down and poured her a drink, then settled next to her until she was ready to talk. When I thought that time had come, I asked,

 

“What happened, Babe!  Tell me!”

 

She started, stopped and started again,

 

“I was packing some stuff and Cyrus.. came home early.  He said he had some business and that he couldn’t stay long.  When he saw my case packed with some clothes and stuff, he got angry.. real angry.  I’ve never seen him like this.  I mean,  them other times he’d always been sorta cold, not angry, even when he hurt me.  He wanted to know what I thought I was doing, and I couldn’t help it, Pete �" I told him I was leaving.”

 

She was pretty upset and I held her close for a minute, and said,

 

“It’s OK, Baby.  It’s OK.  We’re getting outta here.  I’ve got all I need and we just haveta get going, and soon!”

 

She needed to tell it all, so I waited.

 

“He.. he hit me, hard and I fell down.  Then he grabbed my handbag and took my keys and stuff, so I couldn’t get away in my car.  Then he left, warning me to be there when he got back.. or else.  He didn’t know I had an extra set of keys, and I got those and got my bag loaded in the car…. and then I went back in for one last thing!”

 

She looked at me with that look a woman has when she’s getting her revenge on some a*****e.. yeah, I’ve seen that one,

 

“I know where he keeps all those bags of money.. and I went back and loaded seven of them into my car trunk!”

 

I was stunned, that just had to be the worst thing to do right now, and sure to stir Cyrus and his boys up, but I could understand why she did it.  There was no backing out now... we just had to do the best we could with that cash, and run like hell!

 

“I figure I’ve got about three quarters of a million bucks there in my trunk… and he owes me that.. for all.. for all “…

 

She started crying now, and I held her tight until she looked like stopping, and said,

 

“Honey, we have GOT to get outta here �" NOW!  Cyrus and his boys’ll come gunning for us now, with all that moolah gone from his stake!  And we need to make some tracks!  Does he know I’m here with you?

 

“I don’t think so, he never said a word about you.  But you’re right, Pete, let’s get outta here now!”

 

“Hold on, Baby”, I said, “I’ve got a little something for you, for emergencies.”

 

I reached into my pocket and brought out the .25 I’d got from Gunshop Harry.

 

“This is more your size.  Just keep it close, and if you need to use it, just pull this back and squeeze, don’t pull that trigger.  Go for the center of your target, and keep shooting until he drops, OK?  Now you can give me back that heavy pistol.”

 

She picked up her handbag, and handed me my faithful old .32, and put the .25 in its place.  We were ready to roll!

 

I didn’t need to pack, just get to some place where we could stash that loot and high-tail it for Indiana and a nice little farm down by a lake owned by a friend from the Marines, who was sure to make sure nobody came anywhere near Cynthia while I was away on business.

 

We hit that elevator fast, and I checked the parking lot real careful before we went to her car.  Nobody in sight �" so far, so good!

 

As she drove I explained to her that we were going to drop off most of that cash.  We couldn’t tote 750Gs all across the Great Lakes with every copper looking for anything a bit strange, and every two-bit stick-up man looking for a free ride. It’s be safe until we got back, and the whole business was cleared up.

 

We’d drop it off at Botheby’s, a bank that stayed open 24 hours a day, but only for signed-up customers, just like me.  24 hours a day, and a secret password to get you in the door, and another one for when you sent someone else to get something for you from your safety deposit box, just so the guards wouldn’t shoot him on sight for trying to get into your account. You could only go in alone, so Cynthia would have to wait outside, and I told her to stay low and stay outta sight and not too far from the door.

 

Had to be some money in banking just to run a business like that, and I guess Botheby’s was working the Stock Market like everybody else was, and making a fortune doing it with other people’s money.

 

After I opened up a new box, I told Cynthia, I’d put the key in an envelope and post it to my office.  That way we couldn’t lose it or have it taken away from us by anyone.. not even Cyrus and his pals.

 

I was nervous as a cat leaving Cynthia outside on her own, but what choice did I have?  I slipped Roger the guard a twenty outta one of those bags to keep an eye on her through the glass windows, but he couldn’t go out or anything, and went as fast as I could to open that new security box account and stash the bags.

 

I took ten grand all marked up ready and banded as our traveling money.  That should do for a while.

 

When I’d finished, I had to wait for Roger to open the door with the electric remote, and I was nearly sick with worry by the time it finally clicked and swung open without a sound..

 

Cynthia was still there �" we were gonna be OK.  All we had to do now was post that key and we were gone, and she’d never have to see Cyrus again.

 

*     *     *

 

We stopped at a late night post office, and I told her again not to go away from the car, and to keep outta sight, and I positively flew into that post office to buy a stamp.

 

The clerk seemed to think it was a public holiday, shuffling a coupla papers and stuff before he looked up regally, as if doing me a big favour.

 

I bought my stamp and a fresh envelope from him, shoved the key inside and addressed it, stuck the stamp on it and put it in the mail box next to the bench and turned ..

 

..and looked through the big glass window just in time to see a car pull up and Big Augie and a guy carrying a shotgun get out and start towards Cynthia, and to see her get outta the car and start blazing away with that little .25.

 

I couldn’t move fast enough to get to that door, and as I ran to it I saw Augie raise his pistol and fire, twice, in Cynthia’s direction.  She clutched her chest and fell…

 

*     *     *

 

“Cynthia!”, my shout hardly made it out of my suddenly constricted throat and was barely a whisper.

 

That door slammed back and I went through it like a whirlwind, dragging my Colt out of its holster as I ran, and headed straight for Big Augie and his boys.  The driver was watching Augie working, and never saw me coming .  At the last second he looked at me, startled, and I pumped two .45s into him.  His head hit the horn and his foot musta gone down on the gas, because the car jumped ahead and hit a light pole, bursting into flames, the horn still blaring like a demon on All Saints Day.

 

Augie and the shot-gun guy both turned.  Shot-gun was holding on to his left arm where Cynthia had winged him with one of those .25s - I took him first �" had to or I was mush, and I put two into his belly.  He sorta sagged and went down on one knee dropping the rod and then curled up in a ball, mewling, and I switched to Big Augie.  Not fast enough!  I felt a hammer blow in my right arm and my left leg all at the same time as Augie pumped out the lead.   I went down and rolled , the .45 flying from my right hand that felt nothing now, and grabbed at my left leg with my good hand, remembering to take hold of my back-up piece inside my right ankle as I rolled, and palming it so Augie couldn’t see.

 

Augie was confident now, and took his time, even laughing as he reloaded his long-barreled .32, the same gun that I figured had killed Sam. He started walking towards me, smiling at my .45 on the street fifteen feet away from me, far enough for all eternity.

 

“Thought you was good, Grappler?  Yeah, this is the gat the did for that N****r prick, and you can say hello to him soon!  Won’t be sticking yer nose into other people’s business so much then, will ya?  Say good-bye!”

 

He was so busy talking to himself that he hadn’t even lifted his gun to aim yet, and he was close enough now for a clean shot with my short barreled heater.  I’d taught myself, first thing in the Marines, to shoot with both hands, just in case - and this was both justin and a case, right now.  As Augie stood there gloating, I raised my arm and shot him, twice, in the chest.

 

He looked surprised and amazed, raised a hand to the front of his chest and took his fingers away and looked down, seeing the blood spreading like a flower all over his nice silk shirt all of a sudden.  His .32 slipped outta his hand, and he slid down to his knees, still confused and wondering, blood starting to run from his mouth, so I knew he was a goner.  And then he looked at me with that same mixed-up look, trying to figure out what’d happened. 

 

I looked him right back in the eyes from down there at street level on those cold, hard stones,

 

“This one’s for Sam, you b*****d!”,

 

…and shot him between the eyes.  His eyes went blank and he toppled over face down on the stones.  I thought I heard a couple of teeth break as he hit the road, but I didn’t give a damn

 

I tried to get to my feet, I hadda get to Cynthia, but I was only halfway up before I fell over again, getting weak I figured since I was bleeding pretty good myself, and so I half dragged, half shuffled myself along.  The car was still burning like a torch, and I had no idea if the driver was alive or not and cooking in there.

 

“Burn, you b*****d”, I said, just in case.

 

As I passed shotgun boy whimpering on the ground, I put another one into him, and he jerked and was still. He’d be no more trouble.

 

I could hear the sirens starting up and getting close, and I fell, more than once, but I wasn‘t gonna stop trying, not even if it killed me, until I reached Cynthia where she lay on that cold road.  I got there finally, and there wasn’t much blood, just a spot right over her heart, and I got my one good arm under her and lifted her up, shook her gently,

 

“Come on, baby”, I begged, “Come on!  I’m here now �" I’m here!”

 

..and then just sorta fell back there holding her close as could be while the tears started.

 

She wasn’t breathing, never would again, Augie had hit her right in the heart, and I knew it was over.  There’d be no home and no family and no future for this hillbilly’s daughter.. nor for me neither.

 

I held her to me as the tears ran like a river, and raised my face to the darkening sky, and howled out as loud as the doors of hell grating open like a banshee until the sirens came and blanked me out.

 

*     *     *