16 Hitman (26 page)

"Not good enough. Tony Fusilli is pissed to find out I am still
alive, and orders Marsden hit."

"So why were they shooting Martin Kessler?" Thurman asked.

"They were never shooting Martin Kessler. They were always
shooting me. They tried to shoot me through the window of
Martin Kessler's apartment. And they made a pass at me in front of
the high school. Hitman Number 2 shows up, and Sergeant
Thurman shoots him dead"

"I know I should have read him his rights," Thurman said. "But
it takes too long. The guy would have reloaded."

Oh, my god. Thurman made a joke. Hell must have frozen over.

"So they bring in Hitman Number 3. Amanda Peet"

"Huh?"

"Hitwoman Number 3. Sheila Blaine. Who is on the scene
already. She's Marsden's ex-girlfriend, and she's still in the mob.
She's already met me and knows what I look like. The perfect
person to set me up."

"How'd you figure out they were after you?"

"I didn't. But I should have. The real clue was Louie Russo. I
talked to him in the lobby of Tony Fusilli's building. The next thing
I know he winds up dead. The obvious answer is Louie let something slip. Only he didn't. The other solution is I let something slip
that let them know I'm a threat. Only I didn't do that either.

"Or so it would appear.

"In point of fact, I actually told Louie something."

"What?" Thurman asked.

"My name. He asked me for identification. I showed him my
license. Stanley Hastings, private eye. That's what I told Louie, and
that's what Louie told Tony Fusilli. And that's what made Tony
mad enough to beat him to death with whatever was handy.

"Tony's been trying to have me killed for a week. Here I walk
into his building, tell Louie I want to see Tony, and Louie sends
me packing. Tony can't believe it. The dumb schmuck actually
sent me away.

"So, with the court date approaching and time running out, we
have a daring daylight move. They take a shot at me the next
morning when I get in my car. It misses, and the arrival of a traffic
cop foils any second attempt.

"The police take it seriously enough to assign me a cop. He's
no secret service agent but good enough to keep the wolf at bay."
I grimaced. "Did I really say `wolf at bay'? I think you can get
kicked out of the Private Eye Writers of America for that."

"Schmuck," MacAullif said.

"The unthinkable happens. I make it to court. They gotta
figure some way to get me out. Fusilli's lawyers stall like crazy to
keep me off the stand."

"Fusilli's lawyers?"

"The idiot nephew hired them, but we know who's footing
the bill. Anyway, that's what's happening in court. But it won't last
forever. They gotta get me out of there.

"So, they bring in Hitman Number 3. Marsden's ex. I met her
before, so it's natural for her to talk to me. They send her to the
courthouse to pick me up. Her cover story is she's doing jury duty.
But she isn't prepped, and she makes mistakes. She didn't know
what a ballot was. And she thought there were no more deferments instead of no more exemptions."

"Gee. If she was less attractive, that might have tipped you off,"
MacAullif said.

I ignored the comment. "Her job is simple. Take me out to
lunch and sit me in the window. For Hitman Number 4."

"Who missed." MacAullif cocked his head at Thurman. "If you
hadn't shot him, he'd have been in deep shit"

"I don't understand about the girl," Thurman said. "How'd she
get involved? I thought she was a schoolteacher."

"She was. But she met Marsden. Went with him for two years.
She claimed she never knew what he did. That's bullshit. She not
only knew about it, she helped him do it. When they split up, she
still had mob connections. Which had to be embarrassing for him.
That's probably why he tweaked her by using her current
boyfriend's name"

"Can you prove all that?" MacAullif said.

I shook my head. "None of it. But, hey, it's not my case.
Crowley's the one who has to prove it. Which won't be easy with
the hitman dead."

"Sorry about that," Thurman said. "But guess what? The dumb
fuck had caller ID. Crowley's tracing his phone calls now. By the
time he gets done, everyone is going down"

"Including the girl?"

MacAullif gave me his best I-am-dealing-with-a-moron look.
"The one who tried to have you killed?" He cocked his head. "I
think you could safely say Harmon High is going to be needing a
substitute teacher"

I CAUGHT UP WITH RICHARD before he left the office. He was
not in a good mood. "Well, they got a continuance," he groused.
"Which is hardly fair. They get what they wanted for trying to kill
my witness."

"How long?"

"Six weeks"

I groaned. "I gotta spend the next six weeks looking over my
shoulder to see if Fusilli hired anyone else?"

"No. We're taking your deposition tomorrow. After that, even if
they kill you, we can read it into the record."

"Somehow I find that small consolation."

"Don't be a dope. If it will do him no good to kill you, he won't
bother."

"I understand the concept. This is a guy who murdered his own
henchman in a blind fury for not mentioning my name."

"Once again, money was involved."

"Speaking of which?"

"What?"

"The Yolanda Smith case."

"I told you I'll take it."

"Drop it.'

"Huh?"

"It's a bad case.You don't want it."

"I know it's a bad case. You made me take it."

"I shouldn't have done that. Drop the case"

Richard peered at me narrowly. "You're getting cold feet? You
don't want to testify in the Jerome Robinson case?"

"I don't give a damn about the Jerome Robinson case. You're
suing the City of NewYork. I don't think they'll send a hitman to
stop me"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. I took the pictures, you can do anything you want with them.You put me on the stand, I'll identify
them.You can ask me anything.You know what questions to ask.
But I'm not gonna lie. If they ask me if there are any other pictures,
I'll tell them. But they're not gonna think to ask me, are they?"

"No" Richard frowned. "You really want me to drop the
Yolanda Smith case?"

"Yeah."

"How cone?"

"It's gonna be bolstered by the perjured testimony of a pornographer with a financial interest in the outcome."

Richard shrugged. "What's the down side?"

There endeth the story of the hitman with the heart of gold.
Poor son of a bitch. If he'd just whacked me, as ordered, none of
this would have happened. But, no, the schmuck had to have a
conscience. Considered me too good to kill. I resent that. I'm
worth killing as much as the next guy.

I don't know how Marsden's scenario played out. In his head, I mean. Would lie make an unsuccessful pass at me that alerted the
cops, that resulted more or less in what eventually happened? Or
would he finally say "Aw, fuck it" and whack me? Having afforded
nee two or three extra days of life for being a nice guy. Whatever
his intention, he didn't deserve to die. At least not for that. I'm sure
lie deserved to die ten times over for his various transgressions. But
it's sort of nice to think that, no matter how bad he had been, he
managed to do one decent thing in his life.

Of course, it killed him.

I turned in my time sheets, got in illy car, and drove home.

No one tried to shoot me.