Cold City (Repairman Jack - the Early Years Trilogy) (32 page)

Earlier in the day, Jack had left The Main Event to make a quick trip by train to his apartment where he retrieved his lock-pick kit. 

He’d worked in Abe’s uncle’s store as a teen.  Every so often Mr. Rosen would buy an old piece of furniture – an armoire, a china cabinet, a bureau – that would arrive locked with the key long lost.  The old guy had a lock-picking kit and had taught Jack how to open the doors and drawers without a key.  Later, Jack had bought a kit of his own and had kept it through college.  The skill had come in handy many a time when drunken dorm mates would find themselves locked out of their rooms. 

He’d returned to Zalesky’s neighborhood in time to see him wander home from The Main Event.  With nothing better to do, Jack hung around, hoping to see him leave.  And sometime after dark, he did just that, carrying a small duffel.  But he was dressed all in black – black jeans, black sweatshirt, black sneakers and socks, even a black watch cap.  Not nearly as dashing as Cary Grant in
To Catch a Thief
, but he did look like he might have a little B & E action on his mind.

Jack’s plan had been to break into his apartment while he was out and relieve him of a certain black briefcase.  But Zalesky’s commandolike get-up piqued Jack’s curiosity.  What the hell was he up to?

Only one way to find out.

Going after the briefcase could wait until later. 

He followed Zalesky to the nearby train station where he hopped the 6, just as Jack had earlier.  Jack boarded one car back.  He stood by the door at the front end of his car so he could watch Zalesky.  When he got off at Longwood Avenue, Jack had a pretty damn good idea where he was going.

Rosa’s.

Julio had given him her address, and the
hijo de puta
was headed in that direction.  He gave Zalesky a half block lead on Longwood and watched him turn onto Rosa’s block on Hewitt Place.  But when Jack reached the corner, he was gone.

Not good.  Was he in the building already?  If so, Jack had to warn Rosa.  He found a phone book on the opposite corner and called The Spot.

“Is Rosa home?” he said when Julio answered.

“No.  She working.  Why?”

“I think ‘the Ghost’ is about to pay another visit.”

Some garbled Spanish, then,
“I be right there.”

“No-no-no.  You stay put.  Be your usual less-than-charming self.  Make sure everybody knows you’re there.”

“What’re you gonna do?”

“Zap him with my neutrona wand.”

“What?”

“Never mind.  Just stay there and be noticed.”

Jack found a shadowed doorway and watched the three-story building.  Julio had said Rosa’s apartment was on the top floor but Jack didn’t know which windows were hers.  So he kept watching the third floor, waiting for lights to go on.  And while he was watching, he spotted movement on the roof – just a hint.  As if someone dressed in black was lurking up there.

Had to be Zalesky.  Either he knew how to pick a lock or he’d gotten hold of a key.  Jack had no key, but he had something almost as good.

He removed a tension bar and a couple of picks from his kit, then crossed the street toward Rosa’s front door.  The outer door opened into a small vestibule; the inner door was locked.  The doorknob was a Kwikset.  Cool.  He loved Kwiksets.

With his left hand, Jack inserted the tension bar into the knob’s keyhole and applied gentle clockwise pressure.  He worked the pick in and began raking the pins in the cylinder.  He didn’t have to crouch to watch what he was doing because it was all done by feel.  Eventually the pins fell into place and the cylinder turned.  He gave the tension bar a final twist, the latch retracted, and the door swung open.

He slipped inside and immediately started up the steps.  He hurried to the roof door and found it wasn’t alarmed.  He eased it open and peeked out.  No movement, no sign of anyone up here.  Had Zalesky slipped back down while Jack had been fiddling with the lock?  If –

He spotted a length of rope running from the chimney to the edge of the roof.  He padded over and peeked.  The knotted end of the rope dangled next to a third-floor window.  This cheater of old ladies had more guts than Jack would have thought.

Keeping to a crouch, he moved to the chimney and found the duffel – empty.  Must have held the rope.  He inspected the knots fastening it to the chimney.  He couldn’t identify them but they looked sturdy. 

Okay…how to play this? 

He could pull the rope up and make Zalesky improvise, but all he’d have to do was leave by the apartment door and walk downstairs. 

Jack had a three-inch folding knife in his back pocket.  He could wait till Zalesky was climbing back up and cut it.  But the cut end would leave no doubt he’d been sabotaged.

Hmmm.

 

8

Ghost time again.

Neil was feeling pretty good as he stood in Rosa’s hallway.  He’d had a few beers at the Event but he’d paced himself and had some food too.  Their pepperoni pizza was tops.

Like last night, he’d called the bitch’s floor at the hospital and did his hang-up bit.  So, he knew where Rosa was.  And he knew where her brother was.  Julio wasn’t very big but he was a tough little spic and would probably take a box cutter to Neil’s face if he caught him here.  But Neil had had one of the guys from the Event call Julio’s bar and he’d answered.  His friend had asked how late he’d be open, got his answer, then hung up.

He did a flashlight scan again and found nothing.  No surprise.  Even if she was planning a trap, the Ghost had never visited two nights in a row, so this was going to blow the bitch’s fucking mind. 

When he reached her bed he pulled down her covers, unzipped his fly, and let his bladder go.  He sighed with relief as the stream started.   A lot of it was beer and he’d been holding it for a good hour.  Man, he soaked that thing through and through.  No just changing the pillow this time around.  She was going to have to get a whole new mattress.

He finished, shook a few times, then tucked in and zipped up.

This was just too easy.  He was tempted to do something else, but stifled the urge.  Save it.  He was going to be back again and again.  But he couldn’t resist opening the refrigerator.  He saw the carton of skim milk on the top shelf.  He’d have to do some thinking and come up with something interesting to drop into that.

Something whitish that might mix unnoticed in the milk.

He smiled.  Next time.

He returned to the window, leaned through, and grabbed the rope.  He swung outside, lowered the sash, and started to climb.  He'd gone only two steps when suddenly the rope went slack and he was falling.

“Oh, Christ!”

His left hand shot out and his fingers caught the ledge of the bitch’s window sill.  He had a grip for a second but lost it before he could cross his right hand over.  He saw the rope falling past him as be began to drop again.  He grabbed at the ledge on the second-floor window below but his momentum was too great.

He hit the floor of the alley with a gut-wrenching, bone-crunching thud that sent pain shooting through his shoulder and chest, and down his left thigh.  It took every ounce of will to keep from screaming like a girl.

Cutting through the pain was the razor-sharp realization that someone must have cut the rope.  But then he saw the blue-taped upper end lying on the dirt a couple of feet away.  He’d put that tape there himself.  The knots must have slipped and come undone.  But how?

He looked up at the edge of the roof.

How?

Never mind.  Had to get out of this alley.  Couldn’t get caught here.  With that restraining order and all, he’d be in deep shit.  He tried to rise but a burst of agony forced a yelp of pain past his clenched teeth.

He was going to have to crawl.

 

9

Jack had untied Zalesky’s knots and just begun retying the rope with his own when it went taut and started to vibrate.  Someone was climbing it.  Jack yanked on the free end of his knot and it came undone.  He heard a cry of
“Oh, Christ!”
from below as the rope whipped away and disappeared over the edge.

Oops.

He couldn’t help wincing at the
thud!
that immediately followed.  Not a pretty sound.

He held off a full minute – timed it with his watch – before peeking over the roof edge.  He spent the time listening to the soft moans and groans filtering up from the alley floor.  When he finally looked, he saw Zalesky crawling on his belly, dragging himself with one arm and one leg, toward the sidewalk.  Took him a while to reach it, and when he finally did, he began calling out in a strained voice.

“Help!  Call an ambulance!  Help!”

Had the knots slipped or had someone untied them?  The Ghost would never know for sure.

Jack waited until the EMTs came by and carted him off to the emergency room, then he descended the stairs and left by the front door.

 

10

The Schlage knob on Zalesky’s door took longer to pick than Rosa’s, mainly because Jack found his hands a little unsteady, what with all the people passing on the sidewalk and going in and out of the bakery next door.  He’d worn a Mets cap and had it pulled low over his face; he’d turned up the collar of his pea coat.  Probably all for naught.  No one seemed to notice and the lock quickly yielded. 

Upstairs, Zalesky’s apartment door was double-locked – the doorknob plus a deadbolt – and those took a while, but at least his only worry was one of the neighbors stepping into the hall and spotting him.

Once inside, he turned on the lights.  The city’s ERs were famous for their overcrowding and long waits, worsened by the recession.  No matter where Zalesky was taken, he wouldn’t be home anytime soon.  And if he had a major fracture, not at all tonight.

Jack found the briefcase in the bedroom closet.  It had a three-dial combination lock, immune to picking.  He found a screwdriver in a toolbox and used that to pop the case open. 

“Hello, hello,” he murmured as he lifted the lid and saw the banded stacks of twenties – three of them, each labeled
Chemical Bank
and
$2,000

He chose one and fanned through the crisp new bills –

“Whoa!”

Only the top and bottom notes were twenties.  All the bills in the middle were singles.  What was labeled $2000 contained only $138.  Obviously the switch money.   Take in six grand in exchange for a little over four hundred – not a bad day’s work. 

But Zalesky hadn’t taken the six grand.  He’d kept the doctored stacks.

The old lady still had her money.

What the hell?

What was he missing here?

Maybe a look around would clear up the mystery.  And maybe produce a little more cash.  According to Julio via his sister, Zalesky took down six figures-plus a year.  A guy like that had to have a stash.  He began to search.

The place was furnished for utility, not comfort, which indicated Zalesky didn’t spend much time at home.  Not much beyond underwear and socks in his dresser drawers.  He did have three business suits in his closet along with an array of a half dozen ties and white shirts.  Jack recognized the suit he’d worn today and checked the pockets.  He found a badge and ID that identified him as a member of the New York State Banking Department, fraud investigation unit – whatever that was.  

Okay, where did he hide the cash?

Jack found a stash behind the bathroom molding.  The discovery was a cause for celebration as well as concern – he kept his own stash in the same place.

He pulled out a pair of banded stacks labeled
Chase
and 
$2,000
each.  But these weren’t dummied up – all twenties here.  Another day’s haul?  After those came a stack of hundreds held by a red rubber band.  He fanned through that – easily a hundred bills.  The total came to fifteen, sixteen grand.  Jack stuffed it all in his pockets, then grinned as he fitted the molding back into place. Might be
days
before Zalesky discovered he’d been robbed.  And he couldn’t even report it.

He considered adding insult to injury by emptying the briefcase of its four hundred or so bucks.  Yeah, why not?

He left the apartment on a high.  If mainlining heroin felt anything like this, he could see why it was addictive.  He was totally buzzed.

 

11

“Is he hurt bad?” Julio said.  “He break anything?”

Jack and Julio were locked in The Spot’s tiny kitchen.  Jack hadn’t wanted Lou and Barney to hear this.

“All I know is he’s hurt.  He won’t be sneaking in windows for some time.”

“I wish the
cabron
break his back!” Julio said through his teeth.  “I wish he’s so crippled he can never bother her again!”

The thought gave Jack a queasy feeling.  He didn’t wish paralysis on anyone.  Truly a fate worse than death.  To change the subject, he pulled out the cash he’d taken from Zalesky’s place and put it on the counter.

Julio’s eyes bulged. “
Por Dios!

“Does Rosa get alimony?”

“No.  She didn’t want it from that
mierda
.”

“Well, she’s got it now.”

Julio shook his head.  “She never take it.  She want nothing to do with the
culo
.”

“Well, she doesn’t have to know.  In fact, she
can’t
know.  That was part of our deal.  Just say it’s a gift from you.”

“Rosa won’t take it from me neither.  She too proud.  Sooner or later she hear he been robbed.  And her crazy brother who got no money suddenly giving her thousands?  What she gonna think?  She ain’t stupid.”

Yeah, Julio had a point.  Her ex robbed, Julio suddenly flush, the truth would be too obvious.

“Well, what do I do with it all?”

“Keep it.”

“Naw.”

“You earned it, meng.  It’s yours.”

He looked at the pile of stolen money… he didn’t like to think of himself as a thief, but then again, this money had been stolen from other people.  Which made it twice stolen.

Stealing from a thief… he guessed he could live with that.  The thirty grand from the Mikulskis had been stolen too – stolen from dead sex slavers.  Jack could definitely live with that.

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