Merrick (10 page)

‘THEY’VE GOT US, HE THOUGHT, WE’RE DEAD, OH SHIT.

ALMOST AT ONCE, HE THOUGHT, MAYBE NOT.’

JACK KETCHUM

‘OFF SEASON.’

I got back to my apartment, very conscious of the time factor. My time out, Merrick’s

fookin sulk time, all in all, I figured, we were nearly four days behind the edge we’d

nearly had.

I was playing The Saw Doctors, from Tuam, just outside Galway, and cross me

bedraggled heart, the favorite band of no less than…………….Jodie Foster.

And me.

Train…………their latest single was dynamite.

Rock, longing and loss, what better metaphor for the Irish psyche.

Paranoia, a lingering echo of the stress that nearly wiped me, was biting at my heels. I

had the Sig Sauer on the table, beside the six pack of Guinness. Knock on the door.

I moved up close, asked

‘Who is it?’

A pause.

Then

‘Ryan, it’s Merrick.’

I opened, and there he was, in his resplendent contrition, said

‘I screwed up big time Ryan, yet again, I’m sorry.’

I waved him in, said

‘Jesus wept, you going to spend your life apologizing, let it go, ok?’

He saw the gun on the table, asked

‘You were expecting me?’

I pulled a Guinness from the pack, said

‘Enough, alright, we have a psycho to catch and I think we’re already seriously out of

time.

He sat, took a hit of The Guinness, said

‘Fuck Ryan, it’s warm.’

Caught the look from me and added

‘Which is exactly how I …..am………….like it.’

And we had a moment then it passed.

He reached in his seriously battered leather jacket, took out a small package, said

‘You gave me your Mother’s Yeats so, this is I hope, as significant, you catch the drift.’

I opened it.

The American Flag came out.

He explained

‘Betsy Ross was a daughter of The American Revolution and sewed the first flag. The

stars in a circle represent the thirteen American colonies. The stars now represent each

state and the stripes each original colony. My wife, Judy, is related, on her father’s side to

Betsy Ross. Judy, on her Mom’s side, is part, I swear on the flag, part Chippewa Indian.

You can’t get more American than that.’

Shona might argue that toss.

I said

‘I can’t……..take this.’

‘Judy sent it, and I as Rabbi, confirm you as an American of the soul.’

How could you stay mad at the guy?

I said

‘Thank you…………………absolutely.’

I managed to pin it on the wall, then stood back, said

‘Cross me heart Merrick, I’m delighted to any part of America.’

Meant it, Ireland, in her wild wisdom had rendered outcast so, The USA was sheltering

me, giving me work, treating me like I mattered.

Who you going to plead allegiance to?

‘MONEY CAN MAKE AN ENEMY OF ANYONE’, DOROTHY SAID.

‘EVEN SOMEONE YOU’VE KNOWN ALL YOUR LIFE.’

‘SOULTOWN’

MERCEDES LAMBERT.

Merrick’s mobile shrilled. He answered, listened, his face a mixture of incredulity,

confusion, anger. He asked

‘You sure?’

Then listened, said

‘Thanks for the heads up Loot.’

He clicked off, looked at me with, was it apprehension.

I went

‘What?’

‘The case has been closed….solved ,what the fuck ever.’

‘You’re kidding, how?’

‘That was Lieut. Jordan, they went to Tribeca, this morning, found Bob Temple dead,

suicide apparently, with a Heckler and Koch, the gun used on me, he left a note, saying

he was no longer able to live with his actions, they’re waiting on ballistics but the Loot is

pretty sure it will match the slug they dug out of me………….so, case closed. Oh yeah,

they found……….trophies, you know.’

‘Trophies?’

He near shouted

‘’You fucking know, do I have to goddamn spell it out for you, from the children.’

I was afraid that’s what it meant, said

‘It’s a set up.’

‘What?

‘Jesus Merrick, wake up, the flowers to Shona, came from Mr.’s Trent, who works for the

accountant.’

I poured a Guinness, focused

Merrick went to say something, I snapped

‘Shut the fook up, I’m nearly there.’

Ran it all over in my mind, the thought niggling on the edges of my sub consciousness

came crashing clear, I thought, fook, this perp is smart, real smart but…………’

Then something else struck me, why now, why did the guy feel the need to tie up loose

ends, unless he was spooked, unless he’d heard something, fook, fook, fook.’

I asked

‘Did you talk to anyone, say the case was near to closure, anyone at all?’

His face showed the guilt, he looked away, I ventured

‘Let me guess, I’m pretty sure I know, the same guy said to me in the

hospital…………….
come to dinner, bring your Indian girlfriend.’

I was cruising, flying, ideas, racing through my mind, I said

‘Remember way back, I said, there were two and one might be a cop? Serg. Boxer said to

me he felt there were two and ……one could be a cop………..or………ex-cop,

somebody you’d feel comfortable talking to?’

His body literally sagged in on itself, he sat down, realization crushing him, put his head

in his hands, said

‘Oh VI, Charlie ,Jesus wept and I never told him about the credit card or the flowers, or

Mr.’s. Trent. Oh my Lord, Ryan, I’m so sorry.’

I desperately wanted to , as he once explained to me……………..
ream him a new one.

But that could come later, right now, we had to snare the slimy clever bastard. I said

‘Get a grip, we can trap him but it means you have to go and meet him, act like you’re

confused, tell him about Mr’s Trent and how you and I are going to see her the next day,

try to figure it out. He’ll have to act, and fast. Clear up the whole mess and we follow

him, take him in the act of trying for Mr.’s Trent.’

I added his own word

‘Capiche?’

He shook his head, said

‘Sit with him have a brew and act like everything is hunky dory, he’ll smell a rat.’

I grabbed him by both his shoulders, said

‘You screwed it up, now you put it right, act…………you cam fookin act, right?’

He nodded miserably.

I let out my breath, said

‘Ok, I’m going to Queens, be in place. When he leaves, give him five minutes, then

follow him. He’ll go to Queens but we don’t want him killing anyone else.’

A thought occurred to him, he said

‘This means….the accountant is the other killer, the serial wanna-be, what about him?’

I asked

‘Ever hear of two birds with one stone?’

His last effort

‘Shouldn’t we hand it all over to NYPD?’

‘Right, and by the time they get their arse in gear, if they buy it, don’t forget, they’ve a

closed case, Charlie will have killed the freak and Mr.’s Trent and high the fookin-tailed

it outa Dodge.’

He smiled.

My patience was ragged to put it mildly and I went

‘What, I say something funny?’

He waved it away, said

‘Just ………..you sounded like an American just then.’

I grabbed the Sig from the table, said

‘Tool up yer own self, right?’

He said

‘After I got shot, I got my Dad’s Pump shotgun from the attic.’

I said

‘The Getaway.’

‘What?

‘Steve mc Queen in Sam Peckinpah’s movie, put the Pump into iconic territory.’

He stood, said

‘Jesus, you and the freaking movies.’

Then he had a thought, asked

‘Did Steve Mc Queen survive, in the movie I mean?’

‘Rent it, find out for yourself.’

‘MEETING WITH …….TREACHOROUS MEN.’

Merrick was nervous. Had bought a bottle of Black Bush mill’s as cover. Ryan had told

him it was the cream de la crème of Irish whiskeys. Of course Ryan hadn’t described it

thus, he’d said

‘It’s the bollocks!’

That shit cost.

A lot.

He got to Charlie’s and yup, there was the man, working the place, glad-handing and

schmoozing like he’d won the lottery. That helped Merrick to get into character.

Charlie saw him smile broadened, approached, asked

‘Bro, to what do we owe the pleasure so soon?’

Merrick’s paranoia but was there just a slight edge on the ……
so soon?

He thought

‘Never no fucking mind, I’ll put that edge into orbit ….
bro.’

He handed over the Black and Charlie whistled, went

‘Wow, are we celebrating?’

Merrick let a slightly confused look appear, said

‘We should be, I need your cop instinct’s a minute.’

Charlie was all eagerness to help.

But first

……………….sit

Chill

…………………………….break the seal on the Bush mills.

Did.

Got behind a shot or two of that amber gold then Charlie asked

‘What’s breaking buddy?’

Merrick told him the case had been solved , and Charlie, raising his glass in anticipatory

toast, asked

‘But that’s good, right?’

Merrick explained in detail about the roses, the credit card, Mr.’s Trent, took a moment,

said

‘Ryan I are going to take a trip to Queen’s tomorrow, check it out.’

Charlie put his glass, untouched on the table, asked

‘Is that wise, I mean, why not hand the whole crap shoot to the cops?’

Merrick smiled, said

‘My sentiments exactly but Ryan, you know, he’s got his idea the accountant might be

the real killer.’

Charlie said

‘Yeah, I can see where’s he coming from, so , tomorrow then.’

Merrick said

‘I’d have gone today but the kid, he’s tied up so we go tomorrow.’

Charlie raised his glass now, said

‘Good luck with that buddy.’

And ten minutes later, said

‘Oh crap, I got to go bro, a damn delivery held up in The Bronx, you believe that shit?’

They said warm goodbye’s and Charlie said

‘And thanks for the bottle, sure appreciate that.’

Merrick sat for a while, contemplating another drink. But he couldn’t. Then something

struck him. Way back, when Charlie had been setting up his joint, he’d been searching

for a good chef. Figuring a dinner menu was the real goal mine, drinks sure but the food

was the real goldmine.

He’d asked Merrick who knew a guy from his Synagogue. The fuck was his name?

Jacob……………..Jacob……yes, Hoffer. They’d used to kid him about Jimmy Hoffa,

saying the feds should check his Ravioli for Hoffa. Jacob had said to Merrick

‘ A kosher joke, ok but Hoffa, I mean, do I look like a Wop?’

No.

Charlie had left the Bush Mills on the table. Some hurry. Irish guy to leave that. He

grabbed the bottle, headed for the kitchen. No one stopped him, a guy who the boss

regularly drank with?

Get outa here.

The kitchen was closing down, rush hour done .Save for a dish washing guy

and………..bingo…….Jacob. It’s an unfortunate cliché that chef’s are drunks. Jacob just

liked to drink while he was working and so he worked a lot.

Not so much Kitchen Confidential as Kitchen homicidal.

Merrick went

‘Shalom.’

Jacob turned, his chefs hat, askew, which could be good news as it meant he was half in

the bag, not so good if he was past that stage. Jacob had a temper. He shouted

‘Merrick, you very bad Jew.’

Promising.

That from anyone else, Merrick would have handed them their teeth.

Merrick plopped the bottle on the counter, said

‘ For you Rabbi.’

Jacob, immediately noticed the bottle had a few belts out if it, asked

‘You bring me seconds,

Looked to the heavens, continued

‘This guy!’

And hugged Merrick.

Merrick tried not to look at his watch, he didn’t want to leave Ryan hanging with two bad

guys. Poured a lethal wallop and handed it to Jacob who exclaimed

‘You trying to get me drunk?’

Merrick held up the palms of his hands, went

‘As if.’

Jacob raised his glass, said

‘L,chaim.’

Knocked it back.

Merrick thought

‘Fuck, he’ll fall on his ass.’

Nope.

Got loquacious.

Started

‘This job, I tell you Steve, The Mick is so far behind in his arrears, he’s going to have to

do a runner.’

The guy washing the dishes had stopped, his ears primed and Jacob picked up a skillet,

threw it at him, shouted

‘Get the fuck out of my kitchen you snooping raghead.’

Merrick prompted

‘You’re kidding?’

‘On the star of David, he is leaking money but it’s like he don’t give a fuck, you know

what I’m saying, they’re going to shut it down around his Mich head and he could care?’

Merrick had what he wanted, said

‘Got to go the rest room.’

Jacob was on the turn, the aggressive drunk emerging, shouted

‘Go go, everybody so damn busy.’

Thought he had to call Ryan but the dumb fuck, he’d no mobile.

Jesus.

He was running.

IT IS BETTER TO BE A LIVE JACKAL THAN A DEAD LION-FOR JACKALS,

NOT MEN.

SIDNEY HOOK.

I was stuck on the Queensbury Bridge.

Jesus wept. Gridlock. Time eating away.

By now, Charlie might already be on his way to the accountant and Mr.’s Trent. By the time I finally got there, I was shit out of luck and time. Could feel it in my bones. Very bad feeling.

I parked down a bit from the Accountant’s Office. Got out, The Sig in the pocket of my old combat jacket, yeah, from the old days, figuring, I never got killed it. Ok, you do what you can and pull in every superstition you got. I’d have prayed but that was an aspiration too far.

God and I parted ways when Molly got her head blown off.

No sign of Merrick’s car.

When in doubt, go in the back.

I did, hearing nothing, not a sound.

I moved through the building, gun out, ready. To the office, the door closed. Bit down, flet one bead of perspiration drip down my forehead, it was so quiet, I swore I could hear it plink on the floor. Opened the door real easy to….

The accountant, sitting having a drink, Charlie, a gun at Mr.’s Trent’s head. She was tied and bound to a chair, her eyes terrorized in her head. Charlie said

‘Ryan, the fuck kept you?’

‘Gridlock.’

He nodded

‘Ah, the bridge, it’s a bitch this time of evening.’

…………………..but here we are. Jesus, my manners, must be the high drama of this day, let me introduce Bob, you met before but now, see the real Bob.’

Bob looked way over any edge he’d ever clung to, a cleaver in his hand.

He stood up.

I said

‘The Simpson’s.’

He stopped

I explained

‘Freakshow Bob, voiced by Kelsey Grammer.’

Charlie said

‘Drop the piece Ryan or you know the tired drill, the lady get’s it, yada yada.’

I dropped it.

Bob advanced.

Charlie said

‘See, you still get to solve the case, sort of. Bob there, he carves you into pieces, Merrick arrives, shoots him and alas, Bob get’s a shot off, killing our hero Merrick. Sloppy, but you know, I’m making this shit up as I go along. Now, what movie is that from, guess it and you get…………am, let’s see, four minutes extra.’

‘I said

‘Easy, Indiana Jones but Bob, yo psycho, you getting mail?’

Bob was as close to drooling as you get, hesitated

And I asked

‘You stupid bollix, what part of your smart arse buddy’s plan didn’t you get?’

Charlie hissed

‘Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to mess with your head.’

I laughed, dragged it up from my gut, said

‘Bob, he said, you get fucked, you heard him.’

Bob was literally disintegrating, I jeered

‘Do the math.’

He swirled and a blast took his head off.

Merrick stepped into the room, the pump leveled at Charlie, who laughed, then

‘Ah, party pooper. Just when we were having fun. What now wise guy?’

Merrick glanced at me, I nodded ok and he said

‘I don’t suppose you’ll let her go?’

Charlie seemed totally unfazed, said

‘I could try to shoot you but then the other would take me out. So………………….I’m

going to take Mr.’s Trent with me, drive off and if you don’t follow, I’ll release her in a

half hour.’

There seemed little choice. We moved out in a group, and finally Charlie said

‘This is my ride, now if you gents would just step inside, I can go on my way and this

lovely lady can go free.’

I was raising the Sig along my left side, Merrick whispered

‘No.’

Charlie said

‘Listen to your buddy Ryan, you might get a shot off but if you miss and I’m a moving

target.’

I lowered the gun.

And he was gone.

After five minutes Merrick said

‘Fuck this, let’s go.’

We raced to his car and within ten minutes, we found her body by the side of the road.

Shot in the face.

And Charlie,

He’d disappeared, it seemed off the face of the earth.

We figured another car, or whatever.

He was in the wind.