Larry had a flat nose and freckles and rusty, clumpy hair above a wide brow, with cow eyes fringed with strangely pretty long lashes. His teeth were oversize, tobacco-stained, and his lips were thick. Larry was an ugly motherfucker.
“Bruno and Eddie are dead,” I said.
The cow eyes bulged further.
“I mean, that was Bruno and Eddie in those masks, right?”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” His voice was breathy and high-pitched and, like the pretty lashes, undermined his tough-guy image.
“They’re dead,” I repeated. “And that makes them a problem. For us, and for you.”
“I... I don’t understand.”
“The snatch went south, got it? If the cops get you, they’ll have you on felony murder, because Bruno and Eddie died committing a felony that you were part of.”
“I didn’t commit a fucking felony! Since when is drugging drinks a felony?”
I ignored the question. “Your employer, Mr. Climer, can’t be having dead bodies littering up his place. It’s unsanitary and it raises questions, should anybody notice. So we have to get rid of the bodies.”
He was trying to back away, but the gun in his throat just followed. “Go ahead! I’m not stopping you!”
“Larry, you’re the only one who’s still alive, so you’re elected to help out. You’re going to drive that van where I tell you, and then we’ll dump it and its passengers. My friend here will follow us, and we’ll ride back and you can go on with your life.”
“You’ll just kill me, too!”
I shrugged. “Maybe not. It’s just that there’s a mess that needs cleaning up, and you can help. You’ll rack up some serious brownie points, doing that.”
There was a little more talk, but I supervised while Boyd and Larry loaded the two dead men — who, with their stocking masks pulled off, indeed turned out to be Bruno and Eddie — into the back of the van. My nine mil nudged Larry in the back as I walked him to the driver’s side. He got in. Boyd covered him while I came around and got in on the rider’s side.
I had told Climer to make himself some coffee and wait for us. If his boys came out of their slumber, he should explain that Bruno, Eddie and Larry had attempted an ill-advised kidnap, and his security chief, me, was taking care of the aftermath. But telling them nothing more. I also let him know that we’d be gone for a while, because we needed to dump the bodies well away from his cabin. He seemed neither shocked nor surprised.
Boyd hustled down the gravel lane to where we’d left my Mustang. I gave him a chance to do that, then told Larry to start the engine. Soon we were moving along on a deserted county road and Boyd had fallen in behind us.
“Where are we going?” Larry asked.
“Just drive. I’ll tell you.”
Truth was, I didn’t know. I was just keeping track of where we were, and noting a landmark every time I had him turn, plus making sure we always ended up heading north, memorizing the names of the various roads (Lock, Walsh, Campbell) on the impromptu route.
Larry stole a look at me. “You... you didn’t have to kill those two.”
“Sure I did. Kidnapping’s a capital offense.”
“It is?”
“Ever since Lindbergh.”
“Who?”
“Just drive.”
He drove.
A few miles later, he said, “You’re not the law.”
“What’s that got to do with shit?”
“If it’s a capital offense, you ain’t the one pulls the switch.”
“That’s a good point, Larry. You’re new at the Climax Club, aren’t you?”
He nodded, the thick-lipped puss more relaxed now. “But I knew Bruno from way back. I played football with him at North Side High, till I dropped out.”
“Sorry for your loss.”
“Huh?”
“Him dying earlier.”
“Oh. Yeah. Well, he was always gettin’ in trouble. I shouldn’ta listened to him. Shouldn’ta got involved in this.”
“No.”
“You think Mr. Climer will fire me?”
“Well, you did try to kidnap him.”
“No, I just drugged the coffee and drinks. I didn’t know what Bruno and that Eddie was gonna do.”
“Maybe not kidnap him.”
“Yeah. Maybe not.”
“Probably just rob the place.”
“Probably. Yeah.”
“Or maybe kill Max. And then they’d have had to kill you as a witness.”
“Oh, no. I don’t think Bruno would go that far.”
I shrugged. “Well, you never know about people.”
“That’s for dang sure.”
“Over here.”
“Just pull ’longside the road?”
“Please.”
He did. Boyd pulled in behind him.
He looked over at me. “Now what?”
I shot him between the cow eyes and pretty lashes. Apparently something had been in his head, because it splashed against the side window. He fell against the wheel, thankfully not honking the horn, and stared at me with a hurt expression.
Couldn’t blame him.
I let Boyd stay at the wheel of the Mustang on the way back. I’d paid fairly close attention to the haphazard path I’d taken, but he felt confident about having it down, so I deferred.
We’d been gone an hour.
The two security guys, whose names were Cliff and Rick, were sitting at the table with new, undrugged coffee cups, but still looking groggy. In his black silk robe, Climer was seated with them, with his own coffee cup, looking close to alert by now. Boyd pulled up a chair. I didn’t. I wanted to loom a little.
“Gentlemen,” I said, “three men were killed tonight in an attempt to kidnap your boss. Right now they are waiting to be found by the roadside in the van they arrived in. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
No one said anything, but the two security guys didn’t seem quite so groggy suddenly.
“I took the initiative,” I continued, “assuming you would agree that Mr. Climer did not need these three dead men in his life. He has enough problems right now with lawsuits and demonstrators and so on that adding the police to that list would be less than helpful. Additionally, it’s just possible that you, in your capacity as Mr. Climer’s security team, would look like imbeciles. Nobody wants that on their permanent record. So. Does anybody have a problem with how I handled things?”
Both men shook their heads.
Boyd said, “Say it.”
“No problem,” they said together, overlapping just a little.
“Good,” I said. “Because a case could be made that I didn’t have to kill those men to prevent this kidnapping. And that would make you accomplices, if what I did were considered a crime. Do you understand?”
Nods.
Boyd said, “Say it.”
“Understood,” they overlapped.
“Excellent.” I turned to Climer. “I’m going to leave these gentlemen with you, to look out for you. How is Miss Crosby?”
“Still out like a light,” Climer said, “last time I checked. When those two were haulin’ me out of the bedroom like a bale of hay, Mavis was snorin’ her fool ass off.”
“Well, there’s no reason to tell her anything,” I said. “She doesn’t need to know she was drugged. She doesn’t need to know you were grabbed. Tonight never happened.” I turned to the security guys. “Right, gentlemen?”
“Never happened,” they said.
“Now, my friend and I have things to deal with back in town. Everyone going to be all right? Anything anybody needs? No? Good.”
Outside, Boyd grabbed my arm. “We really should get rid of them.”
“What, and Climer, too, I suppose?”
“Not Climer. Broker wouldn’t like that. But those other goofs.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Anyway, I don’t go around killing people willy-nilly. You know that.”