"Nap," I said, gritting my teeth.
"Zelmont," his voice boomed in the pipe. The rats got excited and started scooting all over the place.
His arms were like steel around me and I had to get my hands under his jaw and push him away. His body shook and he let out air like a bad tire. Then his grip went limp and I rolled clear.
"Zelmont."
I looked over where Nap was lying still. "Zelmont," the voice said again. It wasn't Nap. It was Wilma.
"In here." I could barely talk.
"We're coming."
Pretty soon a light came through the grate of the water pipe. I could hear Wilma's feet crunching on the earth as she came closer to the entrance.
"Zelmont. We've been driving around for a while. The cops removed the trucks, and in the dark we couldn't tell exactly where the drain pipe was."
"Where's Burroughs?" I finally said.
"He came with Danny. I thought it would be better to bring two cars just in case Nap had to be stretched out. Danny drove Burroughs' station wagon."
"That's good," I said.
I half-crawled over to the entrance. Together we removed the grate. "I guess that old bag of bones ain't gonna come down the mountain."
She was shining her light past me, like she thought me and Nap had buried the bundles somewhere. "Is he okay?"
"He's dead."
"Shit." She was thinking what I was, that Danny was gonna go straight off.
"What happened?" She came into the pipe.
"He went nuts, kept talkin' about how he had to get right with Jesus. He told me he killed Davida."
She put the light on me, studying my face. "I assumed"
"You and everybody else, Wilma. Me and Nap struggled some. He'd grabbed me, damn near busting my back. I don't know if me fighting with him caused him to die sooner. But we need Burroughs to come down here and say Nap died of his bullet wounds.''
She looked at me, then nodded her head. "I'll go up and tell them he's barely hanging on."
"If you can, on the QT tell Burroughs there's more money in it for him to do as we say."
"He was Nap's friend."
"Nap can't pay him, we can." At that moment I couldn't afford to feel anything about my friend.
It took some doing, but with Danny's help they got Burroughs down the hill. The old scarecrow was at the entrance of the pipe, the moon lighting him from behind. He looked like death himself come to call.
"You better hurry, he don't look good." I stood back as Danny rushed in.
"Nap, I got the doc here, Nap, is you awake?" Danny was all over him, slobbering and crying. Wilma had her flashlight on us.
He looked up at me like a little lost kid. I had on the face I wore when I didn't want a defender to know anything I might be up to.
The ancient pill roller got on his knees and bent over Nap, going over his body with his stethoscope. Burroughs' long, hinged fingers were like insect legs dancing over the big man's form. Under his breath I could hear him talking to himself. Danny stood to one side, a flashlight in his left hand. He kept his right free for the gat I knew he had hidden under his sweat top.
"One of the high-velocity shells shattered his clavicle, and another drove part of his ribs into his stomach, puncturing the lining. He bled into his stomach over time, eventually choking to death on his own blood and bile." Burroughs' voice was the same as it always was, flat with no emotion. What would Danny think?
The youngster put the light dead on Burroughs, then on me. I didn't look away, I didn't want to seem guilty.
Wilma stood between me and Danny. "We have to move the body because if the cops find him they will know we did the robbery. Dr. Burroughs can make sure he's cremated properly."
"We ain't gonna bury him?" Danny said softly.
"Danny, we gotta think clearly now. We have to get rid of the body."
I helped Burroughs get up. He looked at me sideways behind his glasses but didn't let on anything. If Danny went buck wild, he'd talk to save his skin. But otherwise he could be depended on to go along with the flow 'cause there was the promise of bigger ducats in it for him.
Danny was massaging his face with one of his hands, pacing back and forth at the entrance of the big pipe. I guess his shock was wearing off, 'cause he was pointing and shaking his finger at us. "See, see what happened when I went along with you motherfuckahs? My brother is dead… dead, goddammit." He pulled out the piece but I didn't make a move, even though I felt I could have. This was one time when talk, not head ringing, was called for.
"What are you gonna do, Danny? Dust all of us and run off with the money by yourself?"
He stopped moving around, bringing the piece up on me. "What if I do, Zelmont? Nap ain't around to protect your ass now, is he? You the one that let him down, wasn't you? How I know you didn't fuck up and he died 'fore he was supposed to?"
If Burroughs was staring at me, I didn't let on. "Nap died from his gunshot wounds, Danny. I know you've been around enough to know how that can go, how at any minute the bullets sitting there in the wounds can cause all kinds of shit to happen. You must have had a homeboy go out like that before."
Danny wasn't about to let logic get in the way of his mad-on. But in some part of his eight-ballin' head he had to be wondering how a small-timer like him would move all that cash. He needed Wilma, at least. Now she had to buy my life.
"Whatever you decide, Danny," Wilma started, "you're going to need Zelmont to help you move the body back up to Dr. Burroughs' car. I assume you know you can't let one of your boys in on this."
"You let this dope fiend skeleton in on it." He jerked the pistol at Burroughs.
"He's used to this, Danny," Wilma said. "What happened to Napoleon was unfortunate, but it has happened. It's nobody's fault. And if you decide you don't need any of us, then get the killing over now, stop screwing around."
I wasn't sure that reverse psychology bullshit was the right angle with a hothead like Danny, but there was nothing I could do. She either convinced him or weat least me and the doc would be sucking on his gun in a few ticks.
Danny didn't speak. He stood there, staring at his brother. Then, slowly, he cranked his head to look at the stacks of bills. He moved more into the pipe, giving me the stare-down. "Let's get him out of here," he finally said.
It took a lot of effort from the four of us to get Nap up the hill. Even Burroughs pitched in, more out of fear of Danny than greed for what he was gonna charge us afterwards.
With a lot of stops and starts we got Danny up to the station wagon. Burroughs had brought along some kind of liquid he used for cleaning his tools. I used that stuff to swab out the pipe as best I could so there wasn't much trace of his blood or our fingerprints. You never knew, the cops might come back and find the hiding spot. No point in giving them a head start on finding out who died in there.
We got the bundles up and headed back to the Seven Souls Clinic in North Hollywood, me and Danny in Wilma's car, the doc and her in the station wagon with Nap's body. I was sweating all the way there, what with all those cops and sheriffs running around. But damn if that old pharmaceutical junkie Burroughs didn't bring us luck. We made it back to his clinic without being stopped.
Burroughs had me get a gurney and we wheeled Nap in through a side entrance, a sheet draped over him. We left him in a room with nothing in it except a white metal trash can and a scale. He locked it up and we went into his office. The bundles were in there too.
Wilma cut a bundle open with a pair of snips he had on a shelf. She counted out seventy grand in fifties and hundreds. "This do it?" She handed the money over to him. He sat behind his desk, rocking back and forth in his chair.
"Well," he said, picking up the cash. "There has to be some compensation for all my exertion." He licked his lips like a lizard flicking his tongue for a fly.