“I’m a big boy, Patrik. Don’t worry about this. It’ll get done, just tell me the deal.”
He pours another couple of fingers for me and puts out his cigarette. “Okay, so then. Do you know Smith Park?
“Sure, yeah. West Side. Where they always hold the Ukrainian Festival in August. Over on Grand Avenue, couple blocks south of Chicago Av.”
“Yes. That is the place. Lots of trees, hedges and walking paths. When Viktor Skansi moved back here, we didn’t know where he was at first, but have found out he’s staying at his oldest daughter’s house on Northwestern.”
“I think I know that house, too. The one Bogdan lived in for awhile, before I shot his ass, that is.”
“Yes.”
“A few blocks away from the park.”
“Yes. Almost every evening since he got back, he goes for a walk with his wife in that park. We have watched them for two weeks. Six o’clock sharp. This time of year the sun has gone down but there is still light.”
“So that’s the where and the when, right?”
“Yes, we have decided to do this.”
“First, there is no we. I’m doing it. Which means, there is no try to it. Done deal. Count it.”
“I appreciate your confidence and tenacity, Jerz, but keep listening to what I tell you.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll shut the fuck up for a second.”
“The old man is never alone. Never. This evening walk, only fifteen minutes or so, is lightly guarded, though. I think he wants it that way. It’s an escape outside for him and he feels safe in the Ukrainian neighborhood, of course. It is our best bet for this.”
His eyes bore into me even more now.
“One man walks with them about twenty feet in front and one man walks in back about the same distance. Another man is stationed in the middle of the park at the fountain, where the walking paths meet and circle around it. Like spokes on a wheel. Small park, but many trees and shrubs.”
He lights another cigarette and keeps going. I keep quiet.
“They walk slow. They are old. The wife, she is in a wheelchair. Has been for five or six years now and she cannot stand up at all as far as we know. You will have two men at your disposal. Utilize and position them however you wish. Skansi enters from the east side of park, circles the fountain and then heads back to the car at same place he came in.” He stares at me for a second, then asks, “So, Jerz, any questions yet?”
“I don’t want help, Patrik. I work best alone and they’ll fuck it up for sure. No two men.”
He bangs his fist on the table right out of the blue. Surprises me, but I try not to show it.
“NO! Not this time, my friend. You will have my two best. Very loyal, very professional and they will do exactly what you tell them. This will not be negotiated between you and I. They might very well save your ass. Make no mistake, if necessary, they will die to make sure you accomplish this.”
He unclenches his fist and reaches for the glass in front of him. He takes the last sip and I notice his hand is shaking. I stare at him for a moment longer. “Okay, Patrik. We’ll play it your way. I don’t like it, but okay.”
“Good.” His voice is calmer now, but no less intense. “Now, these two men will meet you at the Marriott Courtyard at West Division and Kedzie. It’s ten minutes from the park. Noon, in the lobby. In their room, you can discuss in more detail how this will go down. They will have a gun that you will use and then discard. They have a map of the park and surrounding streets and alleys, like this one.”
He pulls open a drawer and slides out a folded map, then hands it to me. “They will do exactly what you say, Jerz. Good men. One of them, Andros, he let you in here today. The other, Dobry, almost as good and just as loyal.”
He stands now and walks around to me, then leans against his desk and crosses his arms.
“I’m as tired of talking as you are tired of listening, eh? The plan itself, how you do it, how you kill him, that is your design. I wish you luck, my przyjaciel.”
I stand up and we do the hug.
“Patrik, easy. It’ll be a walk in the park.”
This time there is a little smile from him.
“That was a really bad joke, Jerz. Even I think that one was bad.”
“Yeah, well, I couldn’t help it. Hey, just a couple of quick last questions though.”
“Sure.”
“Nobody is off limits here, right? The old lady, you don’t have a problem, right?”
“There should be no witnesses. No one is off limits. Period.” He’s staring a hole through me as he says it.
“Okay, got it. What about the poor bastard who is going to go down for this in my place? Is he here and will you just give him up to the Russians or what?”
“He is here in Chicago and people know he’s with us, but not exactly what for, of course. He is waiting for what he thinks will take place early next week. After the hit tomorrow evening, the hotel where he is staying will be leaked. He’s dead already. He just doesn’t know it yet.”
“Hopefully he’s not waiting it out at the Marriott Courtyard.”
Patrik liked that one better and I got a laugh out of him. “Ha! Just like you to think of that. No, he is not at that location.”
I decide not to ask about the guy in the hallway, though. It probably was the fall guy but better to just tuck that one away for now.
“All right, well, last thing, I guess. Since you won’t be paying the guy from the west coast, you can pay me. Where and when will that little transaction take place?”
Another soft chuckle from Patrik.
“Ah yes, I almost forgot. My men will have the two hundred thousand dollars for you in the hotel room tomorrow at noon. All in one hundred dollar bills. You can stay in that room for a week afterward if you want to. It will be prepaid and my men will no longer be there.
“Patrik, I think that’s all I need. I’m good to go.”
“One more small drink, Jerz. We will toast our long friendship, partnership, eliminating our enemies and money.”
He gurgles some more Makers into our glasses.
“Oh! And to women, huh? I will let your Ania off earlier than ten tonight but have fun early — you need your rest.”
I laugh and he laughs.
I look at him and drink and he does the same.
This is what I don’t like with the woman thing. I don’t like being predictable and dependant. Having people know everything about what I’m doing.
We laugh one more time.
And once again, I’m thinking that Patrik is one of those guys you just don’t want to be playing with. Playing for or against. But I guess for is better.
SIXTEEN
Mick
Morning light streamed in through the east window and splashed across Connie’s sleeping face. Her hair was snarled up like a dirty bird nest on the pillow and across her eyes. She let out little wheezy snores through her mouth, which hung open like she was surprised at something. She lay on her stomach. The blanket only covered her from the waist down, so I could see the ugly bruises on her kidney. A shadow of another bruise was barely visible on her mashed breast.
I sat in a chair near the bed, looking at her. I tried to conjure up whatever those feelings had been just a few short days ago, before Steve came back. Before the old man died. Before Jerzy and these fucking diamonds came along.
Only I didn’t feel that way about the diamonds. They were what I was hungry for, in a way I used to hunger for Connie.
I stared down at her tousled hair and parted lips and felt…nothing.
Almost nothing.
It hadn’t been that way last night. Once I got back to the apartment, she’d blubbered out the tale of Steve getting drunk and gambling away most of his pay. That’d given him a reason to get even more drunk. When she asked him about it, he threw her a beating.
Smart, though. Even for a drunk loser. He hit her where it would hurt, but not show. At least, not in public. And the kind of women Steve chose were the kind who wouldn’t be telling anyone in public about an ass-kicking. Maybe not anyone at all. They were the kind who would wait with bated breath for him to come around with flowers and a sheepish apology. Make them feel special.