Chicago Noir [Anthology]

I always been an all-purpose guy, game for pretty much whatever you got, long’s it bring me what I want or what I need. I’m mostly known as a robber, stickups and like I help jack an armored truck once, and hold up a whole bunch of stores and shit. But I also commit arson for some guy over insurance money, deliver heavy weight of drugs plenty times. Etc. and so on. Never knock over no bank yet—I always seen myself doing that, but it don’t seem likely now.

I done murders too. Three, to be exact. Usually I do murders for five heavy, my rate. I done one for half price once, as a favor to somebody. But five is my rate for murder, less there’s extra risk or something else hairy about it. Then it take more.

Back starting out, I never think I be doing hits. But my twenties they behind me and I’m trying to branch out. Since this here new hit job’s a cop, one of them “something else hairy” murders, this one takes five up front and another five behind.

Yeah, Katrina’s paying me ten large for this one and I’m happy about that. Plus, doing a cop puts me on a whole new level far as future work goes. Not every hitter will take on a cop job, and for good reason—the reaction is stone fierce, man. Still, set up for this one nice, seems sane enough to me, so it’s perfect, suits my needs.

Specially now, I need the boost. See, a week ago I got out of Joliet after four and a half on a five-to-ten for an armed robbery that went bad. Nobody inside got in my shit though cuz word spread that I’m connected, so I did my time clean and walked early.

I get connected cuz after the heist my car gets slammed by a mail truck and it break up my leg pretty good, so I get nabbed. I go deaf and dumb right away, take the whole weight of it on myself, cop myself a plea for a reduced sentence and no trial, no further investigation. Kind of guy I am. So on my taking the bust, my partner on the heist, gangsta man named Blue who’s driving the other car, he stay free and clear.

Blue one capable guy. His operation gets even bigger since I go in. Blue naturally is grateful to me, which you can understand, sends word in to his boys that I should do easy time. The brothers make sure the time I do is easy as pie. Or as easy as any time can get in prison, which sucks any way you look at it. But it could be a lot worse, is what I’m saying, cuz I’m one stand-up guy about the whole thing.

Second I hit free air outside the Joliet walls, Blue has a car there to ride me back to town. Driver tells me Blue wants me at his new bar next night, Blue’s setting me up for a sweet little payday. That’s what this cop hit is all about, far as I’m concerned. Little reward.

Yeah, okay, I know it ain’t too swift to go on parole for armed robbery and right away do some cop murder. But this ten grand gets me set up again, like a human being, not some brain-dead rodent ex-con sweeping supermarket floors. I’m sending Blue a Christmas card this year, though he never send me one inside. Kind of guy I am.

Some shit happens during the week, and seven days later, here we go, we on the job, me and this uncle named Hector in coveralls, shovels in hand. Katrina is watching us dig. Soil in this yard is good and black, smelling like rotten leaves and earthworms. Gonna turn a body to compost in, like, two seconds.

Look, she cocking her head now, listening for out-of-the-ordinary sounds that might float their way back here through the evening air. Katrina’s sharp. Hector, the guy digging with me, he got no idea how sharp she is. He gonna find out, though.

This a good spot, the edge of Blue’s turf in the 8th Ward. We digging behind some apartment houses on Drexel north of 99th Street. People in this nabe know not to get too nosy, even if they do see something. They better off look the other way, and that’s what they do. I just can’t picture nobody calling cops about the suspicious earth turned near the tree in the backyard.

I’m making like I ain’t looking at Katrina, cuz I’m s’posed to be cool. But I do see she almost topples back when them stiletto heels sink down in the wet sod. Lord, her thigh muscles flex really nice when she bends her knees and shifts her weight to the balls of her feet, sliding them heels free.

I should look away, though, before Hector notices me checking out her legs. But shit, why not look? Not only do Katrina got bitchin’ legs, but that fine piece a ass knows it too. Yeah, I take myself a decent look. Long as we keep digging, what she gonna say? This ain’t church.

Damn, it’s getting cold, though. October breeze down out of Canada, gusting off the lake. Every so often the hem on Katrina’s thin little mini goes up and I can see every bit of them Tina Turner thighs. Yeah, and look, she know she distracting us, which I can tell by how she folds her arms across her chest, hiding them nips like we ain’t already been checking them out too. It’s her way of trying to get this here business done, not cuz she some prude. Katrina definitely not no prude.

Every so often a shovel clangs against a stone and we all freeze and look around the backyard. I can understand their feelings. Digging somebody’s grave some serious business. But if I’m thinking at all, it ain’t about a shovel hitting a rock. I’m thinking mostly about this ghost watching us.

Katrina tells me before we come here ghost all taken care of, nothing to worry about, so we do this thing tonight and nobody gonna step in early. Now, though, Katrina’s playing the whole thing straight, making like she don’t know about no ghost, I guess to keep Hector’s head in the right place. I’m playing along, freezing when she do, giving nobody reason to squint their eyes at me later. I can just picture Katrina later, telling everybody in the bar how I’m one hell of an actor, which I’m gonna love. She look down now and see me smiling at that, which I can see she don’t understand.

Katrina breaks up the freeze with a nod toward the hole we standing in waist deep. Me and Hector start digging again, making the pile to one side. Way she look at Hector, I can tell she expect my boy to say something stupid, and my boy don’t disappoint.

“Ain’t this goddamn hole deep enough yet?” he whispers loud.

“Dig it my way, Hector, head-deep,” she spits back, eyes flashing all serious. “No more static, now, you dig.”

Hector give a pause looking at her like he don’t like her tone. On cue, she repeats herself, even more serious, “Just dig.”

I smack him on the arm and he get digging again. Hector can’t tell, but I see Katrina worried about his attitude. She wants this thing to go smooth and if He’'s all belligerent and shit, could be trouble. Guess she don’t know I’m here to take care of any and all business tonight, no matter what. S’okay. This my first job with her. If seeing’s believing, she find out good what she got in me, and soon enough.

Can’t help thinking while I dig, though, my mind moving around. Thinking about the night after I get out of Joliet, hanging around Blue’s bar when Katrina comes in. Place is on Dobson Avenue right near to 95th Street. Busy spot, but not too busy. Neighborhood place, mostly people Blue know coming in.

“Don’t make that much money, but it’s just like I like it,” Blue say to me, cranking the music. Always great music playing in Blue’s place, just like his crib.

They call the man Blue cuz his skin so black they say it looks blue, which all I see is dark brown, but then I don’t care about that shit. Always funny to me how the brothers and sisters always got their skin tone in mind, like it matter somehow, while a white boy like me don’t give it no real thought. I never understand that.

Katrina goes back in the office with Blue that first night and right quick they send word out I should come back. Blue introduces us and right off she flirtatious. I look at Blue and he laughs with Katrina coming off all mad hot for me, which is all the okay I need. This, you know, like, especially being inside Joliet for that amount of time, kinda gets my attention.