I darted to the old house Karadimos used an office and flattened myself against the wall next to the front door.
Holding the pipe like a baseball bat, I waited. I figured when Karadimos heard the tractor start up he’d assume Gus was messing with the machine. After all, I should be dead by now.
I didn’t have to wait long. He immediately sent Angelo to find out why Gus would be driving the tractor around in the middle of the night. When Angelo came through the door, I was ready. He stuck his head and shouted, “Gus! Hey, asshole, what the hell is going on?”
He ventured a little farther into the yard, closing the door behind him. I took my best swing with the pipe, and he toppled to the dirt. He fell in a heap, not making a sound.
I quickly grabbed the.45 from his waistband and darted back to my place near the door, where I took a few deep breaths. Sweat ran down my face and mingled with the caked blood. The.45 felt heavy in my hand as I held it up. I couldn’t wait any longer; I had to get the drop on Karadimos. He’d likely be at his desk, going over the files. I kicked the door open and jumped in, gun leveled.
No Karadimos. My eyes swept the room. Nothing. Behind me, the dozer continued to rumble. Where the hell was he? Taking a crap?
I backed up and turned, holding the gun out in front of me. Karadimos stepped out from the corner of the building. He held his revolver straight out, aimed at my chest.
I flinched. “What the hell-”
His finger was wrapped around the trigger, the gun cocked. “Say goodnight, O’Brien. It’s time to turn out the lights-”
We both heard it at the same time: the loud crunching shriek of metal chewing metal.
“Shit! My goddamn car! The fucking dozer is running over my Mercedes-” As Karadimos flicked his eyes toward the metallic carnage, I shot him in the head.
I dropped the.45 as the distant sound of sirens wailing in the night came closer.
C H A P T E R 51
Light streamed in from the hospital room window. It was Friday, almost thirty hours after Sol and the cops found me staggering around Karadimos’s dead body. When he noticed my bloody face and dead eyes, Sol had one of the deputies rush me to the emergency room at St. Frances in Lynwood.
Dr. Kaufmann, a plastic surgeon, did what he could to heal my facial wounds and improve my appearance. He told me I should feel better soon and could be released in a day or so. Other than a few small scars, I’d look the same as before the trauma. I told him I’d slip him an extra fifty bucks to make me look more like Robert Redford.
“No dice,” he said, “not enough to work with.” But for twenty-five, he could make me look like Phyllis Diller. I passed on the deal.
I remained in the recovery room for hours after the surgery, then a couple of gurney jockeys wheeled me into a private room with a view. I couldn’t get out of bed to see the view, but they assured me it was nice. During Dr. Kaufmann’s most recent visit he indicated I was healing fast and could now have visitors. People had been waiting to see me, he said. He’d let them know I was awake.
Soon after the doctor left, Rita slipped quietly into the room. When she noticed my eyes were open and saw me smiling, she rushed to my side and took my hand.
“Oh, Jimmy, we’ve all been so worried. Sol has been here the whole time. He just went to get some coffee. He said you were almost killed. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you.”
“You could take over the firm.”
“Don’t say that!” She tapped me playfully on the arm. “Sol told me some of it, but not how he knew you’d been kidnapped, or what happened at the yard.”
I gave her a sanitized version of the story, omitting the fact that they threw me into the garbage pit. But I did tell her about the shootout in Las Vegas, my discovery of Gloria’s briefcase, and my showdown with Karadimos and his thugs. Then I explained how Sol and the police found out I’d been captured and taken to Karadimos’s facility in Cudahy.
“Late Wednesday night Sol drove back from Vegas and stopped at Rocco’s for a quick drink before going home. He recognized a thug named Lenny parking my car in the lot and followed him into the bar.”
“I thought you didn’t let anyone drive your car,” Rita said.
“You’re right, and Sol knows that too. The guy took it after Angelo and Gus kidnapped me. Anyway, Sol grabbed Lenny and threatened to beat him to a pulp if he didn’t tell him what happened to me. It didn’t take long for the guy to spill his guts. Sol called the cops and they made a beeline for the refuse yard. They got there just in time. I’d lost some blood and was ready to pass out. Angelo had come to and was crawling around looking for a gun.”
“Wow!”
“I have to ask you a question.”
“What, Jimmy?”
“I know they found Gloria’s briefcase in the office, but what happened to it?”
“Oh gosh! I didn’t tell you. The Sheriff’s Department turned it over to the D.A.’s office. You were still recovering from surgery and couldn’t be disturbed, so I called Bobbi Allen to remind her to make sure the charges against Rodriguez were dropped. After she goes through the stuff and does a preliminary check, she promised me she’d file a motion to dismiss all charges against him. Also, at the coroner’s inquest she’s going to recommend that the Karadimos shooting be ruled self defense.”
I took a deep breath. It had all been worth it. Rodriguez would go free. Still, I felt something wasn’t right.
“You won the case, Jimmy! Without even going to trial, you won the case.” Rita bent down and kissed me on the cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
Sol appeared, carrying two cups of takeout coffee. He handed one to Rita. “Where’s mine?” I asked.
“Aw, Jimmy my boy; you’ve been lying around here being pampered long enough. You’ll have to get your own.”
I made a move to get out of bed. “Oh, damn,” I said and fell back down. “Not today, Sol.”
“I’ll get you a cup,” Rita said. Before I could stop her, she dashed out the room.
Sol pulled a tape cassette out of his pocket. “Found this before the cops did on Karadimos’s desk.”
“Jesus, is that the missing tape I recorded at Chasen’s?”
“Yes it is, buddy boy, and when you get out of here, we’re going to build a little fire.”
“Maybe roast some marshmallows.”
“I’m thinking hotdogs.”
I became serious. “Sol, you saved my life…”
“Yeah, we do that for each other. Don’t we?”
I just smiled.
“Hey, the story’s all over the news. Someone leaked it to the media.” Sol flashed a mischievous grin. “The cops are rounding up the rest of Karadimos’s bunch as we speak, and they’ve just arrested French. Welch seems to have skipped.”
“Probably heading for the Galapagos Islands,” I said.
“Here’s something you might want to know. I called the hospital in Vegas. It was touch and go, but Big Jake will survive. Be back kicking the shit out of people in no time.”
We heard a soft knock. Sol and I turned toward the door. Bobbi peered inside. “May I come in?”
“Sure,” Sol boomed, “why not?”
Bobbi stepped cautiously into the room, carrying a gift basket of flowers with a red balloon attached. “Hi, Jimmy. I brought you these.” She held out the flowers.
“Thank you,” I said. Sol placed the basket on a table against the wall.
She sat in the chair across from me, folded her hands in her lap, and glanced around the room. Just then, Rita returned with my coffee. She said hello to Bobbi and asked about the Rodriguez motion of dismissal.
“I filed it an hour ago. He’ll be released today.”
“That’s wonderful,” Rita said.
No one said anything for long seconds, until Sol broke the silence. “C’mon, little girl,” he said to Rita. “I’m going to buy you the best damn lunch you’ve ever had.” He slipped his arm around her waist and started moving her toward the door.