‘You lookin’ for somethin’?’ he asked.
He was taller, thinner and about ten years younger than Louie the Dispatcher, and while Louie’s hair was thinning, the guy had a mop of unruly black hair. But I could see by his features and heavy stubble that he was Louie’s brother.
‘I’m lookin’ for Freddy.’
‘I’m Freddy,’ he said. ‘You Mr Vegas?’
‘That’s me.’
‘Come on through,’ he said. ‘Got a garage in the back.’
I looked around, didn’t see anyone else, so I decided to follow him. We walked the rest of the aisle and came to a garage that looked like it had been made from corrugated metal. There were two large white doors that could swing out to open.
As we approached, the garage doors did open and one man appeared at each one.
Freddy kept walking, so I followed him into the garage. In the center was a vehicle completely covered by a tarp. Off to each side were similarly covered vehicles. The two men on the doors pulled them closed, and someone turned on overhead lights that bathed us in yellow. I made it four men.
‘My brother said you need a car with some kick,’ Freddy said.
‘I need a car that’ll get me where I’m goin’,’ I said. ‘It doesn’t have to break any speed records.’
‘This baby will do both,’ he said.
He grabbed the end of the tarp and pulled it off. I was surprised to see a red Chrysler C-300. I remembered when the car was first introduced; Chrysler called it ‘America’s most powerful car.’ It only had two doors, but there was a back seat.
‘Whataya think?’ Freddy asked.
‘It’s a beautiful machine,’ I said. ‘But it’s not what I need.’
‘It’s what every man needs, man,’ Freddy said.
The other three men closed in, standing with me in the middle. They were similar in age and build to each other — thirties to forties, with hard, round bellies pushing against their t-shirts. Freddy was the only one without that bowling ball belly, and he looked almost emaciated. There wasn’t a friendly face among them.
‘Let’s talk price.’
‘What are those?’ I asked, waving at the other covered cars.
‘They ain’t for you,’ he said. ‘Twenty-five hundred, and that’s a deal because my brother sentcha.’
‘I’m lookin’ to rent, Freddy, not buy.’
‘Rent? How do I know where you’re goin’ or if you’ll bring it back?’
‘Well, I thought since your brother sent me-’
‘Fuck that, man,’ Freddy said. ‘I ain’t in business for my health.’
‘I don’t think we can do business, Freddy,’ I said.
‘You got cash on ya?’
I didn’t answer.
‘Yeah, you got cash on ya.’
I stayed quiet, but my pulse was racing. Shoulda went to Hertz, I thought. Shoulda taken Jerry’s gun, or even Ava’s.
‘Freddy-’
‘You’re on the run from somebody, man,’ Freddy said, cutting me off. ‘Maybe the cops, maybe not. You can’t be fussy. But if you don’t want my car we can just take your cash and dump you someplace for somebody to find.’
‘Or not,’ one of the other men said, and suddenly he had a crowbar in his hand. I turned. Another man had a wrench, and a third was holding a pry bar.
When I looked back at Freddy, he was holding a gun, a long barreled revolver.
‘Just in case you’re heeled,’ he said.
‘I’m not.’
‘That’s good,’ he said. ‘That might be the thing that lets you come out of this alive.’
‘Guys,’ I said, ‘there’s no need for this. What would your brother say, Freddy?’
‘My big brother’s an idiot,’ Freddy said. ‘Why do you think he’s a fuckin’ dispatcher?’
And what are you, I thought, but I didn’t say it. Instead, I started looking for a place to run, or something to use as a weapon.
‘Let’s start with the cash, man,’ he said, ‘and then we’ll get to the pain.’
I started to sweat.
FORTY
I’d been in some tight spots before, even been shot at a time or two, but it occurred to me that this time I could really get busted up.
‘Freddy, take it easy. .’ I said.
‘Shut up, man!’ Freddy said. ‘Just take out the cash!’
‘I’d take his advice if I was you,’ Jerry said from behind Freddy.
I had no idea where he had come from, but was more than relieved to see the big guy step out.
‘Take it easy.’
Freddy froze, then turned. He saw Big Jerry standing there with that cannon in his hand.
‘Hey, man, what’s the idea?’ he said, as if he was accusing me of something. ‘We were just supposed to do business.’
‘Sounded to me like you were about to hurt our Eddie,’ Ava said, from behind me.
I turned and saw her standing there, overdressed for her surroundings in a jacket and pants that cost more than most of the cars around us. She was standing hipshot, holding her gun out like she was posing for a movie still.
‘What the hell-’ Freddy said.
‘Hey!’ Jerry snapped. ‘That’s no way to talk to a lady.’
He walked up to Freddy, who was still holding his gun, although loosely now. Still, Jerry grabbed his hand and, without removing the weapon, broke his wrist. We all heard the bone snap, and then Freddy screamed and the gun hit the dirt floor.
‘Jesus!’ one of the other men said.
‘Here comes the pain,’ Jerry said.
The other three men exchanged a glance, then dropped their iron and ran for the door. Freddy sat on the ground, cradling his damaged wrist, whimpering.
‘Should I shoot ’em?’ Ava yelled.
‘Let ’em go!’ Jerry called back.
‘I don’t know how you two got in here,’ I said, ‘but I’m glad you did.’
‘Hey, Mr G.,’ Jerry said, ‘you had ’em right where you wanted ’ em.’
‘The hell I did,’ I said. ‘I was about to get my ass handed to me. I can’t thank you two enough.’
‘So the next time I offer you my gun. .?’ Jerry said.
‘I’ll take it!’
We pulled Freddy over to one side and tied him up, just to keep him out of the way. He cried when Jerry pulled his hands behind him, but Jerry ignored it.
‘What have we got here, Mr G.?’ he asked, then, looking at the Chrysler.
‘Forget it, Jerry,’ I said. ‘That’s too much car for what we want.’
‘Lemme just look under the hood,’ he pleaded.
‘We don’t have time,’ I said. ‘Let’s see what’s under these other tarps.’
It must have been Chrysler day at Freddy’s Car Lot. We pulled the tarps off two more. One of them had been painted dark green, the other was covered with primer, ready to be painted.
The green one was a 1960 model and if the key was in it, we’d found our car — if it had an engine.
‘Look under the hood of this one, Jerry,’ I said.
‘These cars have all been boosted, Mr G.,’ he said, raising the hood.
‘I’m sure this one’s had more done to it than a fresh paint job,’ I said.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘The VIN number’s been changed. Nice job, too.’
I looked inside and saw the keys in the ignition.
‘How’s the engine?’ I asked.
‘Ain’t been souped,’ he said, ‘but it’s had some work.’ He stood up straight and looked at me. ‘It’ll get us where we’re goin’.’
‘This is our ride, then.’
Jerry looked over at Freddy.
‘Should we give him some money?’ Jerry asked.
‘Are you serious?’ Ava asked. ‘He was going to kill Eddie.’
I remembered Ava saying my name in front of Freddy. That wasn’t good, but I didn’t mention it.
‘Here,’ I said, peeling a hundred dollar bill from the sheath of cash Ava had given me, ‘give him this for the emergency room.’
Jerry took the bill, walked over to Freddy and shoved it into his mouth. Freddy looked up at Jerry, too afraid to spit it out.
‘Let’s go!’ I said.
Ava helped me open the garage doors while Jerry got behind the wheel. He drove it through the doors and we got in. He continued through the lot to the entrance, where we moved our bags from the cab to the Chrysler.