Someone screamed. It was Dick, Tommy’s favorite triggerman. He looked pretty out of sorts as he ran around blazing like a human torch. I stepped to the side and let him dash out into the rain to cool off.
Tommy’s voice carried from somewhere in the roiling smoke. “Forget about them, get the leg to safety! That’s the only important thing!”
I stood up and almost got my head clipped by one of the goons. He screamed with that hysterical madman kind of laughter as he fogged the place with his Thompson. The lights on the cartridge flashed and slugs whined like mosquitoes, shattering glass and shredding the ritzy furniture.
If his aim had been even halfway decent, I would’ve bought the farm right there. Instead I caught some hot lead in the arm as I ducked behind the bar. It didn’t feel so good. Getting clipped never does.
His maniacal shooting continued, so I found a nice pint of apricot brandy and took a few swallows as glass rained on my head and shoulders. The booze was a lot better than the goon’s aim.
The instantly pleasurable sound of a scattergun blast echoed. I stood as the goon toppled with a chest full of lead. Poddar calmly stepped across the flames and picked up his flogger. Another wide-eyed goon jumped from behind a fallen table, his bean shooter forgotten in his hand. Poddar let him have it with another booming shot, knocking the rube off his feet and out the window.
The extinguisher system seemed to have been damaged by the initial explosion. Flames spread fast around us, roaring hungrily as they licked across the walls and ceiling.
There was no sign of Tommy Tsunami.
I tipped the bottle. “Glad you could make it, Prince. Maybe you’d like to speed up the country pace so we could do something like get the hell outta here, whaddya say?”
Poddar gave me an appraising look. “I can’t believe you didn’t get nailed. I didn’t think you had those kind of reflexes.”
“Yeah, well being shot at gives a man a boost.” I pointed to my bloody sleeve as I clumsily grabbed my flogger and adjusted the Bogart back on my head. The downfall of rain never felt better as we fled the furnace that used to be a nightclub.
As I thumb-scanned Maxine, I used the flogger to pad my arm. Didn’t want to bleed all over the seat. Getting those stains out is too much work.
“Get us outta here, Max.”
Maxine rumbled angrily. Her tires squealed as we shot from the burning building, bat outta hell style.
“He knew about Ms. Kilby.” Poddar’s voice was strained as his hands clenched tightly. I knew it wasn’t funny, but I was so bent that I laughed anyway.
“So there’s more to your job than just guarding her body, Killer?” I ignored his glare as I chortled painfully. “Yeah, he knew about her, and you. His occupation is information. If a mouse squeaks in New Haven, you’d better bet that Tommy’s got his hand on some cheese. Don’t worry though, ol’ sport. Lemme get this bum arm sewed up, and we’ll get to rescuing your dame like knights in shining armor.”
“Where are we going?”
“A little further Downtown. I got an Angel to see.”
Widow’s tears slid down the windshield as I took a look back. Behind us, the sky reddened from the Gaiden burning. I’d just made an enemy of one of the most notorious gangsters in New Haven, but right then I was too out of sorts to care. ‘The leg’, he’d said. What kind of leg was so important that he passed up on nailing me to secure it? I was putting a puzzle together with no lights on while not even sure if I had all the pieces.
And I hated puzzles.
Chapter 4: Touched By an Angel
The rain still hadn't slacked, but Maxine had seen worse. As the wheels gripped the wet pavement, I watched the cityscape blur by. Residents ran in and out the rain, on their way to ritzy nightclubs, local bars or other nocturnal rendezvous. Sirens flashed overhead as the hosers sailed in the direction of the Gaiden. At that moment Tommy Tsunami was probably sending droppers to stalk the streets like bloodhounds, looking to catch wind of my scent. Poddar glared like he was about to do something incredibly stupid.
I bled.
I'd been plugged before, but that never makes it any less painful the next time around. My arm throbbed, dulled only slightly by the Wild Turkey from my ever-handy flask. I poured a little on the wound, and whimpered like a baby from the resulting fire. The only silver lining was that it was the left arm. I'd already cut the hand, so it made sense to catch a slug too.
“Dispatching medical supplies.”
The compartment slid open and I accepted the offered compression wrap. With the constricted space I settled for replacing the flogger with the wrap to slow the bleeding. Getting the stains out of my flogger was gonna be a pain, I could tell. Good think the material was dark.
We had gotten away from the restaurants and clip joints. Gated apartments and houses with security fences surrounded us.
"Pull in right here, Maxine.” I indicated the parking deck of one of the nicer apartment buildings.
My Angel worked swing shifts at a hospital in the Flats when I met her. Since I have a real bad habit of getting lead poisoning, we got to know each other pretty well. I was able to get her a receptionist gig at the office of a high-pillow lawyer that I did some work for. Now she could make some real dough and get out of wheeling stiffs around. I've taken her out a few times, but she doesn't let me get too close on account of the kind of fellow I am.
You know, the kind that sets clubs on fire and catches a few slugs now and then.
I hoped to catch her at home, otherwise I was gonna have to doctor on myself, and I've never had too much luck with that.
After taking the elevator, I knocked on the door.
"Who is it?" The thick security door muffled her voice.
"It's me, Angel. Open up, will ya?"
"I don't know anyone named ‘me’. And if I did, I would think he'd remember promising to take me to the picture show on Friday."
Well, wasn’t that a kick in the head. I’d forgotten all about that little promise. Come to think of it, I didn't even know what day it was then.
"Aw, sweetheart, I'm sorry. I got a little caught up on some business, that's all. I promise I'll make it up to you."
"Mm hm. I bet this business just happened to have long blond hair and oversized boobs, didn't it? Sharon told me she saw you at the Flamingo with that floozy!"
Busted again by the female information superhighway. I think if the top brass made all their spies dames, their information gathering would triple.
"Look baby, that was just a gig. I have to take clients out sometimes; it's a part of the business. You know I wouldn't do that to you. Now could you please open the door? I'm bleeding out here, and I feel like I'm gonna pass out."
I knew the combination of charm and vulnerability worked when I heard the digital locks release. The door slid open, and my Angel peered out suspiciously.
She stood about as high as my shoulder, a sweet lil redhead wearing those darb glasses with the classy frames. The eyes behind them were even sweeter. They were violet-shaded; the kind of gems a man could drown in and count himself lucky.
“Who's this?”
I'd forgotten all about Poddar.
"I'm a friend, miss." He spoke in that quiet tone of voice that drives dames wild. "I just wanted to get Mr. Trubble somewhere safe.” He looked at me. “If you’re all right, I’ll rent a skimmer from the garage and check out Ms. Kilby’s apartment. I might find some clues.”
I held back from telling him than an amateur like him would more than likely bungle any clues he’d find. Still, I didn’t see any harm in it. At least he’d be out of my hair for a minute.