“Hey, dumbass.” James brought the crowbar down hard, aiming for the shin. There was a dull crunch as the iron bar hit bone and Leopold fought hard to hold back a scream. The pain was immediate and overwhelming, as though a firecracker had gone off in his skull.
“You’re gonna answer Bobby’s goddamn question or I’m gonna hack your freakin’ leg off.” James kicked Leopold’s ruined leg with his right boot to prove his point.
The agony peaked. Tears streaming down his face, Leopold bit his lip and tried to clear his mind – an ancient meditation technique that supposedly made a person immune to pain.
It didn’t work.
“You got any more wisecracks, asshole?” James said, brandishing the crowbar. “Or we gonna start on the other leg?”
“Wait, wait,” Leopold said, barely able to get the words out. He looked over at Jerome again. The bodyguard nodded.
“Last chance,” Bobby said.
Leopold tilted his head up. “Go screw yourselves.”
James smiled and lifted the crowbar. As he brought the weapon down, a grunt of pain from the back of the room caught him by surprise. He froze. “What the f –”
In one fluid movement, Jerome tipped himself backward, flipping over the back of his chair. He landed silently and drew up to his full height, his right arm hanging at a strange angle. He held the heavy chair out in front of him. Before James or Bobby could react, Jerome charged across the basement floor and swung the chair around, narrowly missing Leopold’s head. The wooden frame smashed into James’ shoulder, sending him tumbling across the room and into the back wall. His head smacked against the bricks.Bobby took a step backward, his palms raised. “Listen, buddy, don’t do anything stupid. I got money.” He backed up against the bricks. “I’m just a middleman, this was all her idea, I don’t…”
He never finished his sentence. Jerome brought the chair around once again and smashed Bobby over the head, splintering the wood. Bobby hit the floor hard. He didn’t get up.
“Jesus, are you okay? What the hell did you do to your arm?” said Mary, straining against her zip ties.
“Is he okay?” said Leopold. “I’m the one with a shattered leg.” He winced as the pain in his shins reached an all-time high.
“I dislocated my shoulder. It’s a little trick I learned when I was younger,” said Jerome, pulling apart the remnants of the wooden chair. “I tried to teach Leopold, but he wasn’t exactly a model student.”
“Let me guess – Brazil, right?”
“Right.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?” asked Mary.
“Hurts like hell. I just choose not to be a baby about it.” He looked down at Leopold. “Speaking of which, I assume you’re not going to be able to walk?”
“Good guess.”
“Let me out of here. We’ll carry him,” said Mary.
Jerome nodded and walked over to the edge of the room. He took a deep breath and slammed his dislocated shoulder into the wall. He let out a quiet grunt as it popped back into the socket.
“I’m ready.” He flexed his right arm a few times. “We’ll lock up on our way out. I assume you’ll call this in?”
“With pleasure,” said Mary.
“Then let’s get out of here. We’ve got one more loose end to tie up.”
Leopold hopped up the basement stairs on one leg, supported by Mary and Jerome. They reached the hallway and found it deserted.
“You going to call for backup anytime soon?” said Leopold, trying to ignore the searing pain in his shin. “It’s about time the NYPD started pulling their weight.”
“You know, for a genius, you really aren’t that smart,” said Mary. “They took our cell phones, remember? And before you think of anything else clever to say, just bear in mind I’m holding you up here.”
“Try the land line.”
“Hey, if you can find the damn thing, be my guest. But, in case you’d forgotten, we’ve got a homicidal she-demon to track down. Who knows what someone with her money has access to? She could be halfway to Canada by now.”
Leopold opened his mouth to reply, but a loud noise cut him off. Outside on the street, the unmistakable sound of a large engine revving to the redline and the squeal of spinning tires.
“She sounds like she’s at least got access to a car,” said Jerome. “And unless you happen to know her license plate, we’re gonna need to get moving.” He lunged toward the front door, dragging Leopold and Mary behind him.
“Ow, Jesus!” Leopold buckled under his ruined leg.
“Stop being such a girl,” said Mary, trying to keep up.
Jerome charged through the doorway and on to the sidewalk, the others barely slowing him down. They reached the Mercedes and clambered inside. Jerome gunned the engine and slammed his right foot to the floor, wrenching the steering wheel to the side. The car executed a perfect donut, throwing up a plume of white smoke. Now facing the right direction, the bodyguard followed the tire tracks left by Melissa’s car and took off in pursuit. After less than thirty seconds, he slammed on the brakes.
The traffic on Fifth Avenue was jammed, as usual. A sea of yellow cabs blocked most of the lanes and pedestrians weaved in and out of the stationary traffic. On the far side of the road, horse-drawn carriages filed in and out of Central Park.
“What now?” said Mary. “This car got a phone?”
“Just a Bluetooth connection,” said Jerome. “Needs a handset to work.”
“Well, then we’re just shit out of luck. All this fancy equipment and we can’t even call for help.”
“We’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way,” said Leopold. He could feel the pain in his leg start to throb. He couldn’t feel his feet.
“Great. Just great.”
“Use your eyes. Look for anything out of place.”
Mary looked out the window. “All I see is cabs. And those damn horses.”
“Look harder.”
“I’m looking, I’m looking. Wait…” she pointed. “There.”
Leopold leaned over and glanced out the window. Across the street, a sleek Aston Martin convertible was parked on the curb. It looked empty.
“She’s in the park,” he said. “She’s on foot. We need to move.” He sucked in a deep breath and reached over Mary, opening the car door. “Come on, you’re going to have to help me over the street.”
“You’re insane. How the hell are you going to catch up with her in your condition?”
“Just help me out the goddamn car.”
“Jesus, fine.” She slung his right arm over her shoulder and climbed out. Jerome turned off the engine and joined them, holding up the other side.
“Faster. That way.” Leopold pointed toward the gates.
“Just shut up and hobble.”
They crossed the road in a hurry, ignoring the angry honks and profanities from the frustrated drivers trapped in their cars. They reached the sidewalk and Leopold kept hopping, driving all three of them toward an empty horse and carriage. The driver looked up as they approached.
“We need a ride,” said Leopold, slipping off his watch. “Here, take this. It’s a Rolex.”
The man stared back at him, wide-eyed.
“It’s worth ten grand. Take it.” He thrust the watch into the driver’s hand. “Just drive.”
The man nodded profusely and clambered into the buggy. Leopold, Mary, and Jerome followed, settling in to the uncomfortable seats in the back.
“Just head into the park,” said Leopold, shouting over the noise of the traffic. “We’ll tell you when to turn off. Go!”
The driver jostled the reins and they set off at walking pace.
“Move faster!” Leopold banged on the wood.
“I can’t, it’s the law.”
“Screw the law.” He felt Mary jab him in the ribs with her elbow and he winced. “Sorry. There’s another five grand in it for you.”
“I’m a cop,” Mary said, taking over. “Don’t worry about causing a scene. In fact, it would help us if you attracted as much attention as possible. And I’ll make sure you get your money, don’t worry.”