He placed the paper bag on the floor of the patio. Then he dragged a chair to poolside and straddled it, arms on the backrest, the cigarillo clamped between his teeth-in plain view from everywhere.
Someone turned on the underwater lights in the pool.
He chuckled and flipped the cigarillo into the illuminated water.
Copa came out a moment later. A large bandage completely covered the crown of his head. He'd lost some hair there, yeah. The face was pained, sour.
"I took a hit," he explained.
The guy was just standing there, about ten paces out, almost on top of the sack.
Bolan said, "I heard. I'd say you took a lucky one. Hurt much?"
"That's what the doc said. And, yes, it hurts like hell."
"All wounds heal quick in paradise, Nick."
"Don't talk to me about paradise," Copa growled. "Right now I got twenty evil demons kicking inside my head."
Bolan gave a philosophical shrug. No sympathy. "You'll get over it. And it'll make a nice chapter for your autobiography." The guy scowled and asked,
"Is that supposed to be some kind of dig?"
"No. I meant it. You should write that book some day. Change the names, of course."
"Of course."
The Lord of Nashville lit a cigar.
"Lenny tells me you brought something with you. What's in the sack?"
Mack Bolan had always been a man who could command himself. But what was in that sack had taken the strongest command he could muster. "Special gift," he said coldly. "A token of my esteem."
Copa bent cautiously over the paper bag and delicately opened it. He stared at the contents for a long moment then straightened up with a, twisted smile.
"I like your style, Omega," he said quietly.
Sure. Bolan had known that he would. And if a guy wanted in the game then he had to be prepared to participate in the rituals. All of the rituals.
Still…He reminded his host, "You snapped your fingers."
"Damn right I did," Copa gloated.
He gave the sack a vicious kick.
Crazy Gordy's bloodied head fell out of it on the first bounce and rolled into the pool. A new decorative touch to paradise.
Bolan lit another cigarillo.
Copa paced around for a moment, glaring at the thing in the pool, then he pulled up a chair close to the bearer of gifts and sat down.
"How many times you been here today?" he asked coldly.
Bolan replied evenly, "This is the third trip"
The guy chewed his cigar for a moment. "Uh huh. It figures. Never mind how you did it. Just tell me why you did it."
Bolan smiled soberly. "Call it an inspired act."
"What inspired it?"
"She did. Said she wanted to help. I believed her."
Copa snarled, "I want her back here! You hear me? I want her back!"
"The honeymoon is over, Nick. The lady doesn't want to come back."
"I want to hear her say it!"
Bolan shook his head. "Too late. We made a deal."
"What d'ya mean, we made a deal! Our deal was-"
"Not you and me, Nick. Me and her. She wanted out. So I took her out."
"That's the most outrageous damned-" The guy turned very pale. "Wait a minute! You didn't!."
Bolan moved the idea away. "Hey, she's okay. I just did you both a favor. She'd become a liability to you. Much longer and she'd have become a dead liability. You get my meaning."
Copa got the meaning. "You did me a big favor, eh?"
"It's your only loss. Out of it all, Nick, your only loss. Count the possibilities. You could have lost it all."
A moment later, "How?"
Bolan spread his hands. "Why am I here?"
"You're here because I let you in."
"Wrong."
"Wrong?"
Bolan pulled a playing card from his breast pocket and snapped it toward the lord of Nashville. It sailed through the air and dropped at Copa's feet. And it did not matter which side came up; the ace of spades adorned both sides.
Copa placed a foot on the card and asked, "Is that for me?"
"It could have been."
"Why?"
"It didn't look good, Nick. They were wondering."
"About me?"
"Trade places. Wouldn't you wonder?"
The guy showed him a pasty smile as he replied, "I guess so. But they know better, now."
"They Will, yeah. Soon as I get the report back."
"Well don't waste too much time doing that."
Bolan smiled coldly. "Just so we understand it, Nick. The report does have to get back."
Copa laughed over a private joke. Then he sobered abruptly to ask, "What's all this have to do with my wife?"
"Nothing," Bolan told him.
"Nothing?"
"Except from me to you."
"I don't get it."
Bolan got to his feet, nudged the paper sack into the pool with his foot, and returned to his chair. "It's clean now. Leave well enough alone. The lady helped me. I helped her back. Call it quits at that. Leave her go, Nick. That's from me to you."
Lord Copa pulled his chair closer. He was mad as hell. But he was trying to cool it. Presently he said, "Okay. I guess I can live with that. You better hope you can, too. I guess you know what you're doing. For me, it's a small enough loss."
"That's the way I saw it."
"Yeh."
"Did I hear you say thanks?"
"You heard it. So. Now, what about the Leonetti punk?"
Bolan said, "Just the way we figured it. Gordy was going for the whole pie. He snatched the kid and took him to a cabin out near the reservoir."
"I never heard of it."
"Gordy was the kind to keep secret places. Even from his boss. Especially from his boss."
Copa growled, "Crazy Gordy was a fink."
"More than that. He was a thief who stole from his own father and brothers."
Copa said, "He was a rotten shit." He spat at the pool.
"It was a one shot deal. He never planned to work with Leonetti. He just wanted to rob him. That means robbing you. And your friends. He put the kid on ice while he checked him out. Meanwhile he was working the kid for all he could get."
"How much was that?"
Bolan smiled soberly. "Not a damn thing."
"That's nice. That's damn nice."
"The kid checks out clean.
He's got the stuff. It was to be Mazzarelli and Clemenza, not Mazzarelli and. Leonetti. But the kid blundered in and spoiled their game. He didn't like the smell of the deal. That's why he came. He was trying to get to you when Gordy snatched him away."
Copa smiled craftily and said, "You knew he was clean all along. When you first came in here, you knew it. That's why you were cat and mousing me and Gordy. You wanted to see which one would take the break."
Bolan smiled at the Lord. "You're a big man, Nick. I'm glad it worked out this way."
The Lord was smiling back at the Executioner. "Me too," he said grandly. "You're not so small, yourself. Well. Well this is just wonderful. It calls for a celebration. We'll have some-"
Bolan held up a hand and said, "No offense, but I can't stay."
He stood up. "Leonetti's at the Holiday Inn. A bit worse for a week of wear with Crazy Gordy but I think he'd probably enjoy a celebration, himself, right now. He's waiting for your call. The kid held out for a whole week, Nick. Now you and I both know what kind of guts that takes."
Lord Nick knew, sure. His eyes were shining as he said, "I've been looking for a kid with real guts for a long time, Omega. A man has to think of the future. Right?"
Omega replied, "Oh right, right."
"What's the kid's first name?"
"His name is Carlo. They call him Carl."
"Carl and me will get along just fine."
The Black Ace was sure of that.
Yes. He was very sure of that. For as long as Nick Copa's future might last.
Which, after all, was saying not a hell of a lot.
EPILOG
Bolan checked in the rented car and stepped outside to the darkness of the service apron to await his pilot. He walked straight into Toby Ranger.