Part 3 (1/2)
”Come on, boys. You better start talkin'.”
”Look, Officer. We just make the switch, don't know who for,” D-Man began to run his mouth. ”We trade the crack for a couple pounds of blow, plus cash, once or twice a week.”
”With who? Who's your point man?”
”It's someone different every time, man-er, Officer. It's someone here, at the crab house. Look, we'll cut ya in.”
FFFwump!
This time it was not Stein's fist that smacked into D-Man's gut, it was the end of a blackjack. D-Man's cheeks ballooned, and he fell to his knees.
”You're lying,” Stein said. He walked over to where Nutjob lay. ”Don't f.u.c.k with me. Who's your point man, Nutjob?”
Nutjob whimpered. ”I-aw, s.h.i.+t! I don't kn-”
FFFwap!
Stein smacked the blackjack right into Nutjob's crotch. Nutjob bellowed, face creased.
”Ain't got time for this. My coffee break's coming up.” D-Man remained bent over on his knees. His teeth clacked together when he felt the pistol barrel pressed against the top of his shaven head.
”Who's your point man? You've got to three.”
”Aw, Jesus, man-”
”One.”
”Please, look! My people'll pay ya!”
”Two.”
”No, wait!”
”Two and a half!”
”D-Man!” Nutjob shrieked.
”Three-”
”Ros.h.!.+” D-Man and Nutjob yelled in unison. ”It's Captain Ros.h.!.+”
Stein lowered the pistol. Meanwhile, both D-Man's and Nutjob's hearts hammered.
”Hmm. Well, you know? Let me think,” Stein said. ”That's good of you to say, but you know what? I already know that. And you know what I'm going to do in exchange for verifying this?” He nudged D-Man.
”Uh...let us go?”
”Close.” Stein snickered. ”I'm gonna kill ya both anyway.” And then he put the gun back to D-Man's head, and- ”Noooooo! Holy Jesus don't kill me!” D-Man bawled.-pulled the trigger.
CLICK!.
The hammer fell on an empty chamber. D-Man dropped his face to the dock, his bladder emptying.
”Just kidding, guys,” came Stein's next statement, and with it a long, rowdy laugh and footsteps. Lower lip hanging, D-Man looked up and saw Rosh coming down the walkway in his crisp police uniform, captain's bars s.h.i.+ning. He began to clap, still honking laughter. ”I'm impressed, boys! It took you a whole five minutes to give me up.”
D-Man rose as if he'd just gotten off a bad roller coaster. He stared c.o.c.keyed. ”What the h.e.l.l?”
”D-Man, Nutjob, say h.e.l.lo to Charlie Stein. Charlie's my new partner.”
Chuckling, Stein snipped Nutjob's Flex Cuffs with a wire cutter, then helped him up. ”You can take a joke, right, buddy?” Then he squeezed Nutjob's cheek and gave it a pat. ”We were just playin' around.”
Nutjob looked appalled, cradling his crotch. ”Playin' around? Ya blackjacked my nuts!”
Stein slapped him on the back. ”Captain Rosh wanted to see if I can walk the walk, you know? I gotta look the part on the street, breaking bad and all that.”
D-Man's heart was still fluttering like a hummingbird's wings, and Nutjob looked right at him, mouthed something inaudible, then fainted outright.
Rosh huffed a laugh. ”Leave him be; he'll be all right. Poor boy's still shook up.”
”Well, he's f.u.c.kin' got a right to be!” D-Man complained.
”Come on, come on.” Rosh tapped on a back door and out walked several overalled workmen, all grinning. ”Load up that corn, boys,” Rosh said, and gave the coffee cans to Stein. ”Stein, stash these and bring in D-Man's package. We'll be inside.”
”Sure, Captain.”
D-Man was still dizzy when he followed Rosh into the crab house and around to the sunny front bar. ”You scared the living s.h.i.+t out of us, man!”
”Relax. Can't ya take a joke?” The bar was empty. They pulled up two stools. ”Hey, Jimmy! Couple beers, huh?”
”Sure, sure,” said a redneck 'keep polis.h.i.+ng a gla.s.s. He smiled, showing missing teeth.
D-Man tried to finally simmer down. Rosh was pulling something out of his pocket. He had short red hair and a pale complexion, which somehow made him look even less trustworthy. D-Man had been making pickups from him for over five years. ”Demand's on the rise, my friend.”
”My people can handle it. You bring all the pure blow you can, and we'll turn it into rock.”
”Good, good.”
The barkeep put down two beers. ”I love it,” he said. His voice sounded like a kazoo. ”Captain of the police department sitting in my bar rapping with a drug dealer, and drinking in uniform to boot.”
”And not just drinking, Jimmy.” Rosh winked. ”Drinking for free.”
”Just what I need.”
”Hey, Jimmy, how about disappearing for a few, huh? Got some private biz to talk with my pal here.”
”Yeah, yeah,” the man said, and walked away.
Stein entered with a small suitcase and set it down at D-Man's feet. ”It all weighed up just right.”
”Don't it always?” D-Man tried to sound authoritative, but fumbled when his voice cracked from the scare he was still getting over.