Part 14 (1/2)

”I guess they do. Don't know many names, though.”

Joey just looked at him.

Squirley seemed to shrink a little inside his skin. His husky, alcoholic voice cracked when he said, ”I thought you was bringin' some money.” Joey handed him a twenty. Squirley turned it over in his fingers, examining both sides like he wasn't used to dealing in such small denominations. ”Not much.”

I said, ”That's just for starters. To see if you know anything worth paying for.”

Squirley raised his eyebrows, dropped open his mouth, and held his palms in the air with the twenty protruding from trembling fingertips. He tried to look hurt, to look put-upon. The snitch said, ”You called me. So you know...”

Joey said, ”Give us the f.u.c.king name.”

Squirley stopped to think. As he did, he popped the knuckles of his right hand, one at a time, s.n.a.t.c.hing them with his thumb. ”Martillo is one.” He p.r.o.nounced it Marr-til-oh. ”And another one I heard is something like Carpet Hero, but I think that one's a nickname.”

Joey sounded disgusted. ”Yeah. I bet that's it.”

Squirley looked at us and blinked puffy, bloodshot eyes.

I said, ”What's Leroy Purcell doing down here?”

He grinned. ”You know a little somethin', don't you? I'll tell you what Leroy's doin'. He's p.i.s.sin' in the wrong pond. That's what he's doin'. And I reckon you know he's the one brought the spics in here.”

I asked, ”Whose pond is this down here?”

”Well, you see, that ain't exactly clear.”

Joey said, ”What's that mean?”

”Could mean lotsa things, couldn't it? I reckon it mostly means I wanna see some more green before I tell you what it means.”

I said, ”A hundred. If we don't already know what you know.”

”I don't do business like that. You hand over the G.o.dd.a.m.n money...”

Joey stepped forward and hit Squirley with an open right, and the putrid little bigot spun and hit the wall behind him face first. He hung there a moment, as if hurt or dazed. Joey's .45 auto appeared, and my giant friend pressed the muzzle behind Squirley's left ear.

I jumped. ”Whoa, Joey...”

Joey kept looking at our drunken snitch. ”Drop the knife.” Squirley hesitated, and Joey c.o.c.ked the hammer on his Colt.

Slowly, the drunk's right hand moved out from the s.p.a.ce between his stomach and the wall. It held a hunting knife with a six-inch blade. Squirley lifted his blade to the side and dropped it in the gravel.

Joey said, ”Put your hands on the wall and spread 'em. That's right. You've done it before.”

Joey patted him down and told him to turn around.

Squirley looked scared. He said, ”Do I still get the hundred?”

Joey shook his head and laughed.

I said, ”Tell us what you know.”

Squirley licked dry, cracked lips, then snorted hard down deep in his throat and spit on the gravel. He was getting ready to talk.

”There's a h.e.l.l of a mess goin' on. On the one side, you got old men been running things down herea”some of 'em since after Korea. On the other side you got a buncha mean-a.s.s kids tryin' to take over. Startin' to get bad, too. These young 'uns, they don't give a s.h.i.+t about nothin'. Kill you for nothin', for fun. Don't give a s.h.i.+t about jail. Nothin'.”

I said, ”Where's Purcell come in?”

”Old Leroy thinks he's gonna come in and take over while there's a war goin' on. But he's f.u.c.kin' up. Shoulda picked a side and cut some kinda deal. But, h.e.l.l no, f.u.c.kin' football hero wants it all. Word is he wants to set up one of them cartels like they got down in Spicland. Old Leroy wants to be king s.h.i.+t of smugglers. Kinda do for guns and military stuff what the spics did with c.o.ke.” He paused to turn his head and spit into the gravel. ”s.h.i.+t. You ask me, Leroy's f.u.c.kin' up big time. Now, he's got the old boys p.i.s.seda”and they been doin' this s.h.i.+t a long timea”and he's got the young 'uns p.i.s.seda”and, like I said, they just don't give a s.h.i.+t. Kill your momma for a dollar.”

I said, ”We need names.”

”You're asking s.h.i.+t that's gonna get me killed if anybody finds out I talked.”

Joey said, ”How about if we give you our word that we'll be as careful with your reputation as you are?”

”You tryin' to be a smart-a.s.s?” Joey shrugged, and Squirley flinched. He turned to me. ”Your boy here don't know how to do business. Now, you look smart.”

I said, ”Uh-huh.”

”All I'm saying is, if you want names, I gotta see that hundred.”

I pulled some folded bills from my hip pocket, peeled one off, and handed it to Squirley.

He smiled. He beamed. It wasn't pretty.

Our inebriated informer pushed the bill deep inside his pocket, and a dark shape hit him flush in the mouth. Squirley McCall fell back onto the wall and slid to the ground. I spun around.

Joey already had his .45 trained on a group of three men. The one in the middle was casually tossing half a brick into the air and catching it.

Joey said, ”Put it down.”

The man caught the brick, turned his hand upside down, and let it drop. The same man looked up and said, ”Time for you two to get on out of here.”

Joey said, ”I was just gonna say the same thing to you. Seeing how I'm the one with the gun and all.”

The brick thrower smiled and walked away followed by the other two.

Joey said, ”Let's go.”

I grabbed Squirley's elbow and said, ”Get the other arm.”

”Why?”

”Because they're going to kill him if we leave him here.”

Joey said, ”They're gonna kill him anyhow for talking to us,” but he grabbed the other arm and helped me get Squirley to my car.