Chutes and Adders by Barbara Block

Author:Barbara Block [Block, Barbara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Zebra Books
Published: 2015-02-03T00:00:00+00:00

My North Side friends tell me Rocco’s hasn’t changed in thirty years, and from the way it looks I believe them. I pushed my way through the crowd of people standing in the take-out line and ordered a Coke and two slices with sausage, olives, and pepperoni. A few minutes later, my food came sliding across the counter. I paid and carried everything to the only free booth in the place.

There had never been a time, day or night, when I’d been in Rocco’s that it wasn’t busy. Word had it that Rocco was part of the Gambino family. Other words had it that there was no Rocco. That the real owner of the place was a guy called Archie Rosenblatt who had correctly figured nobody would buy pizza from a man with a name like that. For all I cared, Rocco’s could have been owned by a purple lesbian dwarf with a fondness for pigs. Just as long as the pizza stayed the same, I’d keep coming back.

The first bite burned the roof of my mouth. I sprinkled on some oregano and red pepper flakes and took a second bite. Even better. While I ate, I thought about what George had said.

Of course, a .38 wasn’t an uncommon gun.

But this one was Murphy’s. It had to be. The chain of events was too tight. I find the .38. Manuel steals it. Then he turns up unconscious and the gun turns up missing. Next day Sam is shot in the back with a—guess what?—.38 and someone tries to frame me for the murder.

Coincidence?

Not too bloody likely.

I took a sip of soda and began on my second slice. I was almost through when a skinny teenage girl with matte white skin, too much black eyeliner, and ratted bleached blond hair and her black leather-jacketed boyfriend asked me if they could share the booth. I took a last bite of pizza and told them they could have it. It was time I was going anyway. It had been a little over an hour since I’d left the store. Donna should be home by now.

Outside, I cleared another inch of snow off the windows of my car and got in. North Salina, Court, and Park Streets were shut up for the night. A plastic Blessed Virgin Mary standing in a front yard on Vine Street watched me pass by. No one else was out. I parked in the driveway of Donna’s house. The path to the front door hadn’t been shoveled in the last day and my boots sank into the snow as I walked. I rang the bell and waited.

I could hear somebody yelling inside, another voice answering, then shuffling as somebody came down the hall. The door opened a couple of inches.

“Yes?” The woman standing in front of me must be Donna’s aunt.

“I’d like to speak to Donna,” I said as I edged my way in.

The aunt started gesticulating. “She no home yet.”

“Maria, who is it?” A man yelled from out back.

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