Heart of the Old Country by Tim McLoughlin

Author:Tim McLoughlin [McLoughlin, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Gritty Crime, Fiction
ISBN: 9781888451153
Publisher: Akashic Books
Published: 2001-01-01T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter

15

We both stopped and looked at each other. I couldn’t begin to guess how he’d found out I was there. There certainly hadn’t been enough time for Georgie to have spilled his guts. Looking at Lou then, I thought about the night with Shades. I knew Lou had only been doing what he thought he had to, but what was he thinking about tonight? Was I still an employee, or had I become another problem to be handled?

“Got Edward in the car?”

“Huh?”

“Nothing. What are you doing here, Lou?”

“I could ask you the same thing. You’re a little late, Mikey.”

“Yeah, well, shit happens. You left a few details out of the fucking job description.”

“I heard. Get in the car.”

“Not sure I should.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means I don’t know who to trust anymore. Who are my friends? I’m a little edgy right now. Two days ago I couldn’t believe you were handing me cash for a bullshit job like this. Now it kind of makes sense. Either the run is dangerous enough to warrant the pay, or I got set up for a fall. So tell me, Lou; who are my friends?”

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid,” Lou said. “How do you think I found you? Your father called Tony an’ tole him where you were. Think about that. You’re becoming goddamn paranoid.”

I pulled the front door closed while I thought about it. It made sense, actually. Nobody knew I was there except Georgie, my father, and the super.

“Why’d my old man call Tony?” I asked, as Lou took my arm and helped me down the steps.

“Well, that’s one a’ the things we gotta talk about,” he said, holding the car door open for me. I seemed to have gotten used to new cars; I didn’t know if that was good or bad.

“What’s up with my father? I know something’s doing.”

“He’s in jail,” Lou said. He started the Caddy.

“Jail?”

“Jail. You know. Cops, arrest, jail. Jail.”

“Lou, tell me. Say words. What happened?”

“You had a car. The one I gave you the keys to this morning. The way that works is, there’s some guys around. Guys that—you know— get behind a little. Not much; a nickel here, a dime there. But it all adds up. And when the shys can’t collect, they come to us to, like, negotiate. So we work out deals, if the money ain’t too much. Every now an’ then we borrow a car, for some kinda run. If the run goes okay the car gets put back, an’ it’s no harm done. But if something gets fucked, then the guy calls the car in stolen an’ everybody’s off the hook.”

“Except the driver,” I said.

“What?”

“Except the driver. You’re going to tell me somebody reported the gray Cutlass stolen, right?”

“We hadda go that way Mike, by four o’clock.”

“Jesus Christ.” I was practically screaming. “My old man climbs behind the wheel of a car for the first time in about four years and he gets locked up. What are you going to do? Can I see him? Is that where we’re going?”

“No.

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