Honk Honk, My Darling by James Finn Garner

Author:James Finn Garner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, mystery, comedy, humor, detective, noir, hardboiled, clown, circus, clown noir
Publisher: James Finn Garner

CHAPTER 13

Cutthroat

It was a little before 11. The leather doors of the Hi-Wire Lounge were locked shut. No surprise. The place probably opened closer to noon so all the lovely customers could get their beauty sleep. Since I had some time to kill before anybody showed, I went to the five-and-dime for supplies. Twenty minutes later, I came back and arranged a suitable welcome.

When I was finished, I waited on the stoop of the building across the street from the bar. Before long, the well-dressed figure of Jimmy Plummett came hustling down the street, slick as a cherry pit. He passed a few people on the sidewalk without a nod or a wave hello. When you spend your life kissing up to people flying above you, you don’t spend much time looking down.

“THIS PROPERTY IS CONDEMNED.”

The official-looking notice tacked to his front door made Jimmy do a perfect double-take. Squared off as if challenged to a fight, he preened his hair with the flat of his hand as he read. When he got to the fine print, which was nothing but synonyms for “sucker”, he angrily ripped down the paper. Another was nailed to the door.

“AND FURTHERMORE . . .”

He ripped the second one down and found a third, which read:

“You’re standing on some, too.”

Plummett looked down and saw sheets under his feet, this time with the shiny side up. Lifting one foot with the paper firmly attached, it finally dawned on him that the others were still stuck to his hands. He tried to flick them off, but the more he flapped and fluttered, the stronger they stuck.

I walked over slowly. “Morning, Plummett,” I said. “Anything good in the papers today? Hoooohooo-hoooo-hooo.”

The sound of my voice made him turn with a jerk. “Some gag,” he snarled.

“I figured, what better way to catch a flyer than with flypaper? It may be too literal, but I try not to overthink these things.”

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he tried to peel the sticky sheets from his hands. “Was I too subtle when I tossed you out yesterday?”

“Probably,” I said. “I’ve got a pretty thick skull. Just ask the Redd Brothers. One of them broke his nose on it this morning.”

“What are you yammering about?” he asked distractedly.

“The Redd Brothers. You know them: Big, grunt a lot, less hairy than bears…”

“So what?”

“So, somebody sent those knuckle-draggers after me about an hour ago, when I was supposed to meet Carlozo, and I’m guessing it was you.”

He stopped his flapping and looked at me. After a beat, he said, “You’re all wet . . .”

“And you’re all gooey. Look, I know you and I go way back – nearly 24 hours now – and we shared some intimate moments while you were shaving, but I still get the distinct feeling you don’t like me too much. Maybe you sent the Redds to protect your pal, ‘cuz he shouldn’t be seen with the likes of me.”

“I didn’t send the Redds,” Jimmy said. “I don’t hang out with those kinds of characters, but smacking you around sounds like a good idea.

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