Rat Pack 04 You're Nobody 'Til Somebody Kills You by Robert J. Randisi

Author:Robert J. Randisi [Randisi, Robert J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780312376437
Publisher: St. Martin's Press
Published: 2009-05-10T04:00:00+00:00

Thirty-five

WHEN WE GOT IN the car Jerry asked, “What’s the address?”

I read it off for him.

“How do we get there?”

“I don’t know,” I said.

“We could ask directions.”

“We’re from Brooklyn,” I said, “we don’t ask directions.”

“Well, then … how are we gonna get there?”

I looked at him. “We’ll ask for directions.”

After we stopped at a gas station for help we drove to an apartment building on the outskirts of Brentwood.

“I thought Brentwood was all rich people and movie stars,” Jerry said, parking in front of the building.

“So did I.”

“So where did this block come from?”

“This must be the Brentwood slums.”

“I’m glad I have my gun,” he said.

“You do?” I asked. “But … in the police station …”

“I left it in the trunk.”

“The trunk?” I said. “Of my car?”

“Well, I didn’t think they’d search your car,” he said. “Why would they?”

“Yeah,” I said, “why would they?”

Trying a second look at the building, I decided it probably was a good thing that Jerry had his gun.

We opened the trunk and he dug the .45 out of the wheel well, stuck it in his belt.

“No holster?”

“That would’ve looked suspicious,” he said. “I mean, if I was wearing an empty holster?”

We started toward the building, and I put my hand on his arm to stop him.

“When exactly did you put the gun in the trunk?”

“Before you drove to the police station.”

“Why?”

“I had a bad feelin’.”

“A bad feelin’?”

“Yeah, that they was gonna pick me up. I figured those assholes from Palm Springs was gonna squeal.”

We walked to the building. There were doorbells, but only a few had names on them.

“Jerry.”

“Yeah, Mr. G.?”

“The next time you have a bad feelin’ will you let me know?”

“Sure, Mr. G.”

We tried the front door and it was unlocked. In fact, the lock was broken.

“Mr. G.?”

“Yeah.”

“This is it,” he said. “I got a bad feelin’ about this.”

“Mmm, me, too.”

We went in. The urine smell was enough to make my eyes sting.

“What apartment?” he asked.

I looked at the index card.

“Two-C.”

“Second floor.”

We went up the steps, walked past only one apartment that seemed to be occupied. A radio was playing, and a child was wailing. When we got to 2C Jerry drew his gun.

“Me first, Mr. G.”

I nodded.

He reached for the doorknob and it turned easily.

“This has got to be a phony address,” I said.

“Why?” Jerry asked. “When the guy got the job at the motel why would he give a phony address?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe …”

He pushed the door open and went in quickly with the gun held out in front of him. I waited until he waved me in.

I left the door open and looked around. There was a sagging sofa with one broken leg and an armchair with half the stuffing sticking out. Off to the left was a folding table with a slightly limp fourth leg.

“Nobody even bothered to try and make it look lived in,” Jerry said.

“There’s a kitchen, and another room. Bedroom?”

“We better check,” he said.

I nodded.

“You take the kitchen, Mr. G.”

“Right.”

No body, I thought, thank God there was no body.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.