It Was a Very Bad Year

FIFTY-EIGHT

‘Not so smart, are ya?’ one asked.

‘You don’t learn your lesson, do ya?’ the other asked.

‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I do.’

‘Huh?’ one asked.

Their huge hands were empty, no guns, so when Jerry stepped out of the dark, his gun was still tucked away.

‘Meet my friend,’ I said.

The two of them eyed Jerry warily. They were big, but he was bigger. In the darkness I heard some more feet scraping the floor, and then the sound of running. At the sight of Jerry, Irwin was taking off.

‘Hey,’ one of the Rienzas said, ‘he ain’t supposed to be here.’

‘Go, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘I got this.’

No weapons came out. It looked as if the Rienza brothers were gonna go mano-a-mano with Jerry. I wasn’t sure about leaving him alone, but then I wasn’t so sure I wouldn’t be more hindrance to him than help if I stayed.

‘Go!’ he snapped.

At that moment a door opened somewhere in the warehouse. Light flooded in, and then the door slammed.

I turned and headed for the front door.

By the time I got outside there was no way I could figure out which door Irwin had used. I scanned the parking lot, but didn’t see anyone running away from the place. Suddenly I heard the sound of a motor. From the left side of the warehouse a motorcycle appeared, heading for the street. The rider was wearing a helmet. The only way I knew it was Barney Irwin was the flash of pastels as he went by. Even the helmet was powder blue.

I thought about jumping in my car and chasing him, but I knew I’d never catch him. He was gone. We’d been looking for cars or trucks when we drove around the building. Somehow, we’d missed the bike.

I turned and went back inside.

In the circle of light Jerry had one of the Rienza brothers down on his belly. His hands were locked with the other one, as if they were in the center of a wrestling ring, and the Rienza was not faring well in the test of strength. His knees began to bend as Jerry slowly showed his superior strength.

The Rienza who was down was not out. He started to move and in the yellow light I saw a glint of metal. I ran forward and, for want of a better idea, I kicked the Rienza in the head. He grunted, dropped his gun to the concrete with a clatter.

‘Gun, Jerry!’ I said.

Jerry risked a look over his shoulder at me, then turned his attention back to the second Rienza. Abruptly, he lifted his knee into the man’s face. I heard bones crunch and, as teeth fell to the floor, the other man fell on to his back with a groan. Jerry quickly bent, patted him down, and came away with a.38.

I picked up the first man’s gun, which was also a.38.

‘What about Irwin?’ Jerry asked.

‘He took off on a motorcycle by the time I got outside.’

‘How did we miss that?’

I shrugged.

‘How was that fella Wayne killed?’ Jerry asked me. He wasn’t even out of breath.

‘I’m not sure.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘if he was shot, it might’ve been with one of these guns. These guys are dumb enough to keep it.’

I looked down at the two unconscious brothers.

‘Maybe,’ I said, ‘we should make an anonymous call of our own to the cops.’