The Gentlemen's Hour

133

Shut it down.

What Johnny’s lieutenant told him.

His shift commander listened patiently to Johnny’s rendition of Boone’s Paradise Homes story, nodded vigorously at the salient points, whistled appreciatively when Johnny mentioned some of the names allegedly involved, then told him . . .

Shut it down.

Actually, shut it the fuck down.

“You came in here,” Lieutenant Romero said, “and we talked about baseball. The Pads have no middle relief, I’m glad we agree on that. You left.”

“But—”

“But fucking nothing, Kodani,” Romero said. “You push on that, you know what pushes back? Weight comes from above, my ambitious friend, and do you know who’s between you and the above? That would be me. Shut it the fuck down.”

“Burke will pursue it,” Johnny argued, “even if we don’t. One way or the other.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” the lieutenant said. “Far as I’m concerned, this is one multimillionaire against another. Let them rip each other to shreds and we’ll pick up the pieces. But you don’t, repeat for emphasis, you do not go anywhere near Bill Blasingame. People are going to think you have some kind of hard-on for that family, John.”

So now Johnny is on his way to roust Bill Blasingame.

He finds him at home.

With dirt in his mouth.