The Troubleshooter: Red-Eyed Killer Page 3

  “So what happened?”

  Big Louie shoveled a heavy load of spaghetti down his throat. “Seems the seller backed out on the deal at the last minute. When the broker settled all parties, something came up short. Namely the dough that Luzzatti put up for the deal. Well, the party that I represented wasn’t too happy about that. Looked like Luzzatti set the whole thing up to grift us over and make off with the cash.”

  I frowned. “Doesn’t make sense. Even if Luzzatti was that type of slickster, he’d have gotten ghost as soon as the deal went through.”

  Big Louie flicked sauce across the table as he gestured with his fork. “Leaving New Haven ain’t nothing easy. If you ever tried then you’d know that. Getting outta any of the Havens is a long process, and this one’s the worst. Luzzatti’s been trying, all right. But my third party nixed those plans with his connections inside of Transit.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t buy it. Luzzatti ain’t the type to cross a mug over. There’s gotta be another explanation for all this.”

  Big Louie chuckled around his glass of wine. “You seem like a loyal mug, Mick. That’s hard to come by in this town. But lemme give you a bit of advice free of charge. Your boy Luzzatti’s going down. It ain’t gonna be nothing pretty either. Best to cool your heels the next few days unless you like lead buttons in your overcoat. The only reason the old man is still living is because he’s related to Danny the Daisy.”

  I blinked. “Danny the Daisy is related to Luzzatti?”

  Danny was one of the more colorful Nimrods in New Haven. By colorful I mean that his wardrobe could blind you from the vibrant shades of pastels. His rags were so loud that they screamed. And let’s just say that he wasn’t exactly the most masculine of mugs. None of which changed the fact that he was one of the most deadly triggermen in the city.

  Big Louie shrugged his massive doughboy shoulders. “In-law, actually. Danny the Daisy is Mrs. Luzzatti’s brother. She don’t exactly advertise that, you know? But he’s crazy about that girl they have. Anyhow, it’s already set up. Danny’s leaving town soon. He’s gonna get word of a tag too profitable to ignore. Something that’ll take him outta town to bag. That’s when my operator will go to work. It’s a done deal, Mick. After it’s over, you can work for me if you need a gig.”

  “Call it off, Louie. Give me a little time to settle up.”

  Big Louie paused and stabbed the air with his heavily loaded fork. “This is business, Mick. You know as well as I do that there ain’t no mercy in business. Now take a hike, and stay outta the way. You’ve been warned.” He went back to attacking his plate.

  I stood up and placed my Bogart back on my head. “I’m sorry that we can’t get a deal done. But I’m telling you right now that the Luzzatti’s are off limits. Better call off the dogs or I’ll be forced to housebreak ‘em.”

  Big Louie pointedly ignored my threat and stared past me. “Joey, our guest has overstayed his welcome. Why don’t you show Mr. Trubble the door?”

  Joey cracked his knuckles. “Ok, boss.”

  Joey showed me the door. By shoving my face through it. The rest of me followed soon after. By the time I picked myself off the pavement, Joey was just getting warmed up. He went to work like a boxer trying out for a shot at the title. The memory is a bit hazy.

  Getting your ass kicked usually ain’t something you wanna remember anyhow.

  “Mick Trubble! What happened to your face?” As luck goes, it wasn’t very kind to have Natasha cross paths with me on my way back to the pad. She immediately zeroed in on my downtrodden condition, which was pretty hard to miss, actually. You know, given all the blood and bruises.

  “Hey darlin’. Ain’t you a sight for sore eyes.” My eyes really were sore, too. Getting punched in the face will usually result in that. I continued to limp toward my apartment. “How’re your folks doing? Any unexpected visitors that I should know about?”

  Natasha took my arm. “Look at you, you can barely walk.”

  “I’ll get better.”

  “Don’t be silly, Mick Trubble. Here, lean on me.”

  That killed me, her thinking that her tiny frame could really support mine. I let her baby me anyway. Her gentle touch was way better than spending the last half hour being used as a substitute punching bag. Normally I’m not that bad when it comes to fisticuffs, but Joey had laughed off my best haymaker like it was nothing. I almost started to suspect that he was a synoid, but I figured he was just one of those freaks of nature who add to their freakishness by taking growth hormones and lifting buildings for fun.

  My door opened from my holoband’s signal and Natasha led me inside. “We haven’t had any company, Mick Trubble. Papa is still recovering from the robbery, so we haven’t seen much of anyone lately.”

  The robbery. So that was the excuse Luzzatti had given for looking like someone tossed him in a meat grinder. I knew that he didn’t want Natasha to know the real deal, so I kept mum and just nodded.

  She sat me down and robbed my medicine kit of all the stuff that stings like hell. Then she attacked the cuts and bruises on my face. It was almost funny because she gasped and winced more than I did.

  “I can get the medimech to tack care of all this, sweetheart.”

  “I want to do it.” She had one of those stubborn looks on her face that dames get sometimes. I knew better than to argue.

  She bandaged the bridge of my nose. “You’re lucky. I don’t think it’s broken. Who did this to you?”

  “I gotta be more careful when I get off the station at night. You should see the other mug, though.”

  “He’d have to be dead, Mick Trubble. Take your shirt off.”

  I obeyed, stripping to the waist. Natasha gasped at the sight of my torso. I took a glance at the damage. It was pretty gruesome, I had to admit. My bruises were layered with more bruises. Only the fact that I still had a little hard muscle kept the ribs from being broken. Ol’ Joey was an expert in dealing out pain. Just enough to keep a mug outta the body shop. Not every bruno can toe the line like that. Most tend to go overboard, like the droppers who put the work to Luzzatti.

  Natasha spread some nanocream over the bruises. The medicated salve was laced with microscopic, protein-based machines that absorbed into the underlying tissue and worked at repairing the damage. Expensive as hell, but if you’re in my line of work it’ll save a trip or two to the body shop. The sensation was like being roasted over hot coals and then dumped into a tub of ice. I’ve had better times, but the bruises quickly faded and almost vanished altogether.

  Natasha ran her hands over the newly healed skin. “Wow. That was fast. Much faster than they should have healed even with the cream.”

  “What can I say? I always heal pretty quickly.” I couldn’t exactly explain that oddity, but I never bothered to wonder about anything that actually worked to my advantage. I had enough things to worry about that didn’t.

  We both became aware that I was shirtless and her hands were on my bare skin. She blushed real pretty-like and stepped back as I cleared my throat and reached for my undershirt.

  “Much obliged for taking care of me, sweetheart.”

  She busied herself by putting all the medication away. “I haven’t seen much of you since…”

  I walked over to the wardrobe by the wall and snagged a new shirt, since the one I wore in looked like I’d been run over by a dump truck. “Been busy. Work and all.”

  “Kinda feels like you’ve been avoiding me, Mick Trubble. I feel like… I did something to push you away.” She cut a quick glance at me, just fast enough for me to catch the hurt in her eyes.

  I sighed as I buttoned up my shirt and knotted my tie. “Listen… there’s a lot about me that I gotta keep to myself. I promise we’ll sit down and talk about it soon. You deserve that. But right now I got a plate full of trouble that someone has to eat, and I’m trying to make sure that I’m not that someone, understand?”

  “No.” She smiled. “But I can wait. I’m not going anywhere, you kn
ow.”

  “I’m glad for that, Natasha. I really am. Now promise that you’ll do something for me, will you?”

  “You know that I will.”

  I took her by the wrist and touched her holoband to mine. “I’m synching us up. That way if you see anything strange, or if anything happens, you send me a priority call right away.”

  She searched my face with a puzzled frown. “Is something going on, Mick Trubble? You can tell me. I’m not some little girl that can’t handle the truth.”

  “I know.” I paused, then decided that she was right. “Look, it’s your Pa. He’s in a heap of trouble with some bad business. You can’t say nothing to him about it. I’m doing what I can to straighten things out, but time’s running out. You just alert me to anything that looks outta place, or anyone shows up that you feel is trouble. I’ll come running.”

  To her credit she took it better than I thought she would. She swallowed her fear down and handed me my Bogart. “I guess I’d better let you do… whatever it is that you do.”

  “I’ll tell you when it’s over.” I placed the Bogart on my head and tilted it just the way I liked it. “Thanks, doll.” I indicated my bandaged face. “It’s nice to have someone look out after me for a change.”

  She smiled as she straightened out my collar. “You’d do the same for me, Mick Trubble.”

  “I would, but I hope I never have to. Keep your chin up, kid. I’ll see you around.”

  Chapter 5: The Low Down On the Down Low

  To be honest I was the one that needed to keep a chin up, because I had a bad feeling that only grew worse when I stepped outside of the complex. I dipped into a cabbie that waited on the curb. The sensors picked up my holoband’s signal as the motor purred to life.

  The vehicle’s synthetic voice fizzled on. “Where will I be taking you, Mr. Trubble?”

  “Downtown. The Gaiden.”

  “Right away, Mr. Trubble.”

  I shifted around in the back seat and tried to ignore the soreness. Quick healing can hurt almost as bad as the original injury, and my head pounded against my skull like an angry drummer with only one note to play. I needed two things badly. Information, and a stiff drink.

  Luckily I knew where to find both.

  The Gaiden was one of those swanky Downtown clip joints that a mug like me normally doesn’t frequent too often. The booze was too high and the dames were too snobby. It was the hotspot for fat cats who liked the thrill of rubbing elbows with smooth criminals and gentlemen gangsters.

  The joint was located a bit off to its own on the shady side of Downtown. Normally a reservation was needed, but I knew Suggs, the doorman. He didn’t even blink when I cut in front of the astonished patrons waiting to get inside. I ignored their protests and stepped through the doors.

  The coat check was a synoid, which showed how much bread the joint made. Couldn’t make do with a standard android. The artificial dame was all smiles and dimples as she took my flogger and synched my holoband to the tag. “Thank you Mr. Trubble. Shall I take your Bogart as well?”

  “Not on your life, kid.”

  “Very well. Enjoy your time at the Gaiden!”

  I paused at the cocktail lounge and tapped the counter. Vinny, the twitchy, narrow-faced barkeep stepped over for my order.

  “Bulleit Neat.”

  As he poured it up I took a glance around. Fats the Jazz Man played trumpet on a solo cut while the patrons looked on in appreciation. In a lot of joints the musician was just an accessory that faded in the background, but Fats was too good. He poured his soul into every note, and his soul was a wonder to hear. A few mugs cut glances at me through the haze of gasper smoke and slick laid conversations, trying to figure my game out. My rags were too shabby to mark me as a regular, but I definitely didn’t look like a tourist. I let them simmer in the mystery as I sipped the bourbon.

  “Frankie here tonight, Vinny?”

  Vinny didn’t say a word. He just glanced over to his right. I followed his gaze and caught sight of Frankie Newman standing over a table full of wise guys. He was slender and tall, with a smooth persona that made men comfortable and ladies swoon. The group was all drunken laughs and friendly backslaps. Frankie knew a lot of mobsters because he sang in their prestigious nightclubs. Far as they knew he was just a harmless crooner, so they tended to get loose lips around him. As a result he knew a lot more than he should have about sensitive info around New Haven.

  He looked up and caught my eye. Without skipping a beat he nodded toward the dressing rooms. I finished my bourbon and headed that way.

  His dressing room was the largest one. Lots of mirrors and lights for him to fall in love with himself. I was only in there a couple of minutes before he joined me. His face was completely different than out in the dining room. His expression was sharp as tacks, his eyes full of knowing.

  I’m pretty sure Frankie knew more about why I ended up in the river than he let on. But he was the sort of mug who wouldn’t give up something for nothing. So far I hadn’t been able to find something that he needed badly enough to exchange the info. He was more than happy to sell anyone else’s dirty laundry for a nominal fee, however. Usually I hit him up for small fries. This time I needed the whole deluxe meal, with trimmings.

  He casually lounged in the opposite seat. “I figured I’d see you days ago. What happened to your face?”

  “Had a little run-in with a bruno named Joey.”

  “I know. That was a rhetorical question. Now you’re coming to me for info on the third party involved in that bum casino deal.”

  “Looks like you got all the answers, Ace.”

  “I always do. But now I have a question.”

  “Shoot. Just not literally.”

  He smiled at my weak attempt at humor. “Why get involved, Mick? You don’t owe Mr. Luzzatti anything. So why the interest in his welfare? Let me guess. That raven-haired lovely girl of his, no doubt?”

  “I’m not sweet on his daughter, Frankie. Luzzatti’s done right by me. I don’t wanna see him tossed to the dogs.”

  Frankie pulled a gasper out of a silver trimmed case on the table and lit it. “I’m rather surprised. I didn’t take you as the type for such… sentimentality.”

  I bummed one of his expensive smokes. “Yeah, I’m full of surprises. You gonna give me the wire or what?”

  For a second I thought Frankie was about to refuse. He studied me as he exhaled a cloud of smoke. I didn’t like the calculating look in his eyes. The way that he weighed things out in his mind as though tabulating possible outcomes. The look quickly vanished, replaced by the guise of an easy grin.

  “The man you’re looking for is Alonzo Pickens. You might know him by his more notorious moniker.”

  “Pike.”

  “Precisely. Which might tell you that you need to let this one pass, Mick. The Pike is a deadly creature. Especially when in his element. You’re just a small fish in a big pond. This… this is deep water that you’re swimming in.”

  I shrugged. “Mug’s gotta graduate sometime, Newman. How much do I owe you?”

  I couldn’t tell through the screen of gasper smoke, but he still seemed to have a knowing grin on his face. “Nothing. Consider this a favor. You’ve… intrigued me with this one, Mick. I’ll see how it plays out.”

  I stood up and put my hand on the door handle.

  “Mick.”

  I turned. Frankie seemed almost bored as he dropped the news. “You should know that Pike and Big Louie conned your boy from the start.”

  “Say what?”

  “Big Louie runs scams like that from time to time. Sets up a fake deal to hook the mark and lets if fall through. Uses the fallout to put pressure on the mark to pay up on money that was never really loaned. Pike owns the casino through ghost accounts and never stood to lose a dime.”

  “So why do it at all? I don’t see the point.”

  “Because by blaming Luzzatti for a deal gone sour then they can squeeze him for what they want.”
/>
  “What do they want? Luzzatti ain’t exactly loaded. The only thing of value he has is…” I trailed off as it hit me.

  Frankie smiled. “Yes. The Luzzatti. They want the real estate. It’s a prime location for Big Louie’s operation. He’s looking to expand beyond sharking loans and small time smuggling. Pike is bankrolling the move. Luzzatti didn’t grift anyone. He’s just in the way, and they’re taking him out of the picture.”

  I crushed the gasper in the ashtray. “That’s not gonna happen.”

  Newman raised an eyebrow. “You have an army hidden somewhere, Mick? Last time I checked, you weren’t exactly big enough to take on an operation like Pike’s.” He looked at my wrist. “You’re glowing.”

  I felt the vibration at that exact moment, and looked at my holoband. My heart dropped as it showed exactly what I didn’t wanna see.

  Natasha’s emergency signal flashed. The pulse seemed to vibrate through my body and explode in my skull like a silent scream for help.

  The hit was going down. Right then, and I wasn’t anywhere close by to do a thing about it.

  Chapter 6: Scene Of the Crime

  It took me a minute to run out of The Gaiden. Twenty seconds to flag a cabbie. Fifteen long, agonizing minutes to get to The Luzzatti even at top speed.

  I knew it was too late when I got there.

  The avenue was filled with flashing lights. Button boys crawled around the joint like disturbed ants and newsbots hovered around, shutter bugging the scene. Tenants were questioned outside, some of them with tears streaming down their faces. I skipped the scene and went around the back. A copper that I knew allowed me to pass through the barricade. I caught the lift to the Luzzatti’s floor and dashed into the hall. It was filled with boys in black. Their faces were grim. One of them looked my way.