The Three Dollar Phoenix - Walt Sautter (best way to read e books .txt) 📗

They’ll find Bull, that poor son of a bitch, in some fish’s belly. If I had my way I’d just shoot the bastard or even better just forget the whole thing but the man says do it and do it his way and don’t fuck up. So he’s all yours.”
“Why they wanna do in this dude so bad, anyway? Who is he?”
“He’s a guy who’s stickin’ his nose in the wrong rat holes. That’s all I know and it’s all you gotta know. You don’t wanna be puttin’ your nose in the wrong hole now do ya?” replied one of them in a threatening sort of tone.
“Don’t be a smart ass or you’ll be doin’ your own shit here” came the sharp rebuttal.
“I’m just tryin to keep ya outta trouble, if ya know what I mean “ said the first man in a pacifying voice.
The footsteps stopped outside the door and a jingle of keys pierced the momentarily silence. Ed sat motionless. He could see the interment flashes of light dancing through the cracks in the door frame as they fumbled to unlock the chain.
“There it is. Now, have ya got it straight.
Here’s the stuff. One shot of this and it’s good night for keeps. It’s a dynamite stick. Leave the works in him. Makes it look better.”
“Shoulda done it this way in the first place instead of screwin’ around with that fake suicide shit. But that’s the way they wanted it. It’s suppose to make the dude look like a real turkey so everybody thinks he’s a fuck up, and nobody believes any of his shit, ya know what I mean? This has gotta be good enough now. Like I said before I don’t even wanna look at this guy again.”
“When do I see ya for the rest of the cash?”
“Tomorrow, like I told ya. I gotta get mine first.”
“If I don’t see ya tomorrow, I’m gonna be doin’ one more job free” the voice replied menacingly.
“I’m getting’ outta of here. The friggin’ guy’s a jinx” came the unruffled reply as the loosened chain slammed against the door.
With that the muffled conversation ended and the sound of receding footsteps began.
After a brief silence, the handle of the door turned. Slowly it opened and the glare of a flashlight beam filled the dark void of the bin. It sprayed the dirty wall and floor with its blinding illumination as it moved back and forth in the black door opening.
Ed instinctively raised his hands to cover his eyes as the light moved over him. Then it started towards him. He could feel his stomach tighten into a hard wrenching knot. He was powerless to move. Fear gripped him from head to foot.
Suddenly, the approaching beam stopped barely three feet in front of him. A low gravely voice spoke in a slow muted whisper.
“Doc, don’t say nothin’. Just listen and do what I tell ya.”
It was a vaguely familiar voice. For a moment, Ed had thought one of the voices was familiar when he first heard them outside the bin, but he wasn’t sure. He had attributed it to wishful thinking. But now he knew.
“Don’t do nothin’. Just stay here. I’ll be comin’ right back. I gotta be sure everything is on the O.K.”
With that the light swept back across the doorway as the figure silently turned and moved towards it. Ed could see a large, burly silhouette in the reflected light as he disappeared into the darkness.
He could feel an exhausted calm spread over him. He was safe, at least for the moment. The relief was so overwhelming that it sapped all the strength from him and he was still on the dirt floor of the cell. His fatigue was so great that even the wide open door failed to tempt his exit.
He lay motionless, awaiting the promised return of the anonymous savior.
Again, the sound of approaching voices echoed down the hallway.
“I just gotta see that it’s done”
“Don’t ya trust me?” replied the gravelly voice, with a sense of indignation.
“I’m the man whose gotta get it done. If things don’t go down right again, it’s my ass. I gotta be sure this time” came the reply.
The light again filled the room and showered over Ed’s still form. Now, his heart began to pound as the brightness penetrated through his closed eyelids.
“Looks O.K.”
“Wanna go kiss him and see if he’s breathin’?”
“Don’t give me none of your shit. I’m just doin’ my job like you.”
With that, the room again darkened and the voices receded and Ed again slid into unconsciousness. Scarcely five minutes passed and he was awakened by the biting aroma of cigar smoke piercing the damp mildew of the room. He slowly opened his eyes to see a large form crouched over him. The flashlight beam was shining away from his face and his eyes began to adjust to the dim light. He could just see the glowing tip of a cigar clenched in the stranger’s teeth. He strained through the shadows to see the face hovering over him. Then, a large, black hand grasped his upper arm and in the next second he felt himself being picked from the floor like a sack of potatoes.
In an instant he was flung over a broad, rock hard shoulder and carried from the dark, foul smelling prison. When he again opened his eyes, he found himself slumped in the front seat of a moving car. As he rolled his head over, the passing street lights lit the driver’s face.
A sudden joy of recognition surged over him and bought him to full consciousness in seconds. He struggled to straighten himself in the seat as the driver glanced over to him.
“How you doin’ there, Doc? You sure know how to get your ass in some nasty places. You’re lucky your old brother Sam came on by or you’d be a couple of C notes in the undertaker’s pocket about now.”
Ed tried to speak but he could only produce a coarse whisper.
“How, in God’s name did you find me?” he choked out.
“Find you? You found me, man” Sam began.
“The guy that wanted ya stiffed was a cash and carry man. Him and his partner was in that business for years. They musta done twenty jobs, I know ‘bout. Some of my business partners used them a couple of times back in the seventies when there was trouble over who was supposed to sell what, where. They helped straighten the problem up real good.
With you, things didn’t work out fast. They was good boys. Real pros. Knew their stuff. Not so good for ‘em this time though” said Sam in his slow, gravelly, sing-song tone.
He spoke with a faint touch of remorse and respect, as if referring to the passing of a craftsman and the loss of his fine art.
“His buddy, Bull didn’t make it. That crazy accident on the bridge made him fish bait and scared hell outta Migs. After that happened, Migs, he thought you was a jinx. I guess I woulda too, if it was me. It was just real good luck that saved your ass, Doc. You’d better do some fine prayin’ tonight, I’d say.”
Sam paused and looked over towards Ed for a moment, almost awaiting a confirming response. When none came, he looked back to the road and continued.
“Migs, he’s spooked. He don’t. want no part of you after that, but he’s gotta do the job. He’s got his orders and he’s gotta do it or he’d wind up getting’ in with Bull and he don’t want that. So he looks for somebody to do the job for him. I’m sittin’ down at Jingo’s and one of my boys I take care of, comes on in and say’s Migs is down at one of the shoot ‘em ups and he got some white boy he wants stiffed and he’s gonna pay real good. He wants me to get him a man to do it. When I go down to see what the job is and why he don’t just do it himself, he tells me the story about the guy bein’ a doc and that big money wants him stiffed. After what happened to the clinic and all the other shit goin’ around the street about you, I kinda put it together and I told him I wanted to see the mark, when I see it’s you, I says to him I’d do it.
You’re one lucky son of a bitch, Doc. Migs, he’s gonna be a pissed off dude when he finds out you aint there but he’s not gonna fuck with Sam, that’s to be sure” Sam finished, authoritatively.
“He knows better than that. Besides, I aint took no money anyway.”
“How’s he going to know?” asked Ed.
“He gave a kid a saw buck to call the cops and tell ‘em that a white guy was dead with a needle hangin’ outta his arm. That way everybody that is supposed to knows he did his job and he gets paid.”
“Why didn’t they just kill me? They had me in that car trunk for hours” Ed asked in a hoarse, inquisitive whisper.
“That’s what I says to Migs when he tells me the story. I said, how come you don’t just go down by the river and shot the mother fucker in the head?”
“He says he’s suppose to make it look like you done yourself in. That’s what him and Bull were gonna do, give ya a throw off the bridge. After all the shit with Bull goin’ over the side like he did, Migs wasn’t up to all that fancy shit so he says the smack trip gotta do.”
The conversation lulled for a time as Sam continued to drive.
“Where are you going?” Ed asked weakly.
“We’re goin’ to my place and get you fixed up.
You aint lookin’ so good” and with that Sam pressed down a bit harder on the accelerator.

Chapter XV

Ed awoke several hours later, in a small, well kept room. The shades were drawn and the drapes pulled tightly together. A night light was burning dimly on the dresser in the corner. A crack of sunlight crept through a narrow space between the drapes and the window frame and struck the far wall. The illuminated dial of the clock on the night stand read ten-thirty.
Ed began to sit up as the door opened revealing a tall, slender woman standing in the entrance.
“This is a switch. The patient’s a doctor” she announced in a sparkling tone.
Ed ran a perplexed gaze from the top of her shiny, free flowing hair, down across her beautiful face, over her slim, rounded body to her long graceful legs. She was in her early twenties with a look of soft elegance about her. She stood with an inviting smile on her lips awaiting his response.
“Let me make it easier for you” she interjected upon seeing his bewilderment.
“My name’s Melinda. I’m Sam’s daughter.”
Then Ed remembered. Sam used to talk about his little girl all the time. She wasn’t his real child, that is by blood, but a kid he’d picked up out of the street after her mother ODed on heroin. He only talked about that once. If it hadn’t been for that one time, Ed thought the kid was his own flesh and blood, the way he spoke of her.