Vintage, Page 3

  The forced the door open and two of them went in. No sooner had they gone in than sounds of gunfire were heard. There was a yelp, then the two men came out pulling little Joe.

  Little Joe, Ken gasped. They roughly set him down. The man said something to the men. One of them left and went towards the motorcycle. He came back with a bottle. Little Joe said something, then the man with the bottle emptied the contents of the bottle on him. It was when the one of the men lit a match that Ken realized what would become of little Joe. The lit match was thrown on little Joe who was instantly set ablaze. He screamed and squirmed, then a shot rang out, killing him. The men across the street towards the bar, leaving the corpse burning.

  Up where he was, Ken realized they might be coming for him. He would probably end up like little Joe. Somehow they found out he talked and they killed him. So Hector..... Wait, Hector had said there would be a gun in the safe if anything went wrong. There were cartridges, but he couldn't remember seeing a gun... Santa Maria, he inwardly exclaimed.

  Leaving the window, Ken went over to the painting and with shaky hands, he lit a match. Moving the little light over the wall, he found the man on the boat. Again, he gasped. It was same man that had arrived on the motorcycle. Hector had said there would be a gun in the safe, Hector said there would be a gun in the safe, he kept saying that mantra. Balling this fist, he hit on the man's hat. The click came and revealed the safe.

  This time, he almost fainted. The safe was empty.

  * * *

  Ken rapped sharply on the door, breathing hard. He had tried praying but to his dismay, he discovered he had forgotten how to pray. If he ever escaped this town, he would buy a prayer book and learn how to pray. He was standing on same street he'd been on the first day he'd arrived. He was at the store where he had first bought the two packs of cigarettes.

  The door opened and he saw Candice. Her eyes were raised in surprise.

  "What are you doing here?" She asked.

  "You told me where you live." He said.

  He roughly pushed her inside. It was a sitting room, scantily furnished. It had two couches and two chairs. However, something stood out. On the wall,

  "You know all about me don't you?”

  "Listen. Leave this town. I'm telling you go away and when you return to London don't work for your boss. Avoid him."

  Ken collapsed on one of the couches. It was over for him. It seem everyone in the town had read his Biography.

  "So everyone knew I was coming to this town even before I arrived ? "

  She nodded.

  "You boss has ties with the gang here and he works for someone very big in London. We were told you were working on something that could attract problem to him. Neither that person nor you boss wants trouble. So he sends you here as thought he wanted you working."

  Ken suddenly felt weak. All energy had gone out of him.

  "You people, you killed little Joe."

  "No Ken, it was Jake."

  Just then, a loud knock came on the door.

  * * *

  Collin, holding a Thompson and smoking a cigarette walked round the almost dark room. It was an old room. All the paint had peeled off the damp wall, the floor was damp and dirty. Stacked against the walls were boxes and barrels. Men holding guns stood in the corners.

  At the far end of the room, tied to a chair was Ken, standing him was Candice. He was scared as he just realized how much his life meant to him, as the fact that he didn't want to die just yet rested on him, although he knew the end had come.

  "I will not kill you Ken." Collin's voice came, "It's barely your fault things are happening this way."

  "If you won't kill me then just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone this happened. I won't even go back to London. "

  "Listen to me Ken. I like you and never had any intention of killing you. After all why would I waste someone for Hector who barely pays me any attention. He mostly deals with my jealous brother, Jake." Collin pouted as he lit a cigarette.

  "Jake is your brother? "

  Collin nodded.

  Just then, someone opened the door and marched in. It was Valerie. She was holding a gun. She leaned on the wall, ignoring everyone.

  "Let me tell you Ken, what happened. Since we were young, Jake and I never got along together. We always fought and even when we began forming gangs, each formed his own and our men were always fighting. I took this town and Jake took the neighbouring one. We paid off the sheriffs. Everyone kept to their town. If anyone from there came here, they died instantly. Either they get knifed, or shot or anything happens.

  One day, a wealthy man came here and began talking about paying us to do things for him. He was from London, very far from here and he worked for a newspaper. That was your boss, Hector.

  The arrangement was he would send a man over here, and we would kill him. No one would ever know. Over the years, newspaper boys like you have been sent to us and they've all been killed.

  Now Hector preferred I did the killing, which did not go down well with Jake. So it was agreed we both handled the work and we share the money, me getting the bulk of it, although I still did the killing.

  Now, you come along and my sister fell in love with you. "

  Ken sucked in breath and looked at Valerie. She stared back at him without emotion, giving him a murderous look. Collin continued.

  "Usually, the men sent to us die the day they arrive here. I spared you, mind you that your knife throwing was well known to me. That painting in your room was done by one of the boys who had been sent here. Another constructed the safe. We would never have found out but for your boss. So I made sure the gun left your safe."

  He kept quiet, allowing silence to rest over the room.

  "I told you that Jake and I never got along but I never told you why did I? "

  "No." Ken, still scared replied in a barely audible voice, almost a whisper.

  Collin pointed to Valerie.

  "It was her." He said.

  Valerie shifted uneasily, and then walked out of the room.

  "She had always chosen me over him, since she was a kid. This annoyed Jake a lot. Now I would never do anything to hurt my little sister, and that is why I have decided to let you go."

  He gestured to one of his men. The man went over to Ken and untied him.

  "I will help you leave here. But don't return to London. If you must, your boss must not see you. Jake is still mad as to why you are still alive."

  Someone knocked sharply on the door. A voice came through.

  "Boss, Jake is bringing men and they are shooting."

  "All of you come with me." Collin said leaving the room.

  Everyone followed him. They went unto a staircase and began ascending hurriedly. At the head of the stairs were some men holding Tommy guns.

  "They're all over the town boss." One of them began. Collin ignored them. He was already at the end of the stairs. He Looked around and saw a window. He went over to it and looked out. Outside was black with smoke.

  A gunshot rang through the night, it was replied by a rattling machine gun. Screams were everywhere.

  "Let's go down. Give everyone a gun ! " Collin Shouted.

  As they stumbled down the stairs, Ken ducked aside and let everyone pass, then began going down after them, slowly. He could still hear Collin shouting out orders. At the end of the stairs, he headed off to the room he'd been kept in earlier. He edged closer to the door and pushed it open. There is no one inside. Moving in slowly, he went to where he had been sitting earlier. Beside the chair was his rucksack. Picking it up very quickly, he went out of the room, slinging if across his left shoulder. At the door, he turned left and stood still, listening. The only thing he heard were rattling gunshots. He was badly shaken. As though threading on egg shells, he walked down the passage to the bar and peered in. It is empty, but another sight greeted him. It was the waiter. His head was lying on the counter with a bullet hole between his eyes, the rest of his body hidden behind the cou
nter.

  Swearing under his breath, Ken moved slowly towards the door that led to the yard. A silhouette appeared and vanished. He would have missed it if he had not been looking intently in front of him, for it happened very quickly. Like lightening, his hands went to his sides, for his knives as he crouched and advanced further.

  Then he heard two men moving around just ahead of him. Hiding behind a wall projection, He peered slowly. There were two men, holding a Thompson and approaching him. Taking a deep breath, He moved out from hiding and threw the knives at them. Both fell, clutching their chests.

  Walking in between the fallen bodies, he walked down to yard door; it was open. The peered out.

  He saw Collin tied to a chair; Valarie and Candice were also tied, each on a chair. All round them stood men with guns. The huge man that he had seen arrive on a motorcycle was moving around, shooting death glares now and then at Collin. So that is Jake, Collin thought.

  Looking ahead of him, Ken saw a large flower vase. An idea occurred to him. Going on his hands and knees, the crawled to the vase and hid behind it.

  "I have no reason to let any of you live. You stole my sister, and you little sister have caused me pain. Lots of pain"

  Going over to one of his men, Jake snatched a Thompson and turned facing Collin, who looked at him with disgust.

  "Go to hell," He said.

  Mad with fury, Jake squeezed on the trigger. The bullets ripped Collin's Chest apart as he fell with his chair fell backwards to the ground, motionless. Valerie screamed, Candice was crying.

  "You've killed him. I hate you even more!! You're so miserable."

  "I love you very much little sister. So much that it causes me pain. But look at it, you don't even care about me. Why should I care about you if you don't give a damn if I live or die? I'm going to kill you."

  "Please I beg you spare us." Candice begged.

  "Yes. We will all go and live with you if you want."

  "Sorry kid sister, but you will have to die and the most painful of all is I will be the one to kill you."

  Behind the vase, Ken clenched his fist as his gritted is teeth. His heart almost gave away and he suddenly felt weak. He loved her, Valerie, yes, her... He loved her.

  Just then the Thompson rang out again. From behind the vase, in a moment of anger and love, Ken stood and charged at Jake, holding two knives but he was mile and miles away.

  Several guns rattled, burying bullets in his body. He gritted his teeth, falling on both knees. The knives he was holding fell with a clatter. Another shot rang out. He fell to the ground, motionless. Jake walked over to Ken's body and regarded it for some time, then turned to his mob.

  "Tell Hector he's dead and arrange to collect the payment." He said to no one in particular.

  From the men, the man who Ken had seen smoking with a pistol on his bench came out and started towards the bar.

  The rest of the men dispersed and left the three dead bodies, surrounded by several others, lying.

  Soon, the yard was almost empty, and the last of the men were leaving. One of them started back into the yard. It was the kid. He went over to where Ken's body lay. Something in his hand glistened in the dark. It was a knife. Crouching beside the corpse, he began stabbing it wildly, screaming.

  THE MAFIOSO’S DAUGHTER

  Diary of a safe breaker

 

  I had known Sheila for about two years when it happened. I didn’t know what to make of it and I don’t know what you are going to make of it either, but this is the story.

 

  My name is Daniel Sherman. Until eight months ago, I had been a safe breaker. Yes, I’m a thief and I do my work in two phases. First, I visit you and moving quietly in the dark I drug you in your sleep (except of course you offer resistance, then I’ll tap you) then, taking my time, I take your room to pieces until I find your safe, then I’ll leave. You can squeal to the cops if you like; that has never stopped me. In the second phase, I do same thing I did on my first visit, except of course tear your room to pieces because I very well know where your safe is now. This time also, I will not only stop at finding your safe, but I’ll make sure break into and steal from it. Mind you, the cops have nothing on me. I’m clean; no prints, mug shots, nothing at all.

 

  Many people have hired my services and they’d paid me very well. However, like the others, I didn’t stay long. On night, Rupert visited me. Now Rupert, was the most popular underground agent, I don’t know if he still is, I’ll no longer in the racket anymore. In case you don’t understand, this is what Rupert did: He sniffed around for jobs or potential jobs then tell the ‘clients’ he knew someone who could pull the job off. Assured with the promise of getting a certain part of the money, he would introduce the person he found to the ‘client’. If the job went well, he would get the part promised him and everyone goes satisfied.

 

  That night however, I did something I was never known to do. Now this is it ; I never turn down jobs, no matter how dangerous or degrading it is. But that night, I turned down Rupert’s request. He told me my services were required by a Mafioso. I never do mafia dirt. I rather they have their men do it. I refused and before I knew what was actually going on, the mafia began after me and that is how I found myself on the run.

 

  I bought an old Buick and started up north. After driving for two days, I arrived at a rural town, one evening. I headed for a bar and bought a drink. A band was playing as the girls tried to mingle with the customers. The customers, most of whom were men, ogled at the long , straight legs and got used as meal tickets by the girls. As for me, I was too tired to even bother. I bought my drink, sat at the counter and watched others at the tables order while I drank. That was when Sheila came in, smiled at everyone, then started towards me. Every man in the room turned to give me the most frightening glare I had ever seen. I tried giving back each of them same glare. She came up to me, then took a stool at the counter, some distance away from me. I immediately felt a bit disappointed, realizing that she had only come to the counter to get a drink. All the deadly glares also went away.

 

  “Some face you’re putting up there.” The waiter mouthed at her as he served her the drink. She sniffed, ignoring him as she took a seat at the counter. Taking a closer look at her, I realized she couldn’t be more than twenty, her face laced with deep worry. Her drink arrived and she swigged it down as soon as it had arrived, bent on getting drunk. More and more drinks came and had same fate. After awhile, she sat still, head bent, both palms pushing down on each side of her stool. Her breath came and went quickly.

 

  “Hey babe. What’s wrong with you today? “, the waiter tried. She ignored him. He tried a few more lines before giving up and going back to his work.

 

  That was when I decided to try. I tilted my body towards her but before I could talk, she got down and started out of the bar. As much as I had wanted following her out then, I gave her exactly eight seconds before running out of the bar, putting my money on the counter beside my drink.

 

  It was dark on the street already. I looked left and right, then saw her hurriedly staggering up the street. I ran after her.

 

  “Hey stop.” I shouted.

 

  She turned to look at me.

 

  “Do you have money? “ She asked. Her breath stank and I could smell her perfume; nothing to waste brain cells on.

 

  “I don’t get you.” I said, puzzled.

 

  “You stop me and you say you don’t get me? Go away or I’ll scream and you’ll find yourself getting a free ride in a patrol vehicle.”

 

  Then I understood. She was a hooker. She was probably sour with no customers, or so I thought.

 

  “I doubt the cops would give a free ride to a whore.” Ken said.

 

  She grim
aced, then he quickly added.

 

  “I could give you some money, but we don’t have to do anything.”

 

  I took out my wallet, counted some bills and handed them over to her. She snatched them out of my hands and stuffed them into her bra.

 

  “Thank you.” She smiled weakly, then passed out.

 

  I ended up taking her to my hotel room that night. The bellhop was more than willing to help me take her upstairs. In fact, he had asked me to let him take her all the way up all by himself. That night, I slept on a chair in the room. In the morning after she woke up, we talked (actually, it was more of me asking her questions) and I got to know a lot about her. The first was that she was pregnant and second, as I had guessed the night before, she was a call girl. She had discovered she was pregnant and the news had hit her real hard. I didn’t tell her anything about myself.

 

  That was how we knew each other. Every evening I would visit her and we would talk till it was late, then I would leave. This went on till she put to bed. It was a girl. I loved that child very much. I can still remember how she giggled and as I tickled her, although Sheila would interrupt, with a growl, stopping the fun and taking her away. She still went out on her calls and sometimes I watched the baby for her. This went on for two years. Then some odd things began to happened. From time to time angry men call to ask for her and one of them really stood out. He a small creepy soprano voice and would always leave strange messages. I asked her if all was well and she always said yes.

 

  Sheila was out on one of her calls and I was watching her baby. Suddenly, the door burst open. I expected to see someone, at least Sheila, barge in, but no one barged in. After a while, I saw Sheila stroll into the room, holding a pistol pointed towards me.

 

  “I know all about you.” She said and I froze.

 

  My mouth went dry as looked into the bore of the gun. What exactly did she know ? I wondered.

 

  “Sheila, your baby.” I whispered.