Джон Краули - New Haven Noir

Jimmy’s temper flared when the man brazenly placed both of his hands on Annabelle’s hips. “The lady said she doesn’t know you, buddy. Comprende? So do yourself a favor and back off.”

The trucker’s gold tooth shone bright as a star in the dark. “She knows me all right. She enjoyed nine inches of me the other night. Didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“That’s enough, you goddamn son of a bitch.” Pushing Annabelle aside, Jimmy began to beat the man. He didn’t stop until the trucker looked like a piece of raw veal.

“Come on, Jimmy. Let’s go before the police get here,” Annabelle urged. She began to reach for his hands before realizing they were covered with blood. “Oh, dear. Are your hands all right? Are they hurt?”

He quickly pulled them away. “Don’t worry. I’m fine. I’ve dealt with tougher guys before. Your friend got the worst of it. I think he’s going to be needing another gold tooth.”

Annabelle grew quiet but she’d never been so turned on in her life. Jimmy Carbonara was a lethal weapon and he was all hers.

“Is what that guy said about you back there true? Did you sleep with him?” he angrily demanded as they headed for his store.

Annabelle’s eyes welled up with tears. “No, of course not. How can you even ask that? I’ve never seen him before in my life.”

Jimmy felt like dirt for having questioned her.

“You’re my hero, Jimmy,” she said while straddling him in bed later that night. “You’re my big, strong protector.”

He cupped her buttocks in his hands and gazed at the swell of her breasts in the moonlight. Jimmy wished she hadn’t made him turn off the lamps. She was probably self-conscious but she’d have to get over that. Annabelle had a terrific body from what he could tell, and he wanted to see every inch of it. So what if she was no spring chicken? Neither was he. How had he gotten so lucky? “I’d do anything for you, Annabelle. You know that.”

“Would you? Would you really? I’ve been hurt so many times, Jimmy. Promise you’ll always protect me and won’t let anyone hurt me anymore.” Leaning over, she kissed him lightly on the lips.

“I swear it,” he said, and meant it.

Annabelle didn’t show up at his store the next day or the day after that and Jimmy started to worry. What had happened? Had he done something wrong? He stopped by the theater and was shown to her dressing room, where a woman could be heard crying inside.

“Annabelle, is that you? Is everything all right?”

Her eyes were red and swollen when she opened the door.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. Stepping inside, he closed the door behind him.

Annabelle’s bottom lip quivered and her breath caught sharp. “Oh, Jimmy. It’s the director. He’s firing me.”

“What do you mean he’s firing you? What’s he doing that for?”

She placed her head on his chest and he thought for sure that his heart would break.

“Another actress wants the role. She’s a friend of his so he’s letting me go and giving the part to her.”

Lisa Larson was to be her replacement. The woman was the bane of her existence. She’d been making Annabelle’s life a living hell for years. Every role that Annabelle lost seemed to go to her.

“Can he really do that to you?”

Annabelle nodded. “The director can do whatever he wants. This role was supposed to be my big break. What’s going to happen to me now?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll take care of you, but it still doesn’t seem right. How about I speak to him for you?” The guy needed to be taught a lesson. Jimmy’s sore knuckles throbbed at the thought. “Maybe I can talk some sense into him. You know, make him see things my way.”

Annabelle’s head lolled on her neck, seeming as weak as a baby bird’s. “No, that wouldn’t end well for either of us. It might even get me blackballed. Besides, Lisa Larson is the real problem. If only there was some way to get rid of her. She’s coming by the theater later tonight. She wants to talk to me about the role.” Annabelle dropped her head in her hands and began to sob harder.

Jimmy couldn’t bear to see her cry. Something had to be done. Hadn’t he taken a solemn vow not to let anyone hurt her? “How about if I put a little scare into her? I bet then she wouldn’t want to stay and you’d get to keep your job.”

Annabelle raised her head and smiled wanly. “Would you really do that for me?”

He gently wiped away her tears. “You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

She pressed herself against him until he could feel every muscle inside her move. “You know that I am, Jimmy.”

“Then stop your crying. I’ll take care of this for you.”

Annabelle plucked a tissue from its box and blew her nose. “How? What are you going to do?”

“You leave that part to me. Just make sure you bring her out the back door of the theater tonight. Say you want to take her for a drink or something. It’ll be dark. I’ll wear a mask and rough her up a little bit. Just enough to put the fear of death in her.”

“And what about me? What do I do?”

“You don’t do anything except maybe pretend to be afraid and run away. Just don’t attract attention or scream.”

Annabelle spent the rest of the day preparing for her role that night. She wanted to be ready when her rival arrived and the proverbial curtain went up. She was seething by the time the actress swept into the dressing room.

Lisa Larson’s toned body and tight skin were part and parcel of her successful career and only helped fuel Annabelle’s rage. The woman could afford to hire a personal trainer and plastic surgeon with all the money she made. Even so, the wrinkles around her neck were like the rings on a tree. They gave away her age. The bitch had to be at least fifty years old.

“Oh, poor Annabelle. I feel so bad for you. But you know how Billy can be when it comes to this sort of thing. He prefers to work with actors who he already knows.”

Annabelle wasn’t fooled by Lisa Larson’s sad face. She saw the scorn flickering beneath her mask of concern and, for once, she remembered her lines perfectly.

“Don’t worry, Lisa. There are no hard feelings. I know it isn’t your fault. That’s why I came here tonight. Can we go discuss it over drinks?”

Lisa Larson breathed an audible sigh of relief. “That’s a wonderful idea. Maybe I can get them to hire you as my understudy. Let’s keep our fingers crossed.”

She cast a questioning glance as Annabelle slipped on a man’s jacket and a pair of large gloves. A rubber band around each wrist held them in place. “I’m not used to this weather and my fingers get cold,” she explained.

She had rehearsed the next step at least a dozen times in her mind. Everything would be fine as long as Jimmy was on time and didn’t miss his cue. Annabelle made sure no one was around as she led Lisa Larson through the bowels of the theater and out the rear door.

“Why don’t we go back inside and use the front entrance?” Lisa said nervously when a man in a ski mask appeared.

Annabelle didn’t respond but pulled a blackjack from her pocket and mustered all her strength. The club slammed into Lisa Larson’s skull with a resounding thud. Had it been a baseball, she would have hit a home run. Lisa Larson’s legs folded beneath her and she fell to the ground like an unstrung marionette.

Jimmy stared in disbelief as the woman’s head bounced twice on the pavement. “What in the hell did you do that for?” A puddle of fluid formed at his feet.

“I was afraid she was going to scream.”

Jimmy kneeled beside the body and felt for a pulse. “Jesus Christ! You bashed in her skull. She’s dead!”

“I was only thinking of you, Jimmy. I didn’t want you to get caught.”