Чарли Стелла - Johnny Porno

Her eyes opened wide as she fell back against the pantry wall. Billy stepped inside and closed the front door behind him. The woman was spitting blood. Billy looked into the kitchen but didn’t see anyone. The woman grabbed at his leg.

“Sorry, hon,” he said before squatting down to cover her nose and mouth. Her body jerked, but Billy’s eyes remained glued to the open area in the kitchen. A full minute passed before she stopped moving. Billy continued to cut off her air another thirty seconds, then pulled the Walther from the gym bag and made his way through the house.

He found the note on the kitchen table on his way back to the front door.

Jill,

Sorry, I had to leave. Make yourself at home. There’s leftover Chinese in the fridge. Talk to you later.

“Who’s Mel?” Billy said. “What’s your name, hon, and where the hell’d you go?”

Then he saw the other piece of paper taped to the refrigerator. A list of names and phone numbers in different handwriting:

John: 241-6331

John’s Ex: 696-2001

John’s Mom: 696-4891

Billy reached for the phone hanging on the wall. “Let’s not call and ruin the surprise,” he said, lowering his arm. “But let’s do go visit Mom.”

“No, you won’t pay them,” John told his mother over the phone. “I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop me,” Marie Albano said. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you or my grandson. These people are animals and I don’t know why you bothered with them in the first place, you could’ve come to me if you needed money, but now that they’re coming to my door, I’m going to pay them and that’s it.”

“What do you mean they came to your door?”

“This morning, a little while ago, a tall guy with red hair. He had a badge, but I don’t think he was a cop.”

“What did he want? What did he say?”

“He wanted to know where you were and when I told him I didn’t know he said to give you a message to go see the guy from Brooklyn. Then he asked if Little Jack was home.”

“He knew Jack’s name?”

“No, he said grandson. He asked if my grandson was home with me.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’m paying them whatever you owe.”

“I don’t owe them a thing, Ma. I was robbed yesterday. The guy who stole the money owes it.”

“Well, then they’ll get their money because I’m not taking any chances with loved ones. Good-bye.”

“Ma!”

It was too late, his mother had hung up.

“God damn it!” John yelled.

Melinda had been listening alongside him at the pay phone. “They went to your mother?”

“They sent somebody to scare her and it worked.”

“You can’t blame her for being scared.”

“I know that. Obviously they do, too.”

“This is getting out of control.”

John motioned toward the car. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?”

“My mother’s.”

“What if they’re watching?”

“Then they’ll see me.”

She stopped before getting in. John slid behind the steering wheel. He put the key in the ignition and started the engine, then turned to Melinda as she got in.

“It’ll be okay,” he said.

Bridget Malone was extra nervous today. Two nights ago she’d nearly been killed by somebody Special Agent Stebenow insisted had been hired by the red-haired cop on Eddie Vento’s payroll. She had assumed the government would bring her in off the streets, but they hadn’t. Stebenow said her life was still in danger and that she should stay with him, but Bridget knew her only real freedom would come when she gave them something to convict Eddie Vento with. After spending the night wondering what to do, she decided to give it one last try.

She’d returned to the bar the following day and was lucky to learn Eddie had spent the night with his wife. Then when he turned up early this morning, she was in the shower when he yelled at her to hurry because he wanted to get laid.

Concerned he might want to fuck as soon as he saw her, she was forced to remove the recording device she had taped to her right thigh. She wrapped it with a pair of black panties and stuffed them in the hamper.

Vento said he needed to use the bathroom when she came out. Bridget used the opportunity to move the backup recorder from the bottom drawer of a night table in her bedroom to under the couch in her living room. Then she removed her clothes to expedite their sex and Vento made her put on high heels when he was ready. He made it rough, bending her over the arm of the couch and not bothering to use a lubricant. He insisted she remain naked but continue wearing the heels afterward.

She used the bathroom again, making sure to flush while she checked the hamper to make sure he hadn’t discovered the tape. Then she plugged herself with a tuft of tissue and returned to the living room. Vento was on the couch. He had lit a cigar and had his feet up on the coffee table. He made her stand in front of him while he peppered her with questions about where she had been the night before.

“Out,” she said. “Why?”

“Because I called and you didn’t answer,” he said.

“So? Where were you? With wifey?”

“That’s my fuckin’ business where I was.”

Bridget set her hands on her hips. “So?” she said.

“You fucking somebody?”

“Besides you, no.”

“You sure?”

“Are you serious?”

“Extremely.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Unless you are and I don’t know about it.”

“I’m not fucking anybody, Eddie. Jesus.”

Vento stared at her until she was nervous enough to smile. “What?” she said.

He didn’t answer. He got up off the couch to use the bathroom again.

Bridget noticed a wire under the couch skirt and quickly dropped to the floor to hide it. She heard the toilet flush and stood up. The tissue plug she’d used dropped to the floor without her noticing. She quickly moved to the windows and adjusted the air-conditioning from high to medium as the bathroom door opened.

“You got any coffee?” Vento said.

“I can make some.”

“Make it then. I need to stay awake.”

“Sleepy, baby?”

“Fuck tired’s more like it. The hell is that?”

Bridget stopped midway to the kitchen and turned around. Vento was pointing to the tissue plug on the floor.

“Oh,” she said. “That’s me.”

“You?”

Bridget went to the tissue and picked it up. “Actually it’s you,” she said. “It must’ve fell out.”

Vento still didn’t get it. Then he looked to where she was pointing and saw his milky liquid had run partway down the inside of her right thigh.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Take a shower.”

Bridget wiped her leg and proceeded to the kitchen. “After I make the coffee,” she said. “Takes two minutes.”

“Shower first, for Christ’s sake,” Vento said.

The telephone rang. Bridget picked up in the kitchen.

“It’s me,” someone said.

Bridget remained silent.

“Eddie?”

Bridget recognized the voice. It was Mister Horse. “It’s for you,” she told Vento.

He shooed her out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she heard him say.

Bridget removed her heels and hustled into the bedroom where she could listen in on the other phone. She slowly, carefully released the receiver and put it to her right ear.

“Where?” Eddie said.

“The mother’s house in Queens.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Kid’s there, too.”

“Albano?”

“Not that I could tell. I don’t think so, but he’ll probably be there soon enough now I scared her.”