Scott Soloff - Three strikes

Burger lifts his head ever so slightly. "Why's that?"

Connor snorts. "Because I'm going to take care of you myself." What is wrong with my brother?

"Yeah, we'll see about that. Move, both of you."

Burger herded us to the back room; up the staircase and onto the roof.

Picture this: The Sport's Emporium is in the middle of the block of continuous stores on South Broad Street. Therefore, all of the roofs are connected. The length from front to back is thirty feet. Width runs twenty feet. Located equidistant from the front and rear is the door to the roof. An alley runs behind the store. Empty buildings in the process of rehab back the stores fronting on Broad.

Burger positions Connor and me at the rear of the roof with our backs towards the alley. LB is standing very close to the edge of the roof with his back towards Broad Street. His right arm is extended straight out holding a Smith amp; Wesson Model 29.

"No more talk." Burger is so far away that I can hardly hear what he said. Doesn't matter. The gun in his hand could easily make the shot. Made famous by 'Dirty Harry', the Model 29 is a six shot revolver chambered for the. 44 Magnum cartridge. This one had a barrel length of 10 5/8".

Now here's the thing: Lactic acid is building up and causing fatigue in Burger's right arm, even with arms like ham hocks. That gun weighs just over three pounds; and that's empty. He's moving that pistol from left to right, alternating between me and Connor.

I heard the monster's nails scratch the tar paper when he walked through the door to the roof.

Burger pointed that canon at my head. I wouldn't believe what happened next if I didn't witness it with my own eyes. Kato, who is a full twenty feet away, took a running start of two steps. I don't know if he's the bionic six million dollar dog or a mystic temple creature from the Far East.

But what I do know is that he defied the law of physics and launched himself nearly twenty feet through the air. By the time Leon changed the degree of his shooting arm Kato had struck him square in the chest with his massive front paws.

To this day I can still hear the screams of Leon Burger as he fell three stories from the roof to meet his earthly demise.

Connor lifted his hands and shrugged his shoulders. "C'est la vie."

"I was wrong brother. Sorry I didn't let you bring a gun."

"No worries. Let's boogie."

Connor left for London the morning following the Burger affair. I stuck around to clean up a few loose ends.

Oddly, there was no blow back from Leon's 'accident'. The Philadelphia Inquirer led with the headline "Sports Memorabilia Dealer Plummets To Death". No mention in the article about the gun in his hand.

After Kato knocked that bastard off the roof he pivoted a full 180 degrees in mid-air, hit the ground running, threw his paws on my chest and gave me a whopping kiss. I didn't tell him to get down.

Making a quick exit from the Emporium, we grabbed the briefcase with a million bucks and the Honus Wagner.

The following morning I made my way down to Bainbridge Street. Amy was grateful to get the valuable baseball card. She listened to the entire tale of mayhem and greed. After, she sobbed for what seemed an eternity. Asked how she could repay me, I said, "Cover our expenses. No rush, wait until the card is sold."

We stuck around one more day to attend the funeral. There was a nice turnout, Hari was well liked.

TJ would take care of Kato and the house while we were gone. The next morning we boarded a plane at JFK for London. With Connor picking up the tab we flew first class.

We landed at Heathrow.

Connor is waiting at the luggage area decked out in a hand tailored suit; sporting a chauffer's cap. A cardboard sign with Picker written in black marker. Reminiscent of our first meeting.

Kelly gave him a peck on the cheek. The first words out of here mouth were, "Exactly what do you need Picker for?"

"We going to take an evil man for every penny that he's worth. Then we're going to destroy his life."