Jeff Abbott - Cut and Run

Eve waited around the club Thursday morning and into the early afternoon for Paul, wondering why the lunch-time crowd wanted to ogle strippers while chewing on overpriced sandwiches and then head back to work with an unrelieved erection. She went back up to Frank’s office shortly after one and Paul was sitting behind Frank’s desk, feet propped up on Frank’s papers.

‘Well, hi,’ she said. ‘Been looking for you, honey.’

‘Where’s Frank?’

‘At lunch. With a liquor rep. I’ve been trying to reach you.’

‘So you and Bucks,’ Paul said, ‘had a little spat.’

‘You got my messages.’

‘Yes. I talked with him this morning.’

‘And?’

‘He says you misinterpreted his actions.’

‘I misinterpreted him going for his gun,’ Eve said. ‘What, he wanted to show me a monogrammed clip?’ She pulled the scarf from her throat. ‘You see the bruise. He tried to cut off the blood to my brain. He’s nuts.’

‘You know, I’m under a lot of pressure,’ Paul said, although he looked as relaxed as a cat fresh from a dinner bowl. ‘You and Bucks, being the people in the world I trust the most, don’t need to be snarling at each other.’

She didn’t like the smile on his face, not at all. Too calm. Too sure of himself. And this trust the most crap, she didn’t believe it. ‘If I misinterpreted him, then I’m sorry, but do you think what he did was right?’

He ignored her question. ‘Have you got the cash ready for the transfer to Kiko?’

‘Yes. Richard Doyle from Coastal United Bank is meeting us at the Alvarez office, over by the port this afternoon.’

‘Fine. You can go with Bucks.’

‘Okay,’ she said.

‘It’s amazing how much disapproval you can pack into one word, Eve.’

‘Kiko Grace will gut you from stem to stern if he gets a chance and you’re dead if you forget it.’

‘He’s afraid of me.’

‘You got the transfer set up with Kiko, or is he too scared of you to meet?’ she asked.

‘Bucks and a couple of boys will take the money to wherever Kiko’s got the stash and we do the exchange. The dust is hidden in decorative pottery. They’ll truck it out to a safe place east of town. Have a little pot-smashing party later.’

At least Paul had the sense not to go to the exchange himself, he’d learned that much from his father. ‘When?’

‘Tonight. I want to get that coke on the street.’ He laughed. ‘Lots of depression in Houston these days, everybody needs a little pick-me-up. Even you and Frank. Hey, sit down for a minute,’ he said.

She sat.

‘Frank,’ Paul said. ‘How’s he doing?’

‘Fine.’

‘He spending a lot of money lately?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘Because,’ Paul said, ‘we’re missing serious funds from Club Topaz.’

She let five seconds pass. ‘Frank’s not a skimmer.’ A little panicky thrum quickened between her ribs. Surely Frank wasn’t that stupid.

‘Because he doesn’t have the brains for it?’

‘Frank’s not dumb.’

‘Be honest with me, Eve.’

‘I don’t know anything about him skimming money,’ she said.

‘A little here and there’s okay. A perk of the job. At least my dad viewed it that way.’ Paul leaned back in his chair, laced his fingers together on the flat of his silk shirt. ‘What I don’t like is the idea of Frank taking advantage of my dad being stuck at death’s door and helping himself because it’s easier.’

‘Frank’s not a thief.’

‘I spent the evening checking the books against the receipts, and Frank’s had his hand, no, Eve, his fucking arm, deep in the till.’ He’d gone from easygoing calm to screaming, his face red, spit flying from his lips.

This was why Paul didn’t give a crap what Bucks had done to her. Her heart filled her throat, her mouth.

‘You want me to talk to Frank for you?’ She prayed he’d say yes, let her handle it, get the money back, not send the muscle pounding down on Frank. ‘You know Frank, he doesn’t know numbers, he probably entered a few figures wrong in a spreadsheet. He’s not the brightest star in the sky.’

Paul dragged his sleeve across his lips. ‘Yeah. You talk to Frank. Because I don’t want to smash Frank’s face in. He brings in the celebs. Without Frank’s touch we’re just another high-end titty bar. The staying power of minor celebrity never fails to amaze.’ He smiled, a cold one like his father used. ‘If he’s having money problems, he should let me know; I’ll take care of him.’ Paul’s voice was now gentle, steady. It scared Eve.

‘Of course, Paul. There’s a reasonable explanation…’

‘I have to be able to trust him, Eve. If I can’t trust him… if I can’t trust you…’ He let the words fade into the quiet. ‘Then I have to take corrective measures, regardless of my affection for you or Frank.’

Corrective measures. Tommy’s old code words for a hit. Dizziness spun through her head at the idea of Paul ordering her and Frank killed. She thought of Ricky Marino, his body thrashed into shreds by a chain. She didn’t know for sure that Paul had done it. But people had whispered: Yeah he sure had, whooping and screaming and making a tantrum into a gut-wrenching kill that ended up discrediting his father and destroying their organization in Detroit.

‘I’ll make good on anything Frank’s done,’ she said in a rush. ‘And if I pay it back and you’re still mad at him, then let us go back to Detroit.’

‘Wow.’ Paul gave a soft laugh. ‘I haven’t even shown you proof of Frank’s skimming. You sure seem ready to believe he’d do it.’

After a moment she said, ‘Well, you wouldn’t accuse him without good reason.’

‘Finally you show faith in me,’ he said.

‘Of course I have faith in you, honey. Always.’

‘You want to see the proof?’

‘Yes.’

He handed her a CD. ‘Destroy it when you’re done,’ he said. ‘One file shows the charges actually made on client cards. The other shows the nightly revenues. There’s a big shortfall.’

‘I’ll check it carefully. If it’s him you’ll get your money back and an apology. And he’ll work for free, no salary, for six months. He’ll show you respect, Paul, I promise.’

‘Frank’s stealing from me, from my dying father, and you, you want to lecture me on how Bucks behaves and what deals I enter into.’

‘I’m not lecturing you,’ she said. ‘God forbid. So who found out Frank was skimming?’

‘Doesn’t matter.’

He got up from behind Frank’s desk and she stayed still as he walked behind her chair. After a moment he put his hands, thick-fingered, on her shoulders. ‘I know you returned money to my dad years ago A big load of cash he otherwise would have lost. So I’m giving you fair warning. You clean Frank’s nose. You get the money back he stole. And you and Frank keep breathing. Understand?’

‘Yes,’ she said. The pressure from his hands tightened on her shoulders, her collarbone. His thumbs rubbed the sides of her neck, tickled them slightly. Avoiding the bruise Bucks had left.

‘I forgive once, Eve. Not twice.’

‘Thank you, Paul,’ she said. ‘I’ll fix it. How much does he owe you?’

‘About ninety thousand,’ he said. The pressure on her throat increased.

She said nothing. It could be worse. She could call Detroit, talk to a couple of old friends, get a loan. Frank, the idiot, what had possessed him? ‘I’ll fix it,’ she said again. ‘Please, let me talk to him first? I’ll straighten this out.’

Paul Bellini eased the pressure of his hands, slowly turned the chair so she faced him. Leaned down close to her. ‘Frank steals from me or my father again, I’m gonna take him to a doctor I own in Arizona. I’ll have his tongue removed. No anesthetic. Then his mouth surgically sewn shut. I’ll let him starve like that for weeks and then I’ll take a chain to him and put him out of his misery.’