Charlie Hustmyre - House of the Rising Sun

Ray shrugged. “I don’t know.” But that out-of-focus thing that had been tugging at him was getting clearer by the second.

“Then it’s just a coincidence,” LaGrange said.

“Maybe.”

“Then why don’t you tell the Eye-talians about it?”

“I doubt they believe in coincidences either,” Ray said. “I’d end up hanging from a meat hook.”

“You were a good cop, Ray, so think about it. What do you figure the odds are that two guys you arrested several years ago would get together with two other assholes and pull a job at the place where you work, just when you happen to be standing at the front door, which is somewhere you normally can’t even be found?”

Suddenly Ray had a headache. He pressed his fingers against his temples, feeling the need for a cigarette. “I don’t know.”

“What do you think? ” LaGrange insisted.

Head throbbing, Ray turned the possibilities over in his mind but couldn’t come up with an answer that made sense. There was only one thing he was sure about. “I still don’t believe in coincidences.”

Tony barged into Vinnie’s office.

Vinnie sat behind his desk, the telephone stuck in his ear. He glared at Tony. “You ever hear of knocking?”

Tony stopped halfway between the door and Vinnie’s desk, feeling like a kid caught with a girlie magazine. “You want me to go back outside and knock?”

Vinnie gave him a look, one that was supposed to be intimidating, but it looked more stupid than scary, kind of like he had just bitten into a lemon. After a couple seconds of the lemon look, Vinnie waved to a chair. “Much use as you are, I should put you back out on the street collecting the vig.”

Vinnie spent the next fifteen minutes on the phone. Tony knew his boss was dragging it out to make him wait, the last five minutes talking about where’s the best place to get authentic southern Italian food. Finally, Vinnie hung up. He squeezed his forehead like he was fighting a migraine.

Tony said, “What’s going on?”

“Shit, that’s what’s going on, nothing but shit.” He pointed to the phone. “Motherfucker right there. That guy uptown. The one who’s got some of our video poker machines in his place… what’s his fucking name?”

“You talking about George?”

“George, that’s it. I’m talking to him for an hour, I can’t remember his name. Anyway, George’s brother got arrested last night for banging a sixteen-year-old.”

“How old is his brother?”

“How do I know how old his brother is? I don’t even know how old George is.”

“I mean, is his brother a kid?”

Vinnie shook his head. “No, he’s a grown man. George said his brother has got a teenage kid himself.” Vinnie leaned back in his chair. “What a fucking pervert.”

“Boy or a girl?”

“What?”

“Was George’s brother screwing a teenage girl, or was he screwing a boy?”

Vinnie shook his head. “What difference does it make?”

“Some of these girls,” Tony said, “they can doll themselves up to look a lot older than they are. I could see how the guy might have got himself into a situation.”

“Are you some kind of perv, too?”

“I’m just saying… What does he want anyway?”

“What do you think? For me to get his brother out of jail.”

“Why does he think you can get his brother out on a sex beef? That shit hits the newspaper, forget about it.”

“These guys, they seen too many movies. They think we got more power than we actually do. I had the power everybody thinks I got, I’d get shit done just like that.” Vinnie snapped his fingers.

“So what are you going to do?”

Vinnie shrugged. “I don’t know. The poker machines in George’s place, they’re worth a grand a week. I got to make it look like I’m doing something just to keep him happy.”

“Like what?”

Vinnie waved his hand in the air. “I don’t know. I’ll come up with something. Tell me about Ray Shane, what’s he found out?”

This is what Tony had been waiting for. He didn’t give a shit about George or his pervert brother, didn’t care if he had gotten caught with a girl, a boy, or a dog. Ray Shane and the robbery were what concerned him. Vinnie was funny, though. Tony had to let him think things were his idea.

“Nothing is going on with Shane,” Tony said.

“What do you mean, nothing?”

“He’s been looking for Hector for three days. I told him don’t worry about it. I already found him, took me fifteen minutes.”

“You fucked that up.”

Tony nodded. “What was I supposed to do, let him get away?”

Vinnie pounded his fist on the desk. “Catch him and bring him back, not kill him.”

“I can’t bring back the dead.”

Vinnie pointed a fat finger at Tony. “You’re the one made him dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

Vinnie Messina let out a long breath. “What’s Shane come up with?”

“Nothing.”

“Why not?”

Seeing an opening, Tony said, “I got a funny feeling about Shane.”

“What kind of funny feeling?”

“I don’t think he was trying all that hard to find Hector.”

“Why?” Vinnie said.

“I don’t know. Either he’s stupid, or else…”

“Or else what?” An edge of suspicion had crept into Vinnie’s voice.

Tony just shrugged, but inside he was smiling. “You ever seen Shane working the door before?”

“He was covering for Hector.”

“So he says.”

“You don’t believe him?”

Tony raised his hands in the air. “It’s just strange, that’s all. Him being there, claiming he was covering for Hector, then the shit goes down and all of a sudden our boy Hector turns into Harry Houdini.”

Vinnie glared at him. “Yeah, it sure is strange. Too bad we can’t talk to Hector.”

They were getting sidetracked. Tony had to get the focus back on Shane. “That little pimply faced bastard had to have a reason for wanting to hide out. You only run if someone is chasing you, so if everything was on the up-and-up and happened just the way Shane said, then why was Hector hiding, and why did he try to ditch out the back door when I found him?”

“Scared, I guess,” Vinnie said.

“Scared of what? Think about it, he’s the doorman and he needs to take a leak, but he doesn’t abandon his post, he gets someone to cover it for him. And knowing how important the front door is, he doesn’t get just anybody, he gets the security man to cover for him, but while he’s in the can, the place gets hit. Still, if that’s exactly the way it happened, he didn’t do anything wrong. So why’s he so scared?”

Vinnie’s face was tight. “What are you saying?”

Tony eyed his boss carefully, studying his expression, seeing him warming to the idea that maybe Shane had something to do with it. Time to switch sides, let Vinnie come up with the rest of it by himself. “Then again, maybe Shane’s right, maybe it’s just a big coincidence.”

“A coincidence that Shane was on the door when it happened?”

Tony nodded.

Vinnie shook his head. “I don’t believe in coincidences.” The old guy was slow, but if you nudged him in the right direction, he usually caught on. Tony frowned like he didn’t understand. “What are you saying?”

Vinnie rubbed a hand across his face. “Keep an eye on Shane. If he takes one step you think is out of line, I want you to bring him in.”

Tony nodded. “You got it.”

For five hours Ray Shane sat in his car watching the door to Dylan Sylvester’s apartment on Clouet Street, smoking cigarettes and drinking. Just coffee at first, then spiking it with a little Jameson as the hours wore on. The apartment was the last known address listed on Sylvester’s rap sheet.