Robert Ferrigno - Prayers for the assassin

“I love her, Mr. Hennesy. The men who took pinking shears to you…what do you think they’ll do to Sarah if they find her?”

“That ain’t none of my business.”

Rakkim shook his head. “It may not be your business, but you took it on. That’s the kind of man you are. You’re not the only one who can see things about people.”

Hennesy toyed with an unopened bag of pistachio nuts on the table. “She gave me these. Told me her name was Rachel, but I knew better. She was a runaway. She just had that look. Fierce. My granddaughter left her husband a few years ago. Took her two kids and ran.” He sipped the coffee. “I can’t eat nuts…they play holy hell with my digestion, but I appreciated her kindness.”

Rakkim let him talk.

“I played dumb with the other ones. Told them my hearing was shot, but I got good ears.” Hennesy touched the ragged cartilage again. “I know the footsteps of everybody in this building. I can close my eyes and tell if they belong here. Sometimes I wish I didn’t hear so good.” His voice cracked. “I heard them come up the stairs a couple of nights ago…three of them. Two of them left a while later, but one stayed, hiding out in the hall. After that…” He shook his head. “After that, I heard things I’d like to forget.” He glared at Rakkim. “She killed that man, that bounty hunter, but he deserved it. I had my ear pressed against the wall and I heard every word.” His eyes shimmered. “That could have been my granddaughter, and I just stood there listening.”

“Was she hurt?”

“I heard her fighting back. I heard her, and I didn’t do a thing.”

“Was she injured, Mr. Hennesy?”

“I didn’t see any blood on her.” Hennesy looked at his hands. “I didn’t used to be such a coward. I was wounded at the Battle of Chicago. Supposed to be the turning point of the war, but don’t ask me. All I know is I played dead for two days on Illinois Avenue with a bullet in my guts. Peckerwoods walking all over, shooting the wounded. I was young then, it was easy to be brave. Now, I ain’t worth shit.”

Rakkim covered the man’s hand with his own. Hennesy’s skin was like wax paper. “How did you know she wasn’t hurt?”

“I saw her walk past my door. She was in a hurry too. Who could blame her?”

“Yes, but how could you see that there was no blood on her? Walking past your peephole…hurrying?”

Hennesy kept silent.

“Maybe this is your time to be brave. Maybe you’re getting a second chance.”

“I followed her,” Hennesy said at last. “I followed her when she left. I can be quiet when I want to. You get old, nobody notices you anyway.”

“Where did she go?”

“Monorail.” Hennesy said quickly, eager to get it out before he could second-guess himself. Redbeard always said the hardest bit of information to extract was the first piece. “She was traveling light. Walking like she was going somewhere too. Never looked behind her once. As if she didn’t care anymore or maybe she was afraid to look. I almost lost her in the crowd at the monorail station. I got into the next car just as the door closed. Always been lucky that way. I know how that sounds, but it’s the truth. There was one time-”

“What stop did she get off at?”

“Yeah, just the facts, right?”

Rakkim met his gaze. “Right.”

“That’s okay. I’m glad you’re not trying to bullshit me.” Hennesy pulled at his nose. “She got off at Orion Street, and I got off too. Edge of the Zone. Funny place to run to.”

“Where did she go in the Zone?” Rakkim already knew the answer, but he had to ask.

“Some nightclub. Bright lights and loud music…I used to be quite a dancer when I was young. Trying to remember the name. Blue Moon, that’s it. There used to be a song called that. My father sang it to my mother when I was a boy. Long time…what’s the matter with you?”

“Did you follow her inside?”

“She didn’t stay long. I saw her get into a cab and that was that.”

“Where did she catch the cab? In front of the club?”

“Down the block. Right in front of the arcade where they show those old movies. Star Wars was playing. I love that movie. You ever see that one?”

“What time was that?”

“About ten forty-five. You just keep asking questions, don’t you? Rat-a-tat-tat.”

“You’re sure about the time?”

“The next show of Star Wars was at eleven so I had time to get a hot dog. Like I said, I’ve always been lucky about little things.” Hennesy leaned over the table. “She was different when she came out of that club. After all that happened that night, she was steady before then. I followed her, I know. She looked like just another modern girl out for fun…but when she came out of that club, she looked like she was about to cry. Like the whole awful night finally caught up with her.” He peered at Rakkim. “You okay?”

“What kind of cab did she get into? Yellow cab? Saladin Transit?”

“No, it was one of those unlicensed rigs…gypsy cabs we used to call them. It was a maroon Ford, but I didn’t get a license plate or anything, so don’t bother asking.”

Rakkim stood up. “Thanks.”

“The ones who came knocking on my door after they found their buddy dead…” Hennesy stared straight ahead. “Those two bounty hunters, they sat me down, and this ugly one in a leather jacket picked up the pinking sheers and my teeth started chattering before they even touched me. They laughed. You heard that laugh, you’d never think anything was funny again. I told myself then, I promised myself that I wasn’t going to tell them squat.”

“You kept Sarah’s secret, Mr. Hennesy. You don’t have anything to be ashamed of.”

“I listened to that girl being attacked and I didn’t do a thing.” Hennesy stared straight ahead. “I didn’t bang on the wall or pull the fire alarm. I just listened.”

“You didn’t give her up. You let them burn you, but you didn’t give her up.”

Hennesy fingered the bag of pistachio nuts. “When you find her…tell her I’m sorry.”

“This seems a little out of my price range, Mr. Conklin,” said the handsome young police officer, looking around the living room of the condo. “I’m sure you’re a fine real estate agent and all, but you probably don’t know what a patrol officer brings home.”

“Nonsense, Officer Hanson,” said Darwin. “Where there’s a will…”

“Where there’s a will…what?”

“A way. Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

Hanson scratched his sparse blond beard. “That’s a new one on me. Live and learn, I guess.”

Darwin nodded. “I couldn’t have said it better.”

Hanson paced off the empty living room with his big, shiny black shoes. Hitched up his belt, adjusting his sidearm. He had just finished his shift, his long face tired, but excited at the possibility of moving out of his parents’ basement. He ran a finger across the mantel of the gas fireplace, noted the small silver sconce on the wall that indicated the direction of Mecca.

“There’s a mosque within walking distance, and a grocery story two blocks over,” said Darwin. “Quiet neighborhood, recently remodeled kitchen. Nine hundred square feet. It’s not a mansion, but it should be plenty big enough for you…and those Catholic girls you indicated a preference for.”

Hanson squared his shoulders. His eyes were eager as a puppy’s. Filthy beasts.

“As I said, you’ve got a mosque close at hand, but you’re only a fifteen-minute drive from the Zone. I’m sure you’re familiar with the temptations of the Christian Quarter.”

“Yeah…well, not in uniform.” Hanson grinned, squatted down, and felt the blue shag carpet. Turned his long, horse face up at Darwin. “This is really nice. The rug in my room now has got cracker crumbs that are older than me.” He stood up, wiped his hands on his trousers. “Hard to believe the price though.”