Ken Bruen - Merrick

Bob looked way over any edge he’d ever clung to, a cleaver in his hand.

He stood up.

I said

‘The Simpson’s.’

He stopped

I explained

‘Freakshow Bob, voiced by Kelsey Grammer.’

Charlie said

‘Drop the piece Ryan or you know the tired drill, the lady get’s it, yada yada.’

I dropped it.

Bob advanced.

Charlie said

‘See, you still get to solve the case, sort of. Bob there, he carves you into pieces, Merrick arrives, shoots him and alas, Bob get’s a shot off, killing our hero Merrick. Sloppy, but you know, I’m making this shit up as I go along. Now, what movie is that from, guess it and you get…………am, let’s see, four minutes extra.’

‘I said

‘Easy, Indiana Jones but Bob, yo psycho, you getting mail?’

Bob was as close to drooling as you get, hesitated

And I asked

‘You stupid bollix, what part of your smart arse buddy’s plan didn’t you get?’

Charlie hissed

‘Don’t listen to him, he’s trying to mess with your head.’

I laughed, dragged it up from my gut, said

‘Bob, he said, you get fucked, you heard him.’

Bob was literally disintegrating, I jeered

‘Do the math.’

He swirled and a blast took his head off.

Merrick stepped into the room, the pump leveled at Charlie, who laughed, then

‘Ah, party pooper. Just when we were having fun. What now wise guy?’

Merrick glanced at me, I nodded ok and he said

‘I don’t suppose you’ll let her go?’

Charlie seemed totally unfazed, said

‘I could try to shoot you but then the other would take me out. So………………….I’m

going to take Mr.’s Trent with me, drive off and if you don’t follow, I’ll release her in a

half hour.’

There seemed little choice. We moved out in a group, and finally Charlie said

‘This is my ride, now if you gents would just step inside, I can go on my way and this

lovely lady can go free.’

I was raising the Sig along my left side, Merrick whispered

‘No.’

Charlie said

‘Listen to your buddy Ryan, you might get a shot off but if you miss and I’m a moving

target.’

I lowered the gun.

And he was gone.

After five minutes Merrick said

‘Fuck this, let’s go.’

We raced to his car and within ten minutes, we found her body by the side of the road.

Shot in the face.

And Charlie,

He’d disappeared, it seemed off the face of the earth.

We figured another car, or whatever.

He was in the wind.

Two days later, we were gathered in Merrick’s bar, Shona at my side, Merrick, wearing a

sweat shirt that had the logo

……………………………………Black Cat.

I didn’t ask.

I was afraid he’d tell me.

Merrick said

‘The loot has a nationwide APB on Charlie, where can he go, sooner or later they’ll get

him.’

Neither of us bought that, it was more for Shona. The guy had prepared his escape a long

time ago. He was dust, a ghost, lost in some shadows of foreboding.

Merrick looked a bit nervous, I said

‘Spit it out, what’s eating you?’

He looked at Shona, said

‘You hear this guy, speaking American?’

She said

‘Trust me, he’s all Irish.

Merrick said

‘Don’t go off on me, ok?’

I waited

He swallowed, then

‘We’ve been offered a new case, Serge. Boxer passed it along, you interested?’

I looked at Shona, she said

‘Of course, what else he’s going to do, mope around the house, getting on my nerves.’

Merrick smiled, asked

‘So, anyone up for a movie?’

In the Catskill’s, in winter, it’s quiet, you can pick your choice of cabins to rent. Charlie,

a bag of groceries tucked in his arm, the Beretta in the right pocket of his heavy duty

parka, smiled. His beard had come full in, grey, giving him that distinguished look. And

his shaven head, oh Sweet Mother, to shave off all that thick hair?

But what you gonna do?

In the spring, the heat would be off, the heat would be on, weather wise and he could

move to Boca.

The deal done and sealed.

So, a few months to eat, drink some beers, down some hot Jameson, how was he hurting.

Already, in the local Tavern, the proprietress given him that come on look. No sweat,

he’d get to her, thought

‘How sweet it is.’

Managed to get his key in the lock of the cabin, without dropping the grocery bag, got in

tried to balance for the light switch when wham, like he was hit by a fucking mule.

Out.

Came to, naked, tied to the basic wooden kitchen chair, two huge guys looking at him

with almost disinterest.

One had, what?…………a lightening scar on his face, the fuck was with that?

The other was juicing up a power drill.

Scar face moved up

Asked

‘How you like your hot dog?’