'You shut up too,' Soldier said, pointing a finger at Paco. He shifted it to Chub, said, 'Angel, move.'
Angel stepped toward me. I saw a snubnose .38 come out of her coat pocket. I glanced back at Soldier. He stood, picked his hat up, took hold of the .45 automatic under it, pointed it at Chub and fired. The back of Chub's head went by me in a gray and red flash, hit the wall where Angel had stood. Chub bent his knees slowly, went down until he was supported on them, fell back with his face to the ceiling. The rest of what was in his head ran out like sewage.
The sound of the gunshot throbbed around the room, and Soldier, the .45 still pointed where Chub had stood, said, 'Anyone makes to use their gun, I'll kill 'em. If not me, Angel. Not Angel, Paco.'
We looked at Paco.
'That's the way it is,' Paco said.
Chapter 22
'Yeah,' Soldier said. 'That's the way it is. Now play real smart, don't give me any nigger lectures, and let Angel collect your guns. Pretty please?'
Angel merely took hold of the barrels of the guns, one at a time, tugged gently. Trudy and Howard were so stunned they let go without realizing it. Angel tossed the guns on the desk, went over and opened Chub's coat and pulled his out of his waistband. I couldn't help but look at those open, bugged eyes of his, that small hole in his forehead, the puddle on the floor where the back of his head touched. No more analysis for him. No more worries about being the inadequate fat boy. I hoped at some point I had said something nice to him, more for my sake than his.
Angel tossed Chub's gun on the table with the others.
Soldier nodded at the guns. 'These are for shit. You dips wouldn't have known guns had I had them. I leave here, I leave that shit right here on the desk. . . . You see, there never were any guns, or any goddamn underground. There was just Paco and he's been talking to me, and he knows me and knows I got a line on some deals, and he wants to make big bucks. Get out of the chickenfeed, you know. The big score, and all that shit. Besides, who but me is going to hire the ugly sonofabitch for something big, huh? No offense, Paco. Fire'll do that to you. Make you like scrunched . . . What's that wrapper paper, Angel? They put it around Twinkies, that kind of thing.'
'Cellophane,' Angel said.
'That's it, That's the stuff your face looks like, Paco.'
Soldier turned back to us and moved the sight of the .45 along the side of his jaw. Our eyes went to him and his gun and back to poor Chub. A gun and a dead body will hypnotize you, especially with the echo of the shot still ringing in your ears, the coppery smell of blood and shit stuffed full in your nostrils.
'Those are special expressions you're wearing,' Soldier said, and he smiled at Trudy and Howard. 'Got your goats, didn't I? Came in here all ready to deal, dragging prisoners along like you're somebody tough, and now you're all my prisoners. And I ain't got gun one. Don't think I can't get 'em, now, I can. Could. But I don't deal them much anymore. They're a hassle. Easy to get caught. Dope's easier. But Paco, he comes to me, says he's got something easier than that, got some real dumbasses on the hook that I don't got to do business with you. Just got to be here to take your money. And you know what's best for you, we'll get on with that part right now, because I don't take shit. I'm like my old man. He didn't take none of it neither. Old lady mouthed off at him, whamo.' He made a backhand motion. 'We kids didn't mind, whamo. Hey, see this ear.' He turned his left ear to us. 'See how it's kind of cauliflowered. Nothing creepy, now. Not like old Paco there, but a little fucked, you know. Old man did that. Beat me within an inch of my life. Deserved it. I was disrespectful. . . . Look here, I'm going to take that money now. Which one of you's carrying?'
I looked at Trudy. She was staring without seeing. Howard looked at her, then back to Soldier. No one said anything.
'Nobody's talking to me here,' Soldier said. 'Someone better talk to me real soon, or I'm going to have to get someone's attention. I'll start with the nigger, then the nagger’s pal. Paco, what's his name?'
'Hap,' Paco said.
'Hap. Old Happy Kind of Guy. . . . Listen, talk to me. I'm going to get the money anyway. I can shoot you and search you. But hey, I'm easy. I'd prefer you show a little respect here and give it over. I'm big on respect. Know what I'm saying?'
'We want the guns,' Trudy said, and her voice was surprisingly firm.
Soldier smiled. 'What's that? The guns? You want the guns?' He looked at Paco. 'She wants the guns.' He turned back to Trudy. 'Bitch, I told you, there aren't any guns. No bang-bangs. Not even any bullets for you to throw. You see, it's like this. You give me the money, and I don't blow your brains out. That's the deal, see, and that's all the deal there is.' Soldier lifted the automatic and pointed it at Leonard. 'We'll start with the coon, he'll be missed the least. We work up from there and end it with the woman.'
Howard said, 'We didn't bring it with us.'
'Say what?' Soldier said. 'What're you talking here? Got in a hurry going out the door and forgot the money? Huh? That the story? Hey, you better talk to me, asshole.'
Howard's Adam's apple seemed to be plugging his vocal cords. 'We don't have the money with us.'
Soldier put the automatic on the desk and looked at Paco. 'What's this? There some money or not?'
'There's money,' Paco said. 'I saw it.'
'You wouldn't fuck with Soldier, would you?'
'I saw the money. I told them to bring it.'
'You told them. You didn't see them bring it, though, right?'
'No, but mere's money. Ballpark of four hundred thousand.'
