garage?'
I went clown one more flight until we reached a large open parking level that contained at least fifty cars. Most of them were old and in pretty bad shape.
'Ain't gonna find him down here,' Horace complained. ' 'Less he's bangin' his bitch in the backseat.'
I found Rocky's empty Mercedes parked in a stall marked 456.
'Apartment four-fifty-six,' I told him. 'Happy now?'
He wasn't happy. He didn't like being out-thought.
We headed back into the stairwell and started up. If I was going to unload Velario, now was the time.
For the last five minutes, I'd been coming up with and discarding different ways to go about it. He had a reputation as a barroom brawler and was supposed to be eat-quick. Since he didn't trust me, he was being careful to always walk a few feet to the left and behind, staying in my blind spot.
As we reentered the staircase, I heard the creak of leather as he unholstered his sidearm. Then I heard his aluminum street baton coming out of its metal belt ring. I had an ugly image of that murderous Neanderthal trailing behind me with a. 38 in one hand and an eighteen-inch aluminum bat in the other.
I stopped on the third-floor landing and reached for the murder weapon, pulling the street-clean nine- millimeter Para automatic out of the cellophane bag.
'What're you doing?' Horace said, backing away, raising the nose of his. 38 to the vicinity of my groin. His baton was belt-high at the ready.
I'm checking the gun,' I said. 'Don't want a misfire.' I motioned toward his. 38. 'And stop pointing that at me.'
Horace ignored the request and instead took another step back, giving himself a better range of motion in case I tried anything.
I went through an elaborate weapons check on the Para. I dropped the clip, checked the loads, and jammed it back up into the handle. I carefully slipped the safety forward to the on position. When I finished I looked over at Horace, who was standing there like a video game assassin — shaved head, weapons in both hands, ready to spill some sauce.
'Safety's broken,' I said, and pointed the gun at the concrete wall, pulling the trigger helplessly. The hammer wouldn't move.
'Bullshit,' Horace said.
'You try it, then.' I handed Velario the Para. This caused him a logistics problem because he had the metal baton in one hand and his police 38 in the other. He had to holster something. He finally slid the metal baton back into his belt ring and he took the automatic from me. Once he was holding it, he seemed to drop his guard slightly, because he now had all the unholstered weapons and, except for my police-issue sidearm in its flapped holster, which would be hard to draw quickly, he thought I was momentarily defenseless.
Me lowered his own weapon and glared clown at the little palm-sized automatic, quickly discovering the problem. 'There's nothing wrong with the safety, dummy. You just gotta push it clown.'
As he said this, my right hand snaked into my back pocket. Horace was still looking clown at the Para as I yanked the leather sap out and made a mighty swing-for-the-fences pivot toward him with the sap at full arm extension. Two pounds of encased lead whistled through the air and hit him square in the teeth. Little pieces of chipped enamel flew like broken pottery. I lis giant head snapped back and hit the concrete wall. He dropped the street gun and barely managed to hang on to his. 38. It dangled precariously from his fingers, momentarily forgotten.
I took one step forward, gave him a backward shot to the temple using my elbow. As soon as that landed, I stomped on his right foot to hold him in place and threw a hard left cross followed by a vicious uppercut with the sap. It was a great three-punch combination, but despite all this, the big ex-linebacker didn't go down. He was stunned, but still standing, his gun hanging loosely from his fingertips. I swatted it away. It clattered to the ground, bouncing clown two steps.
He looked up at me with dull eyes, then grabbed feebly for the sap. I let go of it and he came away with the two-pound lead weight in his hand. Then he tried to get his arm back to swing it, but by now he was moving at half speed. I finished him off with a double left jab over a chopping right. I landed all three perfectly and he slammed back against the wall and started to slide down with a puzzled look on his face. His expression seemed to say, But I never lose one of these.
'We having fun yet?' I asked, then I kicked him in the head. But one eye stayed open, staring. He was slumped over. What's this guy using for a skull? I thought. Forty-gauge iron plate?
I snatched the handcuffs off his belt and cuffed both his wrists through the metal handrail in the stairwell. Then I grabbed the extra pair of socks I'd taken from my duffel earlier and stuffed them into his mouth. He was bleeding from four places on his head and four of his teeth were gone. The rest were shattered. I picked up both guns and turned off his shoulder rover. I was just getting ready to go when I glanced down and saw him staring up at me through one open bloodshot eye. I'd given him the best I had and he was still not out.
'I gotta hand it to you, Horace. I'm impressed.'
I turned and left him there.
Chapter 43
I exited the stairwell on the fourth floor and glanced out a window that overlooked the street. No white Kscaladc. No federal backup.
Apartment 456 was in the middle of the top-floor corridor on the courtyard side of the building. I carefully tried the doorknob. Locked.
It had a solid wood core so I didn't think I could kick it in.
I stood in the hallway looking for a likely hide-a-key spot. I checked over the doorjamb. Dust bunnies and spiders. No potted plants or wall art. I checked the fire-extinguisher box down the hall. Nada.
I certainly didn't want to climb up to the roof and try to rappel down onto the balcony like some character in a Bruce Lee movie.
It felt too much like comedy.
I also knew that if Alonzo didn't get the 911 call soon, he and Roulon Green would come looking. With the elevators broken, they'd probably also use the less-traveled fire stairs and would find Horace. I had used up too much valuable time already and knew I couldn't stand around scratching my head.
The damned roof gag boiled down to my only decent choice. I returned to the stairwell and looked down one flight at Velario, who was still cuffed to the railing with my socks in his mouth. His left eye was now swollen completely shut, but the other one was glaring up at me with murderous hatred.
'Comfy?' 1 whispered down at him.
Then I turned and climbed up the one additional flight and came out onto a flat, silver-painted roof. 'There was a half-moon lighting the night and I could see a minefield of hardware-store clutter up here. It looked as if the apartments' residents used this roof for a sundeck. Beach chairs and hibaehis shared space with several flourishing marijuana plants with protective signs that read HECTOR'S BUD or PROPERTY OF JUAN GARCIA-NO TOGA.
I picked my way across this campground of flowering happiness and crossed to the interior edge of the building, then walked along counting apartment windows below me until I got to the spot I hoped was directly above Rocky's balcony. I looked down at the dead citrus trees in the courtyard below. To do this, I was going to have to hang down from the rain gutter, dangling four stories up. I hated it, but there was no other way.
I lay on my stomach and slowly lowered myself over the edge, gripping the rain gutter with both hands and extending to my full five feet eleven inches. Then I searched for the balcony railing with my toes. After half a minute of this, the gutter started to pull loose, coming aw ay from the eaves of the roof with a loud metallic shriek.
It suddenly gave way and I crashed painfully onto the balcony below, landing on some wooden patio furniture, shattering a small glass-top table. Electric pain buzzed up my arm from my funny bone. I felt a sharp stab in my side like a rib had just broken.
I groaned and tried to collect myself. just then the door to the balcony flew open and Rocky was standing there butt-naked, fists up, read}' to kick my ass again. Despite the pain, I scrambled to my feet.
