Show of Evil

'There's paper out on your boss.'

Stenner stood up, his eyes narrowed. 'Who you talking about, Yancey?'

'No, man. The piranha.'

'Piranha?' Flaherty asked.

'Vail. They're scared shitless of him. Can't be bought. Never know where he's gonna jump next.'

'You saying there's a contract out on Martin Vail?' Flaherty said fiercely. 'Who?'

'Do we have a deal on the Vette?' Bollinger asked with a smile.

With a growl, Flaherty pulled the .38 out of his shoulder holster. He jammed it under Bellinger's nose.

'Don't fuck with us. Who put out the contract and who's doing the job? You say it now or I swear to God I'll throw you out the damn window.'

'Hey, hey…' Bollinger said, turning pale.

Stenner reached out and laid his hand over the gun. 'Answer those two questions right now, Bobby,' he said sternly.

'Shoulders. It's like two hundred K.'

'Shoulders ordered the hit?'

'Yeah, but I think maybe they're all in on it. You know, the whole gang chipped in.'

'Who's the shooter?' Flaherty said. His voice had gone dead.

'You better cover me on this.'

'Who's the fuckin' shooter?'

Bellinger sighed. He was beginning to sweat. 'It's a cop, does Shoulders's tricks.'

'A cop?' Stenner said. 'What cop?'

'Look I… I…' Bollinger stammered.

'What cop?' Flaherty demanded.

'His name's Heintz,' Bollinger babbled.

'Lou Heintz? A sergeant?' Stenner said.

'That's the one.'

'You know him, Major?' Flaherty asked.

'Oh yes, Lou Heintz. Doesn't surprise me a bit. When is this supposed to go down?'

Bollinger shrugged. 'Whenever. It's paid for.'

'My God,' Stenner said, and headed for the phone.

'This better be the McCoy,' said Flaherty.

'Who the hell are you, anyways?' Bollinger whimpered.

Flaherty smiled for the first time. 'I'm the guy who's gonna make you the greatest song-and-dance man since Fred Astaire,' he said.

And he had. It had taken eighteen months, but Flaherty had successfully prosecuted Shoulders, two of his henchmen, three department heads, the city manager, and an assistant city attorney and set in motion Meyer's successful cases against the two city councilmen. All of them were still in prison.

Bollinger was in Oregon with orders never to set foot east of the Mississippi River.

Lou Heintz, the killer motorcycle cop, had vanished. And Stenner had immediately become Vail's bodyguard, picking him up every morning, delivering him to meetings, watching his back constantly, usually delivering him home at night.

About a year later, Heintz was found dead in an abandoned car in Pittsburgh with four .22s in the back of his head. It was written off as a gang hit. Nobody would ever know whether it involved the contract on Martin Vail or not.

But Stenner never stopped his surveillance. He had been Vail's constant companion ever since, except at those times when Vail managed to shake him. Like the night before.

Vail was still deep in reminiscence when Stenner pulled up in the car. He glared up at his boss and shook his head.

'Right out in the open,' he said as Vail got into the car. 'Alone.