On the dock I heard people running toward the boat as I picked up the hefty flashlight, stepped in to help Bobo. There wasn't room enough for anything but infighting, slugging each other with short, jolting punches.
Bobo had his head resting on Wilson's shoulder, slugging Lefty's gut, and as I tried to get a clear shot at Wilson's head with the metal flash, Bobo suddenly sent me sprawling with the back of one of his big fists. For a moment I didn't get it... and then I understood: this was
Keeping the light on them, I got the Luger out of my coat and then untied Laurie, asked her if she was all right, only all I could do was mumble something that didn't sound like anything.
“Hal, stop them—they're killing each other!” Laurie said.
I merely shook my head.
Through the portholes a cloud of frightened, curious faces were watching as Bobo and Wilson pounded each other, grunting like animals. They'd slowed up, but each punch was a vicious blow, with every ounce of strength behind it. As Bobo's fists kept up a steady pounding of his stomach, Wilson shuddered, his hands fell to his sides, and he slowly sank to the floor. A slashing uppercut sent his head bouncing back and he lay against the closet door—out cold—blood streaming from his nose, mouth, and ears. Bobo's face was a bloody, panting, smear as he stared down at Wilson, gasped, “Beat you, you sonofabitch... I beat you...
I knew what was running through Bobo's mind, if he'd taken that return match with Wilson and beat him, he would have had all the fame and money the championship brings... instead of hustling for a buck as a guard all these years. At a porthole somebody said, “Better call a cop!” I grabbed Laurie, mumbled, “Tell... them... no!”
“But Hal...?”
I had to claw my jaw open with my fingers to yell, “No!” Motioning for Bobo to tie up Franklin and Lefty, I went up on deck. Maybe it was my face, or the gun in my hand—everybody on the dock scattered. My jaw felt a million painful miles away... but otherwise I felt like singing!
13
Starting the motor, I got the lines off, and with the little crowd of boat-owners peering out from the boathouse at us like we were a crew of loons, I backed the boat out into the East River, headed upstream.
Laurie and Bobo came on deck. She tried to touch my swollen jaw but I backed away. “Hal, where are we going? Why don't we call the police?”
Holding the wheel with one hand, I pointed to my mouth —that I couldn't talk—as I stroked her cheek and winked —trying to tell her everything was okay. I suppose it was lucky I couldn't speak, didn't have to explain the last act of the show I had in mind.
The tide was against us but we got a break—the railroad span at Spuyten was open—one of the round- Manhattan boats was coming through—and the tide was racing down the Hudson. Once I got the boat out in the middle of the river, I gave Laurie the wheel.
I motioned for Bobo to drag Lefty up on the deck. Franklin and I were alone in the cabin. His hands were tied but he wasn't gagged. The knife Lefty had run under Laurie's skirt was still on her bunk and I pretended not to notice it was within reach of Franklin's hands. He still looked a little sickly, watching me as I pulled off my shirt, stripped to the waist. My jaw was so big I couldn't get my T-shirt over my head, had to rip it off. Franklin said, “Darling, you've played this like a fool, but you got one more chance. Let me go, and I'll cut you in for 250 grand— more than the reward—give you all kinds of business and...”
I shook my head.
“Don't be dumb, what you got to lose? I've put in a lot of time and money with this Frisco dough, and the deal is about to pay off. Lot of countries are dollar hungry, willing to pay a bonus for a large bundle of U.S. green. Big people in England, France, Greece—they're anxious to close a deal with me. I'm giving you the chance of a lifetime.”
I slapped my left palm across my right forearm—showing him what he could do with his chance of a lifetime.
“How stupid can you get, Darling? What you worrying about? Afraid you'll get hooked for the murder of that piece whose throat I slit? I can fix that. Get some junkie to take the rap. Why I'll...”
I couldn't take any more of his yapping. Jacking my mouth open with my thumb—the pain making me dizzy—I said,
“People are crap. Human life is one of the cheapest things in the world. Why I...”
“Kill Anita... because she's in your way... stamp out Brody and... and Shelton... hell with their... families. Murder Louise to... to scare... me. Kill... ruin... Hell with a .. a... a person's love... hell with peace.... and decent... living. You think everything in the world... revolves around... a... a... fast buck! You... power-drunk... crazy... just crazy...!”
It was too much talking, I almost blacked out... and I'd need all the strength I had for the next half hour. Besides, why should I bother arguing with Franklin
He laughed in my face. “You're comical. Grow up, little man. If people get in my way... Christ, thousands of people die every day. What's the big deal about a life, about living? You're damn right, the fast buck controls everything! How many millionaires go to jail, ever get the hot seat? But poor slobs get the works every minute. I never ran for office but the boys who are elected will run errands for me, shine my shoes if I ask them, do anything I want —because I got the bucks and... money is power. Read the papers—Washington tells the rest of the world do what we say or we cut off the dough. Try to buck me, play it alone, turn me over to the cops... see which one of us goes to the can! You'll never get out of the pen alive, I have guys inside who'll cut your heart out if I...”
I had to fight the desire to shout at him, “You'll never reach the cops or jail!”—give my plan away. Instead I went on deck.
14
It was a little after eight-thirty and we were under the bridge, few minutes from the dock. Calling Bobo over, I found a hunk of paper and a pencil, wrote: “You know how to use a Luger?”
