Charlie stepped from the shower and quickly toweled himself off. He wiped a spot large enough on the mirror to see his face, and smiled widely at the reflection. Not bad for an old fart. With a small comb he styled his wet hair, wondering if he ought to start dyeing it. No, he thought. I like the beginnings of gray at the temples, offsets the red. Besides, Beth likes the gray. Makes me look distinguished – isn't that what people always say?
He blew himself a kiss, wrapped a towel around his waist and moved into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, his bare feet cold against the chilly tile. Leaning against the counter, he poured himself a steaming mug and took a sip. He didn't have much planned for the day; had slept later than usual, and decided he'd stay close to home.
An icy breeze tickled his shins. He noticed the kitchen door was ajar. Beth was working a double-shift and wasn't expected home until later that night. Maybe she left it open on her way out, he thought. She was always so frazzled in the morning.
He moved cautiously to the door, opened it and poked his head outside. The street was clear and his car sat alone in the driveway. Nice going, Beth, our heating bill should be through the roof this month.
The floor creaked.
Charlie turned in time to see two dark forms standing behind him.
Something flashed near his face. Something metallic.
'Are you out of your mind?' Frank asked. 'You're gonna fucking shoot me?'
'Not unless I have to.'
'I thought Turano was the enemy.'
Vincent lowered the gun and smiled. 'John Turano's been dead for two days, Frank. Michael's guys don't miss. But you've turned into such a fucking mark, I knew you'd buy it.'
Frank leaned forward on the desk; afraid he might collapse. 'Who were the people looking for me at my apartment?'
'Couple of Mike's guys. I had some business to take care of and I needed you out of the way for a while. I couldn't have you stuck up my ass pissing and moaning. Jesus, you know how you get.'
'Why couldn't you have just talked to me about it?' Frank reached for the middle desk drawer and Vincent quickly raised the gun.
'Careful.'
Frank pulled a pack of cigarettes from the drawer and tossed them on the desk. Vincent relaxed, lowering his weapon. Frank lit a cigarette and attempted a more relaxed posture.
'It's funny,' Vincent said. 'You hang with a guy for most of your life and you figure you know him. I thought you were like me, Frank. Strong. But you're not. You're weak. I hate weak.' He pulled a chair in front of the desk and sat down. 'You're smarter than me – I got no problem admitting that – and that's why early on I needed you. But I'm smart too. In a completely different way, of course, but I'm not as dumb as I look.'
'I never thought you were dumb, Vin.'
Vincent smiled. 'I really thought we could make this work, goombah. Hell, you're like a brother to me – you know that – but changes had to be made, and you'd already gone and gotten yourself all worked up sweating the small shit.'
Frank hoped his fear was not as obvious as it felt.
'Plus, you're a drunk. I never knew that about you. I don't like drunks. They make mistakes – usually stupid ones. Like causing trouble with Nick Strong – a guy who only stands to put more money in our pockets. Like not being able to separate business and personal problems. Like letting your wife fuck other guys. It's a small business, Frank; people talk. Damn, if I'd known you were passing her around I would have taken a turn myself. Then there was your old man's death. That pushed you right over the edge.'
'I thought you were above kicking me when I was down, Vin.' His free hand curled slowly into a fist.
'I ain't above much,' Vincent chuckled.
The tip of the blade slashed Charlie's face, and he staggered back. Ignoring the burning sensation spreading from cheek to jaw-line, he tried to run for the bathroom, but one of the men grabbed him by the throat and pinned him easily to the counter.
'Christ,' he said, choking. 'Please – don't.'
The man buried the blade just above his crotch with a single violent thrust. Charlie gagged, felt bile and blood rising in his throat as the man tugged the knife upward, tearing his abdomen as it went.
Charlie fell. On hands and knees, he tried desperately to prevent his intestines from spilling from his belly and uncoiling onto the bloody floor like a giant eel.
His body bucked and collapsed to the floor, a large pool of blood forming around it.
'Trust's an important thing, Frank,' Vincent told him. 'And I just didn't think I could trust you anymore. You're a risk, and with all that was going on I knew I couldn't afford the headache.'
'You killed Gus,' Frank said, more statement than question.
'I didn't kill anybody.' Vincent smiled. 'But believe me, he's as dead as you get.' He checked his watch. 'Right about now Charlie ought to be having some trouble, too.'
'You didn't have to do this.'
'See what I mean? You don't have the culones for this, Frank. It's all about balls. Big fucking brass balls. I'm beginning to think you got a pussy between your legs.'
'Why did you have to kill them? Christ, there must have been a million ways you could've – '
'They were in the way,' Vincent said evenly. 'Neither one of them was smart enough to just cut loose. They would've tried to fuck with me. After this little display – and you got to admit it's pretty fucking spectacular – nobody's ever gonna fuck with me again.'
Frank took a hard pull on his cigarette, exhaled wearily through his nose. 'What about the cops? Isn't it gonna look a little strange when two people so closely associated with us wind up dead?'
'Gus and that slut he was hanging out with were into some bad shit. She was a junkie; did you know that? When they find the bodies they'll also find drugs. Just another dope deal gone wrong, Frank.'
'And Charlie?'
'It's the strangest thing. He vanished. Happens all the time. Guy gets tired of the old lady, goes down to the corner store for a pack of butts and never comes back.' Vincent stretched casually, as if his back was bothering him. 'Nobody is ever gonna see Charlie Rain's ugly ass again. By the time they get done spreading what's left of him around, people in every restaurant in New York'll be eating the sonofabitch for dinner.' Vincent winked. 'Never order red meat out.'
'What if the cops don't buy it?'
'The cops Michael pays to look the other way? Those cops?'
Frank leaned back in his chair and crushed his cigarette out in an ashtray on the desk.
'Turano's gone and his federation no longer exists,' Vincent said. 'I'd say my profits just tripled, wouldn't you? And with Charlie and Gus out of the picture, I should be making some serious coin in no time at all. Now this whole part of the country belongs to me. Hell, I know it's only the independent circuit and the big boys still run the game in all the big-time circles, but a guy has to start somewhere, right?'
'What about Luther?' Frank asked. 'He and Charlie were close.'
Vincent's eyes narrowed. 'Luther's a whore. I'm his new pimp. That simple.'
'And me? You gonna kill me too?'
'What am I, some whacked out psycho?' Vincent laughed. 'We're friends, for Christ's sake, how could you
