“They let him walk so long as he would persuade you to go on television and make the plea to the killer.”
“What?” His father had told him that he’d been approached by a newscaster to make the appeal, and the newscaster thought Chase should do it instead. “So it wasn’t his idea.”
“No, did you think it was?”
“Anything else?”
Hopkins’s voice became charged with delight. “Oh, and I called my wife. We’re going to have dinner and try to work things out. I think she-”
Chase hung up.
Jonah said, “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Those were the last customers.” Angie gestured from the backseat. “The place is empty now.”
“Yeah.”
“He’ll be closing up soon. If you go in too late, he’ll know it’s a smash.”
Chase had the 9mm and his tools in the pockets of his jacket. He slid out of the Chevelle and Jonah did the same.
The trouble would be the buzz gate. Shonny Fishman had dealt with thieves for too long not to recognize a couple right off. He’d never let them in. Even if they tapped on the security glass with the guns and acted like they’d shoot their way in, Shonny would just lam it out the back door or pick up a shotgun and blast them like fish in a barrel. Chase knew he’d have to pop the buzz gate.
He hit the door and got his tools out. He was still a little rusty, but after breaking into James Lefferts’s home, Ellie Raymond’s place, and the Nicholson house, he figured he could slip the gate in twenty or thirty seconds.
He told Jonah, “Block the view as much as you can.”
His grandfather moved beside him and started talking loudly, smiling, acting drunk. It’d make Shonny Fishman roll his eyes and be reluctant to buzz them in, but at least he wouldn’t be spooked yet. Jonah had perfect teeth even though he hardly ever showed them. His laugh was boisterous and booming. He was bullshitting about winning two grand on the game tonight. He didn’t mention what kind of game or who the teams might be, because who the hell knew, but he sold it well. The laughter would sound very real to anybody else, but hearing it sent a spike through Chase’s spine.
Under his breath, Jonah said, “Smart fucker, he’s not buying it anymore,” and the door popped.
One second the gun was hidden and the next it was in his hand as Jonah rushed inside and pointed it in Shonny Fishman’s face. He moved Shonny from behind the counter. He kept close, the gun tight in Shonny’s stomach so that no one could peer through the front window and catch what was going on.
Shonny had a bald head ringed by short white hair and covered with caramel-colored freckles and liver spots, a face like an old basset hound that just wanted to stay under the porch. He was short but wiry, with a kind of stable fortitude that would always get him through. The gun annoyed him more than it frightened him.
He said almost casually, “Damn it. I knew you two were up to something. That was very slick. That security gate cost me almost five grand.”
“You need an upgrade,” Chase told him.
“Security tapes,” Jonah said. There were at least two cameras trained on them.
Shonny sighed. “Under the counter.”
Most pawnshops would have the taping equipment in the back, running all the time. But Shonny’s other customers wouldn’t be happy with that. They’d want to see him shut everything off and erase the tapes right in front of them, so he kept the gear close and up front. Jonah motioned Shonny aside and Chase slid behind the counter, shut the equipment down, and popped the tapes.
Chase knew guys like Shonny cared more about their money than their own lives or the lives of their friends. It was a kind of sickness, but there it was, and half the guys he’d ever run into in the bent life were pretty much the same. So Chase wanted to appeal to him fast.
He said, “Shonny, we’re not here for your cash. We could tap-dance around each other for twenty minutes, but I’m all out of patience and time. I want Earl and Ellie Raymond. You deal with them. You still must have some payout for them from the double diamond merchant score. Just give me where they’re holed up and you might walk away from this.”
“‘Might walk away?’ From guys like you two? You’re lying to a dead man, and I’d say that’s simply unforgivable.”
“Maybe you missed the frenzy in my voice, Shonny.” Chase brought the butt of the gun down across Shonny’s bald head and opened a gash up. It wasn’t too hard a shot, but head wounds were notorious bleeders, and already there was a pint leaking down Shonny’s slightly aggrieved face.
Yanking him up by his collar, Chase stuck the barrel of the 9mm under Shonny’s chin. “Might walk away’s about as good as you’re going to get from me, and the longer you make me wait, the thinner your chances get. So how about it?”
You had to give it to him, he was holding on. Some of these old-timers, they figured they had one foot in the grave already so figured they could tell anybody to fuck off. “What do you want with them?”
“I want to sell them some aluminum siding,” Chase said and dug the gun in farther until Shonny let out an ugly “glckk” noise. He lashed his head to the side and a swathe of blood splashed against the floor.
Now maybe they’d get somewhere. Shonny Fishman held out another minute and said, “121 Pine Drive in Smithtown, out on the Island.”
That was Marisa Iverson’s-Ellie Raymond’s-address, the house Chase had broken into.
“You prick.” Chase smacked him in the head again with the barrel of the gun. Shonny cried out but not enough.
All right, it had to be done. Chase worked the guy’s ribs with four fast body blows. No matter how tough you thought you were, a broken rib would change your goddamn mind.
It happened so quick that Shonny Fishman didn’t even scream. He hacked up pink phlegm and started to slide to the floor, but Jonah propped him against the counter.
“Listen, Shonny,” Chase said. “I respect your loyalty, courage, determination, and all that. But next I’m going to shoot off your johnson. I’m not going to kill you, get it? You’re not going to die. But I’ll leave you in a very bad ugly mess, and even an old bastard like you doesn’t want to piss through a tube, right? So, in case you missed it, I don’t want your money. In this world, that makes me as righteous a soul as you’ve ever met. Now, where are they?”
Shonny Fishman’s eyes were brimming with worry now. Even if he wasn’t getting laid regularly or couldn’t get it up anymore a guy still liked to know he had a pecker.
Putting the barrel of the 9mm to Shonny’s crotch, Chase said, “It’s time. Where are they?”
“Foundry Street.”
“Newark?”
“It’s a run-down motel. I don’t know which number room they’re in.”
“How many? Who’s there?”
“Ellie and Earl and Slip.”
The Deuce had mentioned that name. “Slip Jenson. He have a scar on his forehead?”
Shonny had to use his knuckles to clear the blood from the corner of his eyes. “Yeah. The others, I don’t know their names, but they took their share of the initial payout and went to A.C. to blow it on hookers and Texas Holdem. That’s what Earl said.”
That didn’t matter unless one of them was the driver. Chase had to be sure. “Now just one more thing. Who’s the getaway man for their crew?”
“Earl. Earl does all the driving.”
There it was.
Finally, that got Shonny truly scared. Jonah could do it to you, no matter how solid you were. Shonny started waving his hands, jittering in place. “Wait wait, listen to me, you don’t have to do anything. I’m no trouble to you-”
