Myron turned his attention to the silent brother. 'Let me ask you something, Bronwyn,' he said. 'You and Dennis were both going to nursery school. You both disappeared. Two weeks later, only you came back. How come? What happened to your brother?'
Bronwyn's mouth opened and closed, marionette style. He looked to his sister for help.
'It's like he disappeared off the face of the earth after that,' Myron went on. 'For thirty years, he's totally off the radar. But now, well, it's like he's come back for some reason. He changed his name, opened a small checking account, donated blood to a bone marrow center. So what gives, Bron? You got a clue?'
Bronwyn said, 'That simply cannot be!'
His sister silenced him with a look. But Myron felt something in the air. He mulled the feeling over and another thought hit him: Maybe the Lex siblings didn't know the answer themselves. Maybe they were looking for Dennis too.
It was while he was lost in that thought that Granite Man punched him deep in the stomach. The fist followed through to the point where it seemed the knuckles must have reached the fabric of the couch. Myron snapped closed at the waist. He dropped to the floor, struggled to regain a breath, suffocating from within. He lowered his head to his knees, consumed with one thought: air. He needed air.
Susan Lex's voice boomed in his ears. 'Stan Gibbs knows the truth. His father is a disgusting liar. His accusations are totally without merit. But I'll defend my family, Mr. Bolitar. You tell Mr. Gibbs he has not yet begun to suffer. What has happened to him so far is nothing compared to what I will do to him — and you— if he doesn't stop. Do you understand?'
Air. Gulps of air. Myron managed not to throw up. He took his time, looked up, met her eye. 'Not even a little,' he said.
Susan Lex looked at Grover. 'Then make him.'
With that, she left the room. Her brother took one last look and followed.
Myron gathered his breath a hitch at a time. 'Nice sucker punch, Grover,' he said.
Grover shrugged. 'I went easy on you.'
'Next time, go easy when I'm looking, tough guy.'
'Won't change the outcome.'
'We'll see.' Myron sat up. 'So what the hell is she talking about?'
'I thought Ms. Lex made herself very clear,' he said. 'But because you appear to be a little vacant between the ears, I'll restate her position. She doesn't like people interfering with her affairs. Stan Gibbs, for example, interfered. You can see what happened to him. You interfered. You're about to see what's going to happen to you.'
Myron struggled to his feet. The blue-blazers stayed by the door. Granite Man started cracking his knuckles again. 'Listen closely, please,' he said. 'I'm going to break your leg. Then you're going to limp your sorry ass out of here and tell Gibbs that if he sniffs around again, I will exterminate you both. Any questions?'
'Just one,' Myron said. 'Don't you think leg breaking is a tad cliche?'
Grover smiled. 'Not the way I do it.'
Myron looked around the room.
'Nowhere to run, my friend.'
'Who wants to run?' Myron countered.
Without warning, he grabbed the heavy bowel-movement statue. The blue-blazers drew their guns. Granite Man ducked. But Myron wasn't going for them. He heaved the statue, straightened his arms, spun around like a discus thrower, and hurled it marble-base-forward at the plate-glass window. The window exploded.
And that was when the gunfire began.
'Hit the deck!' Myron shouted.
The blue-blazers obeyed. Myron dove. The bullets continued. Sniper fire. One took out the overhead light. One hit the lamp.
Gotta love that Win.
'You want to live,' Myron shouted, 'stay down.'
The bullets stopped. One of the blue-blazers started rising. A bullet sang out, nearly parting the man's hair.
The blazer dropped back down, flattening himself into a bearskin rug.
'I'm getting up now,' Myron said. 'And I'm leaving. I'd advise you guys to stay down. And, Grover?'
'What?'
'Radio downstairs. Tell them not to stop me. I can't be certain but I'm pretty sure my friend will lob in grenades if I'm unduly delayed.'
Granite Man made the call. No one moved. Myron stood up. He almost whistled as he walked out.
Chapter 26
It was midnight when Myron knocked on the door of Stan Gibbs's condo. 'Let's take a walk,' Myron said to him.
Stan threw down his cigarette, smothered it with his toe. 'A drive might be better,' he countered. 'The feds use long-range amplifiers.'
They got into Myron's Ford Taurus, aka the Chick Trawler. Stan Gibbs flicked on the radio and started playing with the stations. Commercial for Heineken. Does anyone really care that it's imported by Van Munchin and Company?
'Are you wearing a wire, Myron?'
'No.'
'But the FBI spoke to you,' Stan said. 'After you left.'
'How did you know?'
'They're watching me,' he said with a shrug. 'It would only be logical to assume they questioned you.'
'Tell me about your connection with Dennis Lex,' Myron said.
'I already told you. I don't have one.'
'A big guy named Grover picked me up tonight. He and Susan Lex gave me a very stern warning not to play with you anymore. Bronwyn was there too.'
Stan Gibbs closed his eyes and rubbed them. 'They knew about your visit here.'
'Had eight-by-ten glossies.'
'And they concluded that you're working for me.'
'Bingo.'
Stan shook his head. 'Get out of this, Myron. You don't want to mess with these people.'
'Is that advice you wished someone had given you earlier?'
His smile had nothing behind it. Exhaustion came off him like heat squiggles on a hot sidewalk. 'You have no idea,' he said.
'Tell me about it.'
'No.'
'I can help,' Myron said.
'Against the Lexes? They're too powerful.'
'And being powerful, you wanted to do a story on them, right?'
He said nothing.
'And they didn't like that. In fact, they took exception.'
More nothing.
'You started digging where they didn't want you to. You learned that there was another brother named Dennis.'
'Yes.'
'And that really pissed them off.'
Stan started biting a hangnail.
