Charlie dove from behind the table, pitched himself into the kitchen, caught one in the gut just as he went through the doorway. Nolan could see the little man in underwear crawling off through the kitchen, out toward the elevator. Somehow Nolan sensed that Charlie was not so much trying to get away as making an attempt to get to Walter and warn him. Well, luck to you, Charlie, Nolan thought.
Angelo yanked the magazine out, flipped it around and shoved it in place and Nolan blew Angelo’s kneecap apart with a.38 slug. Angelo fell on his face, like a pratfalling clown, but much harder, and on his side started in firing the grease gun again and the room was splintering, chunks of the marble top started to fly and Nolan held his breath, hoping Angelo’s pain and rage and reflex would empty that damn, damn gun.
It did. The
When he came to a second later, he looked up, blinked the blood from his eyes, saw Angelo kneeling on his good knee in front of him. “Are you awake, Nolan?”
Nolan nodded.
“Good,” Angelo said. “I want you awake, you overrated bastard. Some fucking tough guy,” and Angelo lifted the Bodyguard Smith and Wesson.38 and let Nolan look into its short snub-nose, let him wait for the blossom of fire and smoke.
“Hold it!”
The voice came from behind them.
“What the hell’s happening here?”
It was Greer.
The baby-faced man was standing in the doorway over where moments before Angelo had been firing the grease gun. Greer had his own snub-nose.38 in his right hand.
“Greer,” Angelo said, his eyes moving back and forth.
“What you doing, Ange?”
“I’m going to kill this son of a bitch, Greer,” Angelo said. “He tried to pull a cross, tried to team up with Charlie and cross the Family.”
“I don’t believe you,” Greer said, and shot Angelo through the throat.
Angelo’s.38 went off, but Nolan had had sense to duck and roll as Greer fired, and Angelo’s gun clattered to the floor and he clutched with both hands under his double chin and flopped onto his back and gurgled and died.
Nolan said, “Jesus.”
Greer came over and helped him up. “Where’s Charlie?”
“Shit,” Nolan said, and headed for the kitchen.
When he got there the elevator had gone to the bottom. Charlie had somehow found strength to punch DOWN. Nolan pressed the button and heard the elevator whine and moan and start its ascent. When it got back up, Charlie was still inside the cage.
He was sitting against the steel wall, his lower tee-shirt and shorts soaked with red. His eyes were shut.
Nolan crouched down beside the little man and yelled as though Charlie were a hundred yards away. “Charlie! For Christ’s sake, Charlie!”
The close-set eyes flickered.
“Charlie,” Nolan said, putting a hand on the little man’s shoulder. “Thank God you’re alive.”
“Never thought I’d live to... hear you... say that, Nolan.”
“Where is it, Charlie? What did you do with my money?”
“I won, Nolan. I beat you.”
“You want me to help your boy, don’t you? Well, where’s the money, what’d you do with it?”
“You promise... promise you’ll... help Walter?”
“I’ll do whatever you want, just what did you do with my money!”
“You’ll keep your word... if I tell you what I did with it?”
“Yes, dammit! Don’t die on me, you son of a bitch!”
“All right,” Charlie said, and he told Nolan what he’d done with the money.
The look of dismayed surprise on Nolan’s face tickled Charlie’s ass and Charlie let out one big, raucous belly laugh and held his bleeding belly and died that way.
Nolan got to his feet unsteadily. He felt as if he, too, had been ripped into by Angelo’s grease gun. He stepped out of the elevator and wandered into the kitchen, took a seat at the formica-top table, sat and stared at the cluster of empty Schlitz cans in front of him, pressed his hands against his temples.
Greer said, “What’s going on?”
Nolan pointed toward the vestibule and Greer went over and saw Charlie and came back.
“That’s a nasty gash on your forehead,” Greer said.
Nolan said, “Get me a beer, will you? Should be some in that refrigerator.”
Greer brought Nolan a Schlitz, got one for himself and sat with Nolan at the table.
“You okay, Nolan?”
“I don’t know yet.” He gulped down the beer. He belched. “That was nice shooting in there. I take back what I said about snub-nose.38s.”
Greer grinned. “How do you know I was aiming at Ange?”
Nolan managed to return the grin, said, “Where’d you come from, anyway? I didn’t expect you to show up like the fucking marines.”
“Came straight from Iowa City. Felix called me and said to get my butt up to this place.”
It hadn’t taken Felix long to track down Eagle’s Roost. “How’d you beat Felix’s boys up here?”
