Page 30 of Hanging and Burning

“I told ’em that I’d come in later in the week to fill out the forms.”

“How’d he take that?”

“Okay, I think. I said I wanted to talk to a lawyer and a doctor before knowing what actions to take.”

“That’ll work. If the guy got shot don’t die, you’ll be home in New York before the cops would even think about comin’ back at ya. And, with no complaint from you, and them shooting first, they won’t want to follow it up.”

“How did you get them to come in on us?” I asked the friendly brute.

When the hired gun sat back in the chair, it occurred to me that his posture reminded me of the image of some ancient wrestler at rest and cast in black bronze.

“We went right over to the Silver Lake address, checked it out, and decided that the best way to ensure your safety when they grabbed you was to get the cops to do our work for us. Chin knew a dispatcher who could get a tactical team out right away.”

“What if they decided to kill me as soon as I walked in?”

“I would’a shot ’em.”

“Shot ’em from where?”

“There was a closet behind the wall on the north side of the room they would most probably use. I got in there and nailed the door shut from the inside. After that I bored a tiny hole in the wall so I could see and hear what they planned. That way I could shoot through the plaster if I had to.”

“What if they took me somewhere else?”

“My partners could see and hear everything I could. If plans needed to change up, then they would.”

Intrigued by the inventive subterfuge, I asked, “What if they pried your door open?”

“That wouldn’t have ended well… for them.”

“They could’a still shot me on the spur of the moment,” I suggested.

“True,” Bob said, pouting with his lower lip. “But I knew from what they said that they were planning to get you to tell the truth about why you were talking to the boss.”

“They say who the boss was?”

“A guy named Lamming.”

“How long were you gonna wait till you did something?” This was a professional inquiry.

“If I had to break through the wall I’d’a have to shoot most of them, maybe kill one or two. I didn’t think that was the kinda thing you’d want.”

“And you just waited till everyone was gone before you got outta there?”

“I have sometimes waited for days.”

I took a silent moment to express my admiration.

“What do I owe you?” I asked.

“Nothing. This was a professional courtesy.”

“Are you still on me?”

“No. Word from back east was that it was no longer necessary.”

I stood from my chair and so did Bob. After we clenched hands, he departed.

Anything can be a weapon: a camera, a word, a night of passion, a secret either told or kept, even an unknown gunman hidden behind a wall.