The Devil Owns the Night Ch. 06

The ring leader turned to him again, drawing his face closer to his so he could perceive the scent of fresh mint on his breath. "Listen here, smart ass. We're not here to dick around. You know what the fuck we want—the diamond collar. We want it now. Give it to us and we'll leave you alone."

"I don't know of any diamond collar," said Thad.

"The hell you do. It was in that safe hole under that bitch's bed. She said she gave it to you. Now hand it over."

Thad was listening to his words, everything going to the back of his mind, but his eyes was looking past his assailants and the dark figure that now appeared behind the French window beside his front door. His sixth sense was active; whoever the dark figure was wasn't there to set him free, he knew that as certainly as he knew his own name. In a matter of seconds now things were going to get ugly.

"I'll tell you where I've got the collar hidden," he smiled at the ring leader, then indicated with his chin at the door. "But it looks like someone's already beaten you boys to it."

At that moment the figure kicked his front door open. A gunshot rang out.

***

Blondie opened his car door and slammed it back and stood against it, holding his gun in his hand while his eyes looked here and there of the neighbourhood street. There were few people walking on it and he doubt any had taken notice of him. This was happening as the two hoodlums led Thaddeus into his home. The third hoodlum observed Blondie crossing the street, heading in the direction where the other two had fought with Thad and pressed his hand on the car horn but to no avail. He wanted to get down and go after Blondie but reckoned his colleagues would take care of him ... if actually he was headed in that direction.

Blondie approached Thad's home and stayed with his back against the wall. He heard the sound of over voices inside the living room but paid it little mind. His aim was to get at the bastard Thaddeus Black once and for all. He peeked in through the French window beside the front door and saw the two hooded men staring down at his impending target. Unable to keep his patience any further, he stood in front of the door, brought up his right foot and kicked down at it.

The door flew open before him and slammed against the side with a loud crash, startling the two trench coat men in the room; he caught his impending target already about making a move to escape his sight. He came forward into the living room with his gun aimed straight ahead, his finger pulled at the trigger.

***

Thaddeus pictured Blondie crashing into the room a few seconds before he did, at about the same time he indicated with his chin at the doorway for the hooded ring leader to follow. The man was distracted by this, and the sound of the front door crashing in further too his eyes away from Thaddeus, was had now half gotten up from the couch, but instead of going after them, pivoted on his heels and pushed himself backward against the top of the couch and flipped himself over on his back. Blondie caught the move he was making a few seconds too late and let go a shot at him. The bullet missed Thaddeus by two feet from his face, by which time he was falling backward, taking the couch with him.

The ring leader stood there startled by Blondie's uninvited presence, and raised his gun at the intruder and fired. The bullet grazed Blondie's right arm and he gave out a loud cry at the same time flung himself to the side, crumbling to the floor. His gun skittered to the floor and a bullet went off and imbedded itself at the foot of another couch. The ring leader's second—Kellogg—was inches from being hit by the second bullet. He aimed his gun at Blondie but first glanced outside and saw a light come on in the apartment building right next to Thad's. He whistled at his ring leader; it was time they split. The ring leader went with his gesture and together they scampered out the front door and ran in the direction of the where their car awaited them.

Thad sneaked his head from behind the couch, holding his small hand pistol which he had retrieved from his ankle holster in his hand. He looked out the side, saw the writhing form that was his erstwhile nemesis, Blondie. He was clutching his arm at the same time shouting vituperations of curses at the hooded figured who had shot him. Thad came out of his hiding place and heard the sound of a car speeding out into the night. He came forward, first kicked Blondie's gun across the room so he wouldn't get at it and ran out his damaged front door. He caught the sight of Artie's front door coming open and saw someone coming out of it but he was hurrying faster out the driveway towards the sound of the speeding vehicle whose tires were still squealing away. He got to the road seconds late in time to see the red lights of the vehicle turn a sharp right and vanish from view. Few heads walking the street stared in the same direction as him and they too muttered curse words at the devil behind the wheel of the car that had raced away from view. The car's burnt rubber lined the path of the vehicle from where it had lay parked. Thad heard approaching feet and turned around with his gun aimed forward but turned his gun sight away when he recognised the familiar figure that was Artie dressed in his pyjamas, heaving like one who'd just ran a distant race, cradling a short gun in his arm.

"Artie?" he was just as surprised to see him. "The hell—"

"I heard gunshots," Artie was gasping with fright livid on his features. "Who were those guys?"

Then Thad remembered Blondie and he raced past his neighbour back to his home. He got there in time to see Blondie up on his feet, struggling with his injured arm. He was looking around for where his gun was at when Thad stepped back into his living room. Without breaking stride, he threw a punch at Blondie. The punch connected with his cheek bone and Blondie took a second tumble to the floor.

"You remain there, bitch!" Thad warned him, pointing his hand gun at his head. Blondie remained as he was, clutching his arm which was staining the carpet and floor with blood. His face was pale and sweaty, his features grimaced from the pain he was having.

"I'm fucking bleeding here, you black bastard!" Blondie shouted at him. "Call me a fucking ambulance, you hear me!"

Thad went and pushed back up the fallen couch from which he had tumbled from, though still keeping a sharp eye on Blondie. "The fuck you think your ass needs an ambulance for once I've put a bullet into that skull of yours? You'd better stop that bleeding of yours, or else I'll open a second hole in you."

There came the sound of hurrying feet and there was Artie standing at his doorway gazing into his living room. His eyes flared wide when he took in the form of Blondie lying on the floor gasping at the same time muttering curses at Thad. He was still clutching his shotgun to his chest when Thad turned around and saw him standing there and indicated for him to step inside.

"Hey there, Artie. Thanks for showing up when you did. Do me a favour and point that shotgun of yours at this bastard's head. If he moves or even blinks an eye, shoot him."

Artie did as he asked while Thad went and picked up Blondie's gun from the direction he had kicked it at. He returned to join them and grabbed Blondie's other arm and pulled him up from the ground and dropped him on a couch.

"I told Erica to call the cops," said Artie, still aiming his gun at Blondie. "You okay, Thad?"

Thad nodded his head, smiled at him. "Just glad you ain't aiming that gun at me."

He gave Thad a wry smile. "Don't get to smiling yet. You and I still have a bone to pick once this is over."

"I hear ya. Just let me get a rope to tie this bastard up with so he'd stop bleeding in my house."

***

Thad hated the sound of police sirens, especially when they were journeying towards where trouble had long already calmed down or left. He sat in his living room staring at the spot where his former TV set used to occupy with the bastard who had wrecked it seated on a separate couch beside him, weak and still moaning from the pain in his arm but grateful now that Thad had wrapped a torn cloth around his injured arm to stem down the blood flow. Artie had gone back to his apartment to calm down Erica. A lot of people were stumbling out of their apartment houses upon hearing the irritating music of the police siren breaking their evening quietness. Thad felt really like smoking a cigarette, expect he'd long quit smoking.

He looked out his front window and saw the police revolving lights come to a stop in front of his driveway. It sounded as if the entire department had listened in on the phone call Erica had made and had journeyed all the way down here to watch how a private detective catches a bullet. He got up and went to his door and pushed it open when he heard the marching sound of a couple of shoes approaching his doorstep.

The first face Thad met was a familiar one to him, and seeing the man's face brought a warming smile to his lips.

"Chief Lieutenant Wallace, how nice to see you after all these months." Thad shook hands with the old man in a trilby hat, wearing a dark overcoat buttoned to his collar which was his customary way of dressing whenever he was out of the office, which in the past year was quite few. He was from New England, though he had that clipped sort of voice one was easy to mistake him for an Englishman. His moustache was grey, the same as was his hair, and it fell downward over his lips. He and Thad went way back.

"Nice to see you still alive and kicking, Thad. I guess you've met with Snyder already?" he turned his head to his left shoulder and coming in from the driveway was the dreaded feature of the lead detective trailing behind a couple of uniformed cops who were keeping the pressing crowd of neighbouring onlookers at bay. To Thad it looked as if a circus had come to town.

"How're you doing, Low Brow," Thad said to him as he leaned his scowling face into his living room.

Snyder muttered an indecipherable oath under his breath. His eyes surveyed the state of his living room before going to the young blonde man who sat slumped on the couch in front of him. "The hell happened here, Thad? You shoot up a drug dealer or, let me guess, you slept with the wrong man's woman and he came by to get even." He snickered at his bland humour.

"No, actually it was your wife, Snyder," Thad replied matter-of-factly. "She was a wild lion in bed."

Snyder made a lunge at him but his boss held him aside. "Enough!" Wallace's curt voice cut through the nonsense. Snyder gave Thad a baleful look before turning away from them. "What happened here, Thad?" asked Wallace.

Thaddeus explained everything to them, about the two hoodlums who had tried jumping him an hour ago before coming to narrated Blondie's Clint Eastwood-style barging entrance into his home and of gunshots ranging out before the hoods had taken off.

"Lucky for you, Thad," said Snyder cynically. "Too bad that bullet missed its mark."

"Don't worry, Low Brow. Maybe next time I'll remember to mail you a picture so you can hang up your wall."

Wallace sighed and had to break them up once again. Snyder took Blondie's gun from him, dumped it in a nylon bag, then called over two uniformed cops to help escort Blondie out to a waiting squad car. There were news hounds canvasing the area, all them waving cameras and holding microphones in their hands as if searching for clues. Wallace closed the front door now he and Thad were alone with each other.

"All the efforts I've made, I see nothing's ever going to get you and Snyder on easy terms again," he said.

"Only way that might happen is if the end of the world comes knocking," Thad answered. "Anyway, it ain't my fault the bastard don't want to let bygones be bygones. I guess that's what got you out of your office today. You wanted to calm his dog down."

"It's his case, Thad. Nothing I can do about it. Yes, when I got the word that it was your place such shooting happened, I thought I'd come along if by chance he made things difficult for you. But aside from that, I wanted to know you were alright."

"That's pretty generous of you, Chief. How's Mrs. Wallace, by the way?"

"Still pushing forty and looking younger than my old ass any day. She asks about you a lot. So does your old chummy back at the office, Greg. You know he's soon to be retiring."

"Yeah, he told me about it the last time I dropped by. I'm surprised you're still sticking around."

"My time is coming," mused Wallace. "Just sitting down pushing papers till whenever I get the last call." He gave him an amusing smile. "Tell me one thing, what's the beef about you always calling Snyder 'Low Brow'? Where the hell did that come from?"

Thad laughed at the memory. "That's what his ex-wife, Mirren, used to call him whenever they made love. She said he always liked being on top and whenever he'd cum, his face would knot together like he was taking a crap."

Wallace exploded with laughter. His shoulders shook and his hat almost fell from his head while he continued to quake with humour. He took his handkerchief from his shirt pocket and dabbed at his eyes as his laughter slowly died off. "That's totally wicked, Thad. And how did you come by this solid bit of info?"

"I hooked up with the wife weeks after they'd made plans of getting divorced. Snyder got to hear about it and since then he's got it after me, saying that I was the reason things didn't work out between them. Though Mirren and I hooked up by accident. I never knew whose wife she was until afterwards. You don't go asking every older woman you meet in a club whom her ex was. Not like she was sporting a ring then, after all."

"That's quite an irony. But I've got to ask, how the fuck do you get to be such a damn magnet for women, Thad? You got some addiction they can't get over?"

Thad shrugged with amusement at the thought of this question. All the wives want is the black dick, and that's it! This was what he wanted to say, but chose not to. "Can't say nothing to that, Chief. I'm a lonely guy searching for a good time, and I guess that's what they ladies want as well."

"How charming of you. Now, back to business. These two hoods you said attacked you here, you said they asked about some cat's diamond collar ..."

It was then that Thad remembered Elsa. "Shit! Hold on to that thought, Chief." He went searching for the cat first in the kitchen, then he went looking in his bedroom. He found Elsa hiding cowering inside his wardrobe, looking as if she found some mice running around in there. Thad picked up the cat and brought her over to present to the Chief of Detectives. Wallace held the cat in his hands, patted its fur before handing her back to Thad as if scared it might scratch him.

"Cute kitty," he remarked. "I guess this is the reason for your troubles. Now I've read through Snyder's report. He wasn't happy seeing you at Alice Goldstone's apartment when he arrived there to question her. I've got to ask this, Thad. Is there anything of this that you're hiding?"

"What makes you think I'd be hiding anything, Chief?" asked Thad, petting Elsa.

"You were at the victim's home before he arrived there, and according to him, he'd only just gotten the call twenty minutes ago. I'm finding it hard wondering how you came to be involved in this when it's obvious you had no connection whatsoever with Alice or her kidnapped friend. Or am I missing something here?"

"I can't tell you anything right now, Chief. Client confidentiality and all of that, if you know what I mean. But I'll tell you what, sir. Give me twenty-four hours and I'll tell you everything I know."

"What? You going to bust this case in the next twenty-four hours, or are you going to skip town before those two hoods show up at your door again?"

"I ain't got nowhere to run, Chief, and I ain't ever scared of no hoods. Especially clumsy ones. But I just might bust the case before Low Brow does."

Chief Wallace laughed. "That I would like to see happen. Alright Thad, you've got twenty-four. I'll hold Snyder off your back until then. Just don't go calling him that to his face. I wouldn't be responsible if he decides to take a crack at you."

Ten minutes later he dropped Elsa behind and escorted the Chief back to his car parked near the entrance of his driveway. He saw the lights in Artie's place still on and thought he saw someone peeking through a window blind but couldn't tell whose face it was. Several news vans were still parked outside with revolving bright lights trying to get past the cordoned area the cops had marked off; the crowd of onlookers, much of them blocking the street from passing cars, were still there though a lot of them had dispersed. There was still a lot of noise and chatter going about.

Wallace turned the Thad before he entered his car and said, "I'd find someplace else to rest my head if I were you. Not unless you want these clowns banging at your door till morning. Take care of yourself, Thad. Stay safe."

Thad had already made his mind up on that, and he thought he knew the best person to check on first. He went back into his pad, closed the door from the bright hovering lights outside and turned the lock. He went into the kitchen to fetch Elsa's snack food as well as her bowl and poured some snack for her then went in search of a jotting pad and pen. He found one and wrote the name JOHN 'KELLOGG' on the fresh page. He remembered the ring leader who'd aimed the gun at his face had called out both names. A good thing he had; now at least he had somewhere to start from. He tore off the paper and folded it into his pocket.

He went into his bedroom and was in the middle of taking off his clothes when he heard his doorbell ring. He ignored it, thinking it was probably one of the press people who'd escaped the police checkpoint and now wanted to hear his side of whatever had happened. He threw his shirt on the bed and was taking off his pants when his cell phone started ringing. He recognised the number that was calling him and a look of surprise came on his face as his phone kept ringing. He hadn't been expecting such call till tomorrow, how come—

"Hello, Constance," he said it as if still in disbelief that she was calling him right now with her actual number. That could only mean ...

"Hello, Thad, darling," her voice sounded tired. "Are you in? I'm at your doorstep right now."

"Gimme a second," he said, before hanging up.