Copyright © 2003 Leon Altman. All rights reserved. 

    I stood off to the left side of the pool table, watching as my friend Reggie shot the eight ball in the right hand corner pocket. Christ.

    "Another game Jack?"

    "Yeah, rack them up."

    He ran his hand through his red hair and grabbed the rack. I saw a man out of the corner of my eye run into the bar, breathing heavily. He was shorter than me, about 5'11" with short cropped hair that framed his ebony complexion. He took a deep breath, adjusted his leather jacket, then shouted "is Jack Harmon here?"

    I narrowed my eyes and put my pool cue down. "Yeah."

    "I gotta talk to you. Right now. Please, come outside."

    I shrugged my shoulders and followed him through the door. "What's wrong?"

    "My son's been kidnapped." He stood in front of the tavern and I put my hands in my coat pockets.

    "I'll do whatever I can. Maybe we should go to the police."

    "No. We can't. I was told to find you. No cops or my son is dead."

    "You know who they are?"

    "The man said you know him. He would only give me his first name. Viggie."

    Oh for Christ sakes. Viggie Russo is head of a crime syndicate in New Jersey. He smuggles diamonds. A few months ago, I killed one of his men - Mike Morg - when he came after me with a knife. I was investigating the murder of a college student and discovered that Mike killed him because he caught Mike skimming from Viggie.

    "I know him. It's Viggie Russo."

    "The mobster. Why the hell did he kidnap my son?"

    I pressed my lips together and took a deep breath. "Does your son go to Seaton Hall University?"

    "Yes."

    "So does Viggie's daughter, Victoria Russo."

    His shoulders sagged and his mouth hung open. "I met her. They were going out. But my son said that he broke up with her about two weeks ago."

    "Probably a lot more to that Mr.-"

    "Henderson. George Henderson. My son's name is Alan."

    "Okay. I think I know where they are." I looked at my watch and saw that it was 2:00. "I'll see what's going on. In the meantime, go see a friend of mine at the 23rd precinct. His name is John Morgan."

    "They said no cops."

    "Just go. He's in charge of homicide. He'll know what to do."

    "I hope that nothing happens to my son."

    "I'll do what I can."

    Half an hour later, I walked inside Angel's, Viggie's Strip Club. Frankie Vallone sat at the bar with a drink in his hand. He had dark hair with a three quarter inch part, broad shoulders, and biceps that were the size of grapefruits. He glared at me and took a sip of his drink.

    "They're upstairs."

    "How come you're down here?"

    "I've been demoted. Viggie has a new right hand man now."

    I licked my lips and raised my eyebrows. "How come?"

    "Because he couldn't protect Viggie," a woman's voice said.

    I turned and saw a red headed woman sitting on the other side of the bar. She looked hot in red: tight red sweater that displayed her large breasts; red leather skirt that was about six inches above her knees; and red nylons that displayed her long shapely legs and red pumps.

    "Shut the hell up," Frankie shouted.

    "Careful Frankie," the woman said. "Viggie's really pissed right now."

    He grabbed his drink, walked past me and stepped outside.

    I ran up the stairs and saw a door that was ajar. I opened it and stepped inside.

    Viggie was behind his oak desk, smiling. His brown thinning hair was combed to the left side in a poor attempt to cover a widows peak. There were several red lines that ran from his bulbous nose down to his face.

    "Hello Jack."

    I looked at him, then looked at the two men on the black couch. George Henderson's son, Alan, sat next to a blond haired man. His son was short, with a bald head, dark eyes, a small nose, and a complexion that was nearly the color of coffee. The other man: tall, thin, blond hair, blue eyes, with a scar above his left eye.

    "Wanna tell me what this is all about?"

Viggie held up some 8-1/2 by 11 sheet of papers. "Death threats. Two of these came by e-mail."

    I took them from his hand and flipped through the pages. How does it feel to know that you’re gonna die soon. One day, you’ll find a knife in your back.

    "The third one was put under my pillow in my house," Viggie said.

    That one said next time this could be a hand grenade. I put the notes on his desk and shook my head. "Lots of people want to kill you Viggie."

    "Yeah, but a lot of people don’t know my e-mail address. One note was slipped under my door. Another was in my bathroom."

    "And you think Alan did this?"

    "I told him to stop dating her." He wiped perspiration off his forehead with the back of his hand. "My daughter knows my e-mail address. For all I know, he could have made copies of my daughter’s keys-"

    "I didn’t do it," Alan screamed.

    "Then who did?" Viggie yelled.

    "Viggie," I said, "you have a lot of enemies. You’ve been in an ongoing battle with Carlito Pompano now."

    "It ain’t him."

    "Okay. Who’s the babe downstairs with Frankie?"

    "That’s my girl," the blond haired man said.

    "This your new right hand man Viggie?"

    "Yeah." He pressed his lips between his teeth. "His name is Sam Norris. Black belt in karate."

    "That’s supposed to scare me."

    "Harmon, you just tell me who could be doing this."

    "How long have you been going out with that girl Sam?" I asked.

    "About a month. But she doesn’t know our business."

    "She looked familiar. And she has a big mouth. And I think that I saw her in a courtroom. If I did, then it’s because I testified against someone." I looked at Viggie. "Maybe some of your men."

    "Viggie stood up and walked over to the stairs. "Brenda. Come up here for a second."

    Viggie walked back to his desk and Brenda appeared on the top of the steps. "What is it?"

    I grabbed the notes and gave them to her. She looked at them and tried not to smile.

    "You write those notes?" I asked.

    "Nope." A small smile appeared on her lips.

    "Well, right now, Viggie thinks that Alan wrote them. And he’s going to kill him because he thinks that he did it."

    She stared at Alan; his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. "Is this true?" She asked Sam.

    "Yeah. Harmon thinks he saw you in a courtroom. You got something to say."

    I looked at her hair more closely and saw black roots in her red hair. Then I remembered. "Yeah. You’re Brenda Naughton. Your parents owned a hardware store. They had to declare bankruptcy because your brother owed money to Viggie, but we couldn’t prove it."

    "You have a good memory," Brenda replied angrily. "All I got was the house. My brother couldn’t live with himself and he committed suicide. My father got a stroke." She glared at Viggie. "All because you had to involve them in stolen goods in order to make up for my brother’s debts."

    "Your brother gambled and lost money."

    "And you made sure that he got addicted," she screamed. "You didn’t have to involve my parents in this."

    Viggie stood up and walked towards her. "So you sent me those notes."

    "That’s right you rotten bastard. The police couldn’t put you away but I’ll do everything I can to make your life miserable. I loved watching you squirm."

    "Well, now you’re gonna die for it." He slapped her in the face and knocked her to the ground.

    I grabbed Viggie by the shoulder, and turned him around, then threw a right to his jaw. He staggered back and I slammed a front kick into his face. He went over the desk and on to the floor.

    "Doesn’t feel too good, does it?" I said.

    Sam stood up and ambled over to me. "You’re gonna pay for that Harmon."

    "Let’s see what you got, black belt."

    He spun to his right and threw a round kick. I ducked under his foot and threw my foot towards his knee. He fell to the ground and rolled to the side.

    I moved towards him as he stood up. "Not bad Harmon." He threw a right to my jaw and I blocked it with my left hand. I snapped a right to his face and he rammed me into the wall. I put my hand on his throat, then slammed my head into the bridge of his nose. He screamed in pain and fell to the ground.

    I picked him up by his red shirt and threw a right to his jaw. His body quivered and his knees buckled. I spun and threw a round kick to his chin. He fell on to a chair before crashing to the floor, unconscious.

    "Come on Alan, let’s go."

    "Thank you Mr. Harmon."

    "Call me Jack."

    "Thank you," Brenda said.

    "If it wasn’t for you, none of this would have happened," I answered. "What the hell did you think you were doing?"

    "I scared the hell out of Viggie. That’s what counts."

    "I may not be here the next time. You could have been killed."

    "I don’t really care." She turned and walked down the stairs. Alan and I followed her.

    "So you sent those notes," Frankie said. He sat at the bar with a drink in his hand.

    She shrugged her shoulders, then spat in Frankie’s face. "That’s for what you did to my family."

    He jumped off the barstool, but stopped when he saw me. "You better get her out of here Harmon."

    "You’re nothing but a coward," She yelled.

    I grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out the door with Alan following behind me.

    Once we were outside, I let go of her arm and stared at her dark eyes. "I’m sorry about what happened to your family. You want to have a death wish, then that’s fine also. But today, you almost got someone else killed. And these guys won’t go away."

    "Go to hell."

    "Hey," Alan shouted, "he’s right."

    "Yeah, well both of you can go to hell." She turned and walked toward a cab at the corner. "Have a nice life."

    "Let it go Brenda."

    She turned her head and smiled. "Never. This is only the beginning." I watched her hips swing as she stepped into the cab.

    "Are you okay?" I asked Alan.

    "Yeah." He pressed his lips together and shook his head. "You know, I really loved Victoria but her father didn’t want me going out with her -"

    "She’s not good enough for you Alan. And her father’s a thug who belongs in jail. You think you want to testify against him?"

    "I don’t know. I think he’ll get out of it somehow. People like that always do."

    "I know."

    He sniffled and bit his lower lip. "I really love Victoria. I know that she wants to go out with me."

    "Let it go Alan. Come on, you’re father’s worried. I’ll take you home."

    I led him to my blue Honda civic, then grabbed my cell phone. I called John Morgan’s direct number and got him on the second ring."

    "John, it’s Jack."

    "Everything okay?"

    "Yeah. Alan is with me now."

    "His father is here." He cleared his throat. "Let me tell him."

    "Okay. You gonna arrest Viggie for this?"

    "For kidnapping. Sure. Is the kid going to testify."

    "I don’t know. I’ll testify though."

    "Okay. Tell me what happened."

    I told him everything about Brenda and the death threats. He listened, then said "Okay, I’ll send a car down later and bring Viggie in for questioning."

    "Thanks."

    Two hours later – after bringing Alan home - I was back in Willie’s playing pool again with Reggie. I stood to the side and watched him shoot the nine ball in the corner pocket when my cell phone rang again. I grabbed it and saw John Morgan’s number on the caller ID.

    "Jack, you’ve got some explaining to do."

    I narrowed my eyes, cocking my head. "What are you talking about?"

    "Viggie’s dead. So is Sam Norris, his right hand man. Someone shot them."

    "You know it wasn’t me."

    "I know that," John snapped. "What about that girl, Brenda? You said that she took a cab home."

    "Yeah."

    "Maybe she didn’t go home. Maybe she had a gun in her purse."

    Christ. "Maybe you’re right. Look, let me go down to her home. She said that she’s living in her parent’s home now."

    "We were already there. She wasn’t home."

    I bobbed my head and stared at the ceiling.

    "I’m gonna question Mr. Henderson and his son. Both of them were pretty mad when they left here."

    "I don’t know John."

    "The kid said that he loved Victoria."

    "He told me the same thing. I can’t believe that he would kill Viggie just to be back with Victoria."

    "Look, Jack, leave everything to us now. We’ll figure this out. Okay."

    "Yeah. Yeah. Yeah."

    "Good. I’ll let you know what happens." He hung up and I started to walk back to my table. The only thought going through my mind was how did Brenda or the kid get the drop on Viggie and Sam. Then I stopped and closed my eyes. Oh, for Christ sakes.

    I heard a woman crying when I got off the elevator. I drew closer to the sobs and stared at apartment 4R. I aimed my Smith and Wesson, fired, then kicked the door in. I ran inside, pointing my gun at Frankie Vallone.

    Brenda’s hands were cuffed to the bedpost. Her sweater was ripped open and her leather skirt was on the floor. Frankie Vallone stood over her in his white T-shirt and gray pants, smiling. I saw his gun in its holster hung up on a coat hanger near me.

    "So, you killed Viggie and Sam?"

    "Yeah. I did. Viggie should have known better than to humiliate me like that. Make Sam his right hand man. All because this stupid bitch sent him a couple of e-mails.

    I walked into the room, pointing the gun at Frankie. "Move away from the girl."

    He drew a knife from his pocket and put it to her chest. "Go ahead, shoot me and I kill the girl."

    I took a deep breath and pointed the gun to the ground.

    "Good. Now drop it."

    I did and kicked it over to the right side of the room. "Now take the knife away from the girl."

    He took the knife away from the Brenda and walked towards me. "I’m gonna kill you Harmon."

    "Anytime you’re ready Frankie"

    He swung his knife and I moved back. Then he threw his hand in an arc with the knife and I grabbed his wrist. He groaned and tried to move his knife to my nose. I grabbed his shirt, turned to my side, and flipped him over my shoulder. He fell to the floor and the knife went towards the bed.

    "It’s all over Frankie."

    He stood up and rammed me into wall. I slammed the open palm of my hands over his ears as hard as I could. He screamed in pain and I slammed a knee in his stomach. Then I grabbed him by his shoulders, threw a right to his jaw, followed by a backfist to the other side of his jaw and he staggered back to the coat hanger with his gun. He wiped blood from his mouth and went for it. "I’ll kill you Harmon if it’s the last thing I do."

    I dove for my gun by the wall, grabbed it and pointed it at him. He fired and the bullet hit the wall above my head. I aimed for his stomach and fired. The bullet went into his stomach and he fell to the ground.

Contact the Author - laltman4@nyc.rr.com