Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Testing The Water

There was an odd smell I couldn't quite place as I entered the main room of the club. From the doorway I saw two pairs of legs sticking out of the gap the end of the bar. The legs were tangled and moving furiously around each other. I figured that maybe Harry was a little frisky since he split with Dora, had asked one of the barmaids to come in and "help with inventory" 'You tryin' to screw the cleanin' lady again Harry, ya sick fuck!' I hollered. No answer. I moved in closer, the grunting and scuffling more audible now. They sounded like they were really attacking each other. I stopped about thirty feet from the bar and decided this was not something I needed to see. I was about to turn and leave them to rut like fiends, when a distinctly un-female voice roared in pain. Then a choking, gurgling noise and a handful of laboured breaths....... Silence. 'Ok, not good' I thought. This wasn't the sort of thing you associated with harmless employer/employee slap and tickle sessions. I ran to the bar and peered over. Harry was crouched over the motionless body of a guy with long greasy hair, a goatee and blue denim jacket. 'Ok, now that's kinky' I said with a raised eyebrow. Harry looked up at me, sweating and dishevilled and laid a bloody knife on the bar top. It was what he used to cut the lemons for drinks. The body the knife had just been removed from was that of Bobby Cain, a psychotic small time pimp and dealer who maintained his foothold in the underworld with periodic acts of wanton, if localised violence. He had been a great deal of trouble to us in our enterprises in the past few months and was never willing to accept that we had no interest in cutting him in on what we had going. It looked like Harry had finally put this particular deal to bed.
'So, I see ya iced that fucker at last bro" I smirked as I ran my fingers absently about in the blood from the murder weapon . Harry stared balefully at me.
'Fuck yr comedy routines you ugly cocksucker, just get me a bucket of warm water and some towels so I can mop up what's left of Huggy Bear here.'
I did as I was asked, I could tell he was in no mood. Mr Cain's absence would not go un-noticed for too long, too many folk were dependent on him, and I'm not talking about his clientele or his girls. The cops cut him enough slack in return for info on some of the bigger fish in the pond. I had a nasty feeling Harry & I were about to graduate.......
'Oh, and a couple of laundry bags too. We're gonna have to cart this fucker off and give him a proper burial.....'
'How do you give a piece of shit like that a proper burial?' I asked
'Well,' continued Harry with a tone of rising impatience, 'we put him in the back of the van, drive upstate for a few hours, and then dump the little bitch in the deepest, darkest lake we can find, complete with enough ballast to make sure he never re-surfaces.
'Do we have a.........'
'The boat will meet us at 8pm. Any more questions?'
I was impressed. All sorted and the body wasn't even cold. It looked like it had all been planned, apart from my appearance. I hadn't been due in that day and it made sense that as few people be involved as possible. I was here now though and I fancied a bit of a trip out of town. Upstate was nice at this time of year, though the idea of sharing a van with a dead body didn't fill me with joy. Harry sat at the wheel of the van, the engine turning over gently while he stared trance like into the alleyway. I climbed in and immediately realised just how tense he was. After about a minute, we hadn't moved and I noticed his hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly that they were almost devoid of colour. I prised his hands off the wheel and opened the door for him.
'This ones mine, you've done the hard bit' I assured him as he climbed wearily from the vehicle.
The map was in the glove compartment and the cell phone would ring and three men would set sail for a new world in the dead of night. Poor Bobby wouldn't be making the return journey of course, we were dropping him off at his very own 'pool party for one'.
I'd heard he wasn't a very good swimmer..................


Some Chilean Woman said...

Oooh, that would make an awesome movie!

iLL Man said...

You got Tarantino's number? ;)

It would make, at best an amusing low budget short I think.