Read Online A Bullet Apiece by John Joseph Ryan - Free Book Online
Authors: John Joseph Ryan
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these days.â
âIsnât it? Well, I think weâre through here. Iâll have my wife phone you in the morning. Meekiââ
âWhy donât I just talk to her now? Since Iâm out here and all.â
âI donât think so, Mr. Darvis. Youâve already overstayed your
un
welcome.â
âNot hardly. Can I get a drink for the road? Long way back to the city, you know.â
Hanady hesitated. His youthfulness arose in a flush. My guess was he thought he could put a little muscle on me and clear me out.
âIâm afraid I donât drink, Mr. Darvis.â
âThatâs funny, because your wife saidââ
âYou sure seem to know us well.â He must have given some signal to Meeki, which I missed. Just as I began to swell with professional pride, and was about to brag, when the back of my head exploded in pain, the room went sideways, and I felt my chin hit the desk. The last thing I remember is Hanadyâs face leering at me as he got up onto the desk, then his fist rearing back. Then it was lights out.
Chapter 6
The Lady (Ainât) From Shanghai
I woke up on my back. All I could make out were fuzzy, dark trees above my head, which felt like it was glued to the gravel beneath me. I tried to sit up, but quickly gave up that idea. Nice and easy, Ed, I told myself, as I raised one of my hands and felt the back of my head. My own precious, sticky blood. I put my hand back down on my chest. All I wanted to do was close my eyes. They felt as if they were weighted with bowling balls. Donât pass out, I told myself.
After a couple of minutes, I tried to sit up again, managing only to raise my head enough to see my .38 laying in my lap. The stem of a dying iris stuck out of the short barrel. Nice touch. I tossed the flower aside. Wincing as I sat up, I opened the gun chamber. It was empty. Of course. I looked around and found my binoculars, the lenses smashed. Meeki probably did that with a big toe. I patted my pants pocket for my wallet. It was there. Not moving my head, I pulled my wallet, brought it up to my face, and stuck my fingers inside. Meeki was nice enough to leave me my money.
I moved my jaw back and forth. Sore, but not broken. Hanady sure didnât have the Meeki strength. I tried to orient myself.
Hey, my car.
I reached up and grabbed the passenger door handle and pulled myself up. Much too fast. I retched into the gravel.Orange pulp for the ants. At least the burger wasnât bugging me anymore. I panted and spat, leaning against the door, as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. After a few minutes, I managed to walk gingerly around to the driverâs side, using the car for support. It was still night.
Once inside, I leaned my head against the steering wheel and breathed. I raised up and peered into the dome-lit rearview mirror. My left jaw was swollen, purplish and pounding. I swayed my jaw from side to side. âYou are
sooo
good lookinâ,â I told my ghastly reflection.
Just then, I remembered Officer Frederick. Even though I wanted nothing more than to go home and flop onto my own bed, I thought Iâd better check on him. I started the Chevy, turned around, and pulled a short distance up the driveway. No sign of Frederickâs cruiser. And no lights on in the house. It was time to do some hard thinking, and Iâd need a little help to do it. I took Route 40 back into town, my car mixed in with a few tired-looking interstate travelers. I stayed in my lane. Mostly.
Sorry, bud
. I waved at the car as it passed. The driver mouthed âfuck youâ as he gave me the bird. Such redundancy. At the first exit that looked reasonably seedy, I pulled off and found an all-night liquor store.
Later, walking into my apartment, I half expected to see it destroyed. Beat up the private eye and toss his apartment. Send him hate mail, too. But the inside was the sameâalthough the sight of the orange peels on the table
âIsnât it? Well, I think weâre through here. Iâll have my wife phone you in the morning. Meekiââ
âWhy donât I just talk to her now? Since Iâm out here and all.â
âI donât think so, Mr. Darvis. Youâve already overstayed your
un
welcome.â
âNot hardly. Can I get a drink for the road? Long way back to the city, you know.â
Hanady hesitated. His youthfulness arose in a flush. My guess was he thought he could put a little muscle on me and clear me out.
âIâm afraid I donât drink, Mr. Darvis.â
âThatâs funny, because your wife saidââ
âYou sure seem to know us well.â He must have given some signal to Meeki, which I missed. Just as I began to swell with professional pride, and was about to brag, when the back of my head exploded in pain, the room went sideways, and I felt my chin hit the desk. The last thing I remember is Hanadyâs face leering at me as he got up onto the desk, then his fist rearing back. Then it was lights out.
Chapter 6
The Lady (Ainât) From Shanghai
I woke up on my back. All I could make out were fuzzy, dark trees above my head, which felt like it was glued to the gravel beneath me. I tried to sit up, but quickly gave up that idea. Nice and easy, Ed, I told myself, as I raised one of my hands and felt the back of my head. My own precious, sticky blood. I put my hand back down on my chest. All I wanted to do was close my eyes. They felt as if they were weighted with bowling balls. Donât pass out, I told myself.
After a couple of minutes, I tried to sit up again, managing only to raise my head enough to see my .38 laying in my lap. The stem of a dying iris stuck out of the short barrel. Nice touch. I tossed the flower aside. Wincing as I sat up, I opened the gun chamber. It was empty. Of course. I looked around and found my binoculars, the lenses smashed. Meeki probably did that with a big toe. I patted my pants pocket for my wallet. It was there. Not moving my head, I pulled my wallet, brought it up to my face, and stuck my fingers inside. Meeki was nice enough to leave me my money.
I moved my jaw back and forth. Sore, but not broken. Hanady sure didnât have the Meeki strength. I tried to orient myself.
Hey, my car.
I reached up and grabbed the passenger door handle and pulled myself up. Much too fast. I retched into the gravel.Orange pulp for the ants. At least the burger wasnât bugging me anymore. I panted and spat, leaning against the door, as I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. After a few minutes, I managed to walk gingerly around to the driverâs side, using the car for support. It was still night.
Once inside, I leaned my head against the steering wheel and breathed. I raised up and peered into the dome-lit rearview mirror. My left jaw was swollen, purplish and pounding. I swayed my jaw from side to side. âYou are
sooo
good lookinâ,â I told my ghastly reflection.
Just then, I remembered Officer Frederick. Even though I wanted nothing more than to go home and flop onto my own bed, I thought Iâd better check on him. I started the Chevy, turned around, and pulled a short distance up the driveway. No sign of Frederickâs cruiser. And no lights on in the house. It was time to do some hard thinking, and Iâd need a little help to do it. I took Route 40 back into town, my car mixed in with a few tired-looking interstate travelers. I stayed in my lane. Mostly.
Sorry, bud
. I waved at the car as it passed. The driver mouthed âfuck youâ as he gave me the bird. Such redundancy. At the first exit that looked reasonably seedy, I pulled off and found an all-night liquor store.
Later, walking into my apartment, I half expected to see it destroyed. Beat up the private eye and toss his apartment. Send him hate mail, too. But the inside was the sameâalthough the sight of the orange peels on the table
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