The Steel Kiss

“Come on, please.” Nick wasn’t going to give Kall the I’m-innocent speech. A shield like this’d never believe it and it’d only rile him up more.

Kall turned to Von, who was concentrating—way too much—on his salad.

“And who is your little friend here? What’s your name?”

Von swallowed, looking guilty as sin. “Jimmy Shale.”

“Whatta you do for a living, Jimmy?”

“Can you ask me that?”

“I can ask you what you beat off to at night. I can ask you where your boyfriend likes you to kiss him. I can ask—”

“General contracting and construction.”

“For who?”

“A bunch of companies.”

“Most guys I ask, they give me a straight answer. They say Helmsley or Franklyn Development. You say a bunch of people.”

“Well, Officer—”

“Detective.”

Von was leaning back and staring up coldly now, attitude flowing from his eyes. “Well, Officer Detective, the fact is I work for a lot of people. Because I’m good at my job and a lot of people want me. And I’m not real happy, the way you’re talking to me.”

“Really? And your happiness counts why, Jimmy?”

Nick’d been thinking the worst that could happen was that the cop would find Von’s gun, bust him and then word would get back to Nick’s PO that they’d been together and there’d be a hearing and Nick might very well get his ass kicked back inside for the violation. But there was one step past worse: Von would decide Kall had pushed him too far and would empty five blunt.38 slugs into the asshole detective’s body. No, four into his body and one into his face, just in case he was wearing a vest.

Nick tried, “Look, Detective, let’s just take this down a notch, okay? I’m—”

“Shut up, Carelli.” Leaning toward Von. “You, asshole. Lemme see some ID.”

“ID. ID. Sure.” Von, that weird grin on his face, wiped his fat lips with his napkin and placed it back in his lap. Then he started to reach for his pocket. “I’ll show you some fucking ID.”

Yes, he was going for his gun. Kall was dead.

And so was Nick.

He assessed angles. From the depth of the booth he couldn’t leap forward and wrestle the gun from Von’s hand. If he shouted to Kall that Von was armed, he’d be admitting he knew.

Von started to rise, hand near the piece.

“Detective!” Carelli started.

But just then a staticky voice crackled from Kall’s belt.

“All units. Ten thirty. Carjacking in progress. Four One Eight Fourth Avenue, Bay Ridge. Two black males, twenties, believed to be armed. Silver Toyota. Late model. No tags at this point.”

“Shit.” The cop was looking out the window. The address was virtually across the street.

He yanked the radio off his belt. “Detective Seven Eight Seven Five. At the scene of the ten thirty. Bay Ridge. Send backup. K.”

“Roger Seven Eight Seven Five. Two RMPs en route. ETA four minutes. K.”

Nick lost the rest of the transmission. The detective was headed outside, hand on his weapon. He pushed out the door, turned left and vanished from sight.

Freddy, head down, entered before the door closed. He stormed up to them. “Come on, you guys. Get out. Now!” He tossed two twenties on the table. Von leapt from the booth, Nick behind him, and they followed Freddy through the kitchen and out the back door into a pungent, trash-filled alley.

“This way.”

Nick said to Freddy, “You called it in? You did that?”

“Had to do something. Didn’t look good, whatever was going down. We gotta move, though. He’ll find out it was fake in about five minutes.”

“They’ll trace you,” Von said.

“A burner. Jesus, you think I was born yesterday?”

They walked into a backyard and kept going west. Freddy said, “Look for a gypsy cab. Not metered, a gypsy. The hell happened?”

“The shield recognized me,” Nick said. “Gave me some lip. Would’ve been okay…  Only, only our boy here’s got a piece.”

“Yeah, so?” Von was defensive.

Freddy turned on him, furious. “What? I told Art: No weapons. Period. My man here just got out.”

“Art didn’t say nothing to me. I don’t know. I was meeting some stranger in the Ridge. I’m not stupid.”

“Well, you’re stupid enough to get mandatoried one year in Rikers, for the piece. How’d that sit with you?”

“All right, all right.”

“He get your name?” Freddy asked Von.

“No,” Nick said. “But he’ll come back, looking. And he does have your descrip, Von. And he knows me. Ditch the piece. And I mean now. In the water.”

“These things cost money.”

Freddy said, “No. I don’t trust you. Give it to me. I’ll do it myself.”

“Man… ”

“You want me to call Art?”

“Shit.” He handed over the gun, which Freddy took in wad of tissue.

“It’s cold?” Freddy asked,

“Yeah, yeah, can’t be traced.”

Freddy asked, “You got the list, Nick?”

“Yeah.”

Freddy said, “Thanks for that, Von. But now, separate ways.”

“I didn’t get my meal.”

“Jesus.”

Von grimaced and started off along the dark sidewalk.

“I’m going to the bay, get rid of this.” Freddy tapped his pocket.

“Thanks, man…  You’re the best.”

“The list look good?”