The suit snapped his fingers and one of his gorillas took the trench coat from his shoulders while he took a Partaga from his inside pocket and waited while another hulking thug clipped and lit it for him. He blew a thin plume of smoke out, tainting the air with the smell of Cuban tobacco, smiling with enjoyment before locking gazes with Johnny.
“A… mutual acquaintance of ours owes my family a large sum of money; we heard he had access to funds to repay us. He is overdue repaying us, the loan and the vig, and, I’m sorry to say, it is a sizable sum. We also heard his wife had enough money to repay what he borrowed and did not repay on time, and so I have come here, on behalf of my family, to collect our money. But what do I find? Our bird has flown, he has taken our money, and so you, Senhora, you must find a way to repay us; your husband’s debt is your debt, and my brothers have grown tired of waiting. Now where is our money?”
The air of dapper elegance was gone; now he was menacing, and Justine quailed at the expression on his face. Johnny stepped in front of her.
“Look you, whatever Carlo owed you’s between him and you; t’ain’t nuthin’ to do with us, so whyn’t you-all haul ass outta here afore I get mad?”
The hood’s eyes narrowed with anger.
“If I leave, she comes with me; one way or another, that fat fuck’s going to repay what he owes; he took our money, so his wife’s going to work it off for us.”
He flicked a lickerish glance over Justine as she cowered on the couch, and leered at Johnny, a triumphant smirk on his face as he licked his lips.
“She’s a pretty one; she’s gonna be really popular, I think I might even try her out myself first, just to see- ”
Before he’d even finished speaking, Johnny went off like a hand-grenade, enraged beyond reason at what that little dog’s dick planned for his Justine. Moving with the blurred speed of a striking rattlesnake, his hand speared into the man’s throat, stiff fingers crushing his larynx. The dapper hood dropped to his knees, strangling, his eyes wide with the knowledge of his own death, while his cohorts stood frozen, unnerved by Johnny’s reaction and blinding speed.
They didn’t stay frozen for long; the first one to reach into his jacket staggered back, his nose broken by the downward hammer-blow of Johnny’s fist. Johnny followed up with the heel of his hand in a vicious uppercut, with all his strength, straight to the bridge of the man’s nose, driving the splintered bone into his brain. He dropped without a sound, dead before he hit the floor.
Two of the lumbering gorillas tried to rush him; one got a back-elbow under his chin that slammed his teeth together and scrambled his brains, and as he staggered back, Johnny spun around, grabbed the other man by the back of his head, and slammed their heads together. Blood spouted with the force of the impact, and both thugs sagged to the floor, their lights switched off and their skulls most likely fractured with the crushing force of the impact.
The fourth thug, slower on the uptake than his three friends, finally lumbered into action, but it was already too late; he tried to grab Johnny around the neck in a clumsy wrestling hold, but Johnny had been rough-house wrestling down home all his life, and refining his skills in the course of his work, and he easily ducked out of the hold, spun the goon around and yanked him closer even as he head-butted him between the eyes; as the man staggered, dazed, Johnny kicked him in the crotch as hard as he could; the thug screamed and clutched himself as he sank to his knees. A crashing kick to his jaw, like a soccer player taking a penalty, sent him to join his sleeping buddies.
Justine stared in shock at the carnage; she’d always known Johnny could look after himself, but five men? No wonder no-one would cross him…
Johnny stood, breathing heavily, letting the rage and killing fury drain away; he looked up to see Justine’s wide, frightened eyes and cursed himself; he’d never wanted her to see that, what the hell must she think of him? He started to speak, but Justine bounced off the couch, skirting the bodies on the floor to hug him tightly around the waist.
“Justy, I…” he began, but she grabbed his lips and held them together, her favorite trick when she wanted him to shut up.
“It’s OK, Johnny B, you were protecting me, it’s OK, really; they came here to take everything from us, they were going to take me, and they would have hurt you. I know why, it’s all because of what Carlo did; I know he must have been behind what happened to me, I can see all the money in the safe’s gone, he took it, and now those people say I have to pay them back what he owes them. What are we going to do, Johnny? Please tell me we’re going to be OK; I don’t want them to come back, but they will, won’t they? What are we going to do?”
Johnny gently disengaged her arms from around her waist.
“Baby-girl, the money in the safe don’t matter; it gone now, an’ we never gonna get it back, but it don’ matter, you got lots more comin’. Right now, just siddown, lean back, don’ jar your head none, I need to make a couple calls, we get this cleaned-up, then we go see some people, OK? Now husha, I gotta talk to a man ’bout some carpets…”
Johnny made a call that made no sense to Justine, only hearing his side of the conversation; something about two carpets and three rugs, full cleaning service, standard rate, ten each for two carpets and five each for three rugs, with an extra ten for cleanup. Justine listened in bewilderment; there were dead and seriously injured men scattered around the loft, and Johnny was more concerned about making deals with some carpet cleaning company?
He finished his calls and smiled at her.
“Get your stuff packed, baby, stuff y’all really need; we got to get out o’ here real soon; some people comin’ by gonna take care this mess, then we gotta disappear for a while; them boys’ friends are gonna be lookin’ for evens, so shake your tail, Minou. Move it, I ain’t jokin’!”
Justine was packing a pair of large flight-bags when there came a knock on the door. Johnny answered cautiously, and a bunch of men with hard, forgettable faces, dressed in ‘ACME Carpet & Rug Cleaning Services’ coveralls carried in a pile of rolled-up carpets and rugs. Justine watched in horror as they began tightly wrapping the two bodies in Saran Wrap and rolling them up inside the carpets, while the three unconscious men were gagged, zip-cuffed and duct-taped, and wrapped in the rugs; then, all the rolled-up carpets and rugs were strapped tight with steel banding. Now she suddenly understood Johnny’s cryptic conversation as the ‘workmen’ carried their burdens into the service elevator.
Justine looked out to the street, where a large ‘ACME Carpet & Rug’ panel van was waiting, and she watched the men casually dump the rolled up carpets, whistling as they did, kicking and rolling them into the very front of the van, while a couple of the men rolled-up and Saran-wrapped the bloodstained rug then swabbed and mopped down the loft floor and outside corridor, before putting down an old, but clean rug where the old one had been. Justine smelled bleach and looked inquiringly at Johnny.
“Just in case, baby; any forensic people got reason to come up here, the bleach gonna confuse things if they use Luminol or UV lights to look for blood,” he grinned wryly; “Sometimes, bein’ Lawman come in useful…”
Justine chewed her lip, something she did when she was worried or confused as they rode the elevator down to the lobby.
“Johnny, who are those men, where are they taking those… rugs and stuff, and how do you know them? Tell me the truth, Johnny B, I’m not a little kid; how the hell do you know people like that?”
Johnny grinned as he tossed their cases into the back of his innocent-looking Blazer.
“Baby, I work in a… special kinda world, and you get to know people, sometimes they ask you for favors, an’ sometimes you ask for one in return; ‘quid pro quo’ they call it; I needed a ‘cleaner’, someone who owes me knows a man who knows a man, they sent them, they’ll pay them, I’ll pay it back through someone else, that’s all I need to know; favor repaid, an’ no paper trail; that’s how my world works. No-one talks, an’ no-one knows nuthin’; it’s safer that way. Now, you ready to go? I ain’t runnin’ back up to the loft an’ leaving you out here alone, so you forgot it, it’s gone, you got that?”
Justine nodded.
“Let’s just get the hell out of here before more of those pigs come back; the way that little dick was looking at me…”
*
Two hours later, in a small, anonymous office building behind a ramshackle gas station in Rochdale, Jerome Barker steepled his fingers on the table as he looked searchingly at Johnny.