Ten point One: Recovery

I’m a little short on time this week, so I apologize if this is rough. The following takes place immediately after Spears was shot in the butt in the fire station and before he had the encounter with Bebe. I’m going to try to fill a few plot holes with the next couple of posts. If you have trouble following the order, please let me know and I’ll answer your questions. Thanks for reading and commenting! –“Connecticut” Avis

Ten point one: Recovery

Lenny and Tank Daddy have become a real pain in my ass. Especially true now that stitches hold closed a nine millimeter hole in my left buttock. I giggle at my own joke. I don’t really feel that pain. I’m floating. The pain in my head is worse.

The pain comes from the questions. The most recent of which: how did they track me down? The thought tumbles about with: why was Kelly extorting Luis Colón? And: What am I going to do about it?

The pain also comes from that other side of me, that side that stares at me in the mirror like a frightened child. It asks how I could kill a man. It looks at me and tries to figure out what I’m becoming. It wants to punish me.

The pain is welcome.

I float out of the anesthesia, aware of pain but not the source. I’m laying face down on a mechanical bed with cheap sheets. Kelly always had nice sheets, soft sheets. Something about high thread count.

The I.V. drip in my arm confirms my suspicion that I’m in a hospital, but I can’t figure out why, or why they have me laying face down. I wonder if I’m in the same hospital as Kelly. I want to find out. Moving is out of the question; my ass feels like there’s a nail through it. Also, something is uncomfortable on the other side down there, like my very special fun bit is wired to something. Suddenly, I remember being shot by Lenny. And Tank Daddy hammering my kidneys.

A nurse comes in, smiles, and checks a bag under my bed.

“You’re kidneys have stopped bleeding,” she says cheerily.

“Stopped is good. Not bleeding at all is better.”

She smiles, but doesn’t care. My charm doesn’t work so well face down with my wounded butt sticking out the back of a hospital gown. “The police would like to talk to you.”

I knew they would.

"Roll me over first," I say. The nurse helps me. She's good. She doesn't even get the catheter twisted.

Rocky walks in carrying something under his arm and wearing his uniform blues. Detective Comb-over Al accompanies him.

“Ah, shit,” Al says. “You.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.”

“You want to make a statement?”

“Sure. Let me recall something from the Gettysburg Address.”

Rocky shakes his head in warning and Al gives me the dead-eye cop gaze.

“Let me re-phrase that,” he says. “Tell me what the fuck happened or I’ll haul your dumb shot-up ass downtown on obstruction charges.”

“Come on, Spearsy,” Rocky says. “We’re just trying to help.”

I shrug an apology and relay my tale, carefully leaving out the fact that I knew Lenny and Tank Daddy from before.

“So you have no idea what these two were doing down there?” Al says.

“Probably looking to grab some gear to pawn. Gayle works the front office. Her presence is usually enough to discourage would-be thieves, but these guys were pretty determined. Hey, how is Gayle anyway?”

“She’s good,” Rocky says. “Took a blow to the head, but she should be okay in a few days.”

Al looks carefully bored about our digression. “Rocky’s got your address. We’ll be in touch if we track these two down.” Al leaves and Rocky leans in conspiratorially.

“The description you gave pretty much matches Lenny Krastewski, the guy we like for shooting Jerry Gold,” he says quietly. “I noticed you left that out. What are you up to, Spears?”

“Must have just slipped my mind, Rocko.”

“Don’t screw around with these guys, man. They are connected. We think Lenny is a bagman for Colón’s gang. He’s a shooter and the working theory is he bumped off his boss to move up in the gang.”

It’s good to hear that someone else is the number one suspect. But something else grabs my attention.

“Bagman? What’s he do?”

“We haven’t moved on him yet cause we’re waiting to connect him with the gang, but we’re pretty sure he collects the protection money from a couple of businesses up in Rome.”

“Tony Salamanca said the same thing.”

“He oughta know. He’s got a bail bond out on half the crooks in the area. Anyway, get yourself better. I picked up a new piece you just gotta try. I know you think my .40 is big, but I just got a beautiful 1911 tricked out for competition shooting.”

“Yeah. I might want to start packing something bigger.”

“Why’s that?”

“Something to do with the extra hole in my ass.”

“Oh. Right.” Rocky looks sheepish. Then, remembering he’s a cop again “Well, like I said, don’t do somethin’ stupid. We’ll track this guy down. Oh, thought you'd want this. For games and stuff.”

Rocky takes my the laptop computer from under his arm and gives it to me. He leaves and I get to work on doing something stupid.

School’s out for summer break, so if Kelly was helping a kid, he or she’d have to be local. Also, if Kelly was talking to Colón about some kid, that too meant the kid was local. Of course, the community college drew many students from the local area, but not as many as you’d might think. It was actually one of two community colleges in the area, in addition to a couple of four-years, so that watered down the number of locals. Our school had to recruit actively from all around the state and even across country to stay afloat. So, all I had to do was cross-reference her students with their hometowns, a task aided by the school computer system.

A couple of names came up repeatedly, but that wasn’t unusual. Students often found a teacher they liked and took him or her for all the required classes and any electives they could manage. I see the same students over and over in the EMT program, but I’m the only full-time teacher in the program. Kelly was never sure if it was a compliment that students came back to her or if she was just an easy grader. I’d seen her work; it was a compliment.

I cross referenced the class lists with students who were still enrolled, and that got the list down a few names. Kelly could be working with someone who had failed out or who graduated, but I have to make some initial decisions. Besides, Kelly tried like hell to help anyone who tried to help him or herself, but wasn’t likely to go after students who stopped attending. A body only has so much energy.

I cross reference the cross reference with a list of Kelly’s advisees. One name turned up on all the lists: Symphony Johnston. A couple more clicks got me Ms. Johnston’s home address and phone number.

Using the hospital phone, I dial. I think about what I’m going to say while listening to the ring tone. It keeps ringing and just as I think I’m going to have to try later, a sleepy female voice says hello.

“Symphony?” I say keeping my voice low.

“Yeah?”

“This is Lenny.”

Silence, then Symphony’s voice continues, much more awake. “How’d you get this number? I…I can’t go back, Lenny. I thought with Luís dead, you wouldn’t need us girls no more.”

“We do. You know where to be?”

“Yeah, yeah, RJ’s Lounge. But Lenny, look, I almost have the money. Just give me a couple more weeks. Don’t make me go back. I can’t do it no more…” her voice breaks off into sobs.

“Symphony, hey, listen, it’s OK. This isn’t Lenny. My names Spears.”

“What? You creep, who are you? You think this is funny?”

“No, no. Wait. Don’t hang up. I’m friends with Kelly, the professor who was helping you out.”

“Kelly? How is she?”

“No change.”

“I’m sorry about that. I think she got hurt trying to get Luís off my back.”

“I’d like to talk to you about that.”

“Look, Mr. Spears, if Luís is dead, I’m out. I’m sorry about what happened to Kelly, but I can’t change that now.”

Talk about ungrateful. But I keep my cool.

“No, Symphony, you can’t. But unless you help me, that little conversation we had at the start is going to be for real. Colón’s gang isn’t out of action. They’re reorganizing under a guy who I hear will make Colón look like a sweetheart. Now, I need to know why Kelly was helping you.”

It takes awhile to get all the answers out of her. I would have preferred to do it in person, but I need to heal as fast as possible, which meant staying in bed. My guess proves true. She had got in debt to Colón for, of all things, tuition money and he had turned her out on to the streets. His interest rate was killer and there’d been no end in sight for her until Kelly got involved.

We compare notes. Apparently Symphony had written about her experiences in a private journal that she’d accidentally turned in to Kelly as part of her course work. Kelly had talked to her about it and offered to help her out, lend her the money to get Colón off her back. Colón, though, hadn’t really wanted the money, so Kelly had tried to intervene directly. Somehow, she had planned to blackmail Colón for Symphony’s freedom. Probably, Colón had responded by forcing the loaded pot on her.

The conversation is enlightening and I feel a little more at ease for killing him. Symphony agrees to meet with me when I need her. I want to get right up, but I have to be smart about this. Sit, heal, and plot.

Any organization like this cares about its money flow. If something starts messing with that flow, they’ll get curious and start digging around. When they start asking, I can start finding ways in.

Lenny collects the money. Plus he probably shot Jerry.

I’ll pay Lenny a little visit next.