Baca - Page 54

“Why don’t you tell them how you funnel money made from criminal enterprise into your studio so you can keep it afloat?”

One of the men got up and said, “I’ll talk to you later, Mr. Meadows.” The others left with him and I sat down beside Frank.

He started to get up and I snugged his elbow into the crook of my arm and used my hand to force his hand down at a right angle. A little more pressure and I could inflict a lot of pain. A little more than that and I could break his wrist.

“Frank, tell me about Carl Rakes.” Frank tried a quick move to pull his hand away and punch me, but I applied the pressure and he grimaced. I said, “You try that again and I’ll break your wrist so bad that hand will fly around on the end of your arm like a propeller. Now, tell me about Rakes.”

He growled, “What do you want to know?”

“How’d you meet him?”

He looked at me like he thought I already knew, “Bond introduced us.”

“Bond?”

“Yeah, I thought she told you.”

“Nope.” I thought a moment then said, “It doesn’t bother you, Bond rubbing all over him?”

“You really that naive, Baca?”

“Answer the question.”

“Carl is both our partners.”

“I’m not talking about business. I saw what was going on at the pool.”

“That’s what I’m talking about. Both Bond and I are omnisexual.”

“So plants and animals are fair game, too.”

Frank rolled his eyes, “We have sex together.”

“They used to call it ménage a trois.”

“You common people have such small minds.”

“Common people? Frank, I hear a lot of Pennsylvania coal mine in your voice. Doesn’t get more common than that.”

Frank struggled and I gave his wrist a good one that brought a hiss from his lips. He settled back, not wanting that kind of pain again. We stared at each other for a minute, then he said, “What I know, Carl Rakes was in the Russian Special Forces and sided with the wrong group during one of the Russian political changeovers. The victors thought he was too dangerous so they arrested him for crimes against the state and stuck him in jail. Not just any jail, but the one filled with the meanest, sickest, toughest criminals in the country, the prison at Sarana.

He was forced to become the toughest one there just to survive. Seems convicts have a thing for military or police when they join the prison population. Anyhow, that’s what he did.

“What goes around comes around, and some of his political cronies came back into power years later and they freed and pardoned him. He’d had enough of Mother Russia and he immigrated to America about seven years ago. We met and I hired him. That what you wanted?”

“How did Bond know him before you?”

“I don’t know. Ask her.”

Frank sulled up and I figured that was all I was going to get, so I let him go. He rubbed his wrist and said, “You keep sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong and you’re going to get hurt.”

I moved my face close to his, “Simon Mortay ran my best friend through with a sword. I think Rakes beat Mickey Haile to death with his fists. I’m not the one who needs to watch out. Tell them that.” I walked to the bar and ordered a Tunguska Blast. I needed it after that little episode. I watched Frank in the mirror behind the bar as I downed the Blast. The combination of hot/cold secret ingredients, and one hundred proof octane blossomed in my stomach and spread outward like the pressure waves on those old films of exploding nuclear bombs. When I left, my fingers, toes, and scalp were tingling as if they’d been massaged with menthol. I didn’t know what was in that stuff, but it was worth the twenty bucks.

**

When I got to the office, Hunter was waiting. She was mad clear through, but not at me.

“Somebody’s got a long reach, Ronny. I got a call from my Chief a few minutes ago, seems I’m to report directly to Washington to face a review board on my conduct.”

Tags: Billy Kring Mystery
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