Something Else (10)

Chapter TEN – Grandma’s Garage

The house at the end of the road was dark except for a porch light illuminating in front door. Moths spun randomly around the dim light. The only sounds came from the locusts that screeched every summer night long until dawn.

The white van eased its way down the unpaved gravel road followed by the pickup truck. In the van Dominic looked at his watch and noted that it was 3:00 am. It had taken them an hour to get from Missouri Bottoms to Blackjack.

Both drivers killed the lights as they rounded the bend so that their visit was unannounced. The single car garage was behind the house on the left side and abutted the woods. Both vehicles stopped almost simultaneously, just a few feet from the garage door. Dominic stepped out of the van and turned his flashlight on. He opened the side door, pointed it toward Frankie’s face. Frankie looked up with a frantic expression. Dominic signaled to the handler to bring Frankie out.

“So, the rest of it is here. In the garage. Is it locked up?” Dominic asked.

“Yeah.” Frankie replied. “But just a padlock. You got the key?”

“It’s on my key ring with my car key.” Frankie said.

Dominic looked over at the man who drove the pickup and said, “Gimme the key.”

He passed the key ring to Dominic who turned and shined the light on the garage door, searching for a hasp and lock. He located it on the right side and moved toward it. With a click the lock was opened and removed. He moved to the center, grabbed the handle near the bottom, and pulled up, opening the heavy wooden door. The screeching roller probably hadn’t seen a lubricant in the last thirty years and Dominic stopped after a foot. Then he slowly lifted the door, which diminished the sound substantially, but not completely.

The light passed over the neatly stacked boxes revealing the brands. Magnavox, Sony, Sanyo…it was all there.

Dominic looked back at the van driver and said, “Back it up so we can load it.”

The driver quickly made it back, started the van, made a three-point turn and backed in so the rear of the van was only about ten feet from the stolen goods. The other man guarding Frankie in the van opened his door and moved to the garage. Frankie was still bound with a tightened noose over his neck. The van driver then joined Dominic and the three of them started loading the van.

As they were finishing Dominic shined his light farther back into the garage and saw ten more large boxes. The printed labels said “Marlboro, Lucky Strike and Camel.”

Dominic smiled and turned back to the car.

“Frankie. Frankie. Frankie. You are still holding out on me. Aren’t you?”

“No man. I was gonna cut you in. Last Tuesday I was just driving down the road and saw this truck stopped on the side of a liquor store. The driver was making a delivery and took some cases inside. He left the back open, so I pulled in and took some. I didn’t have time to get all of it, but I got twelve cases before he came out and started yelling at me. I hit the road.”

Dominic opened one of the cases and counted. “Looks like each case has twenty cartons with ten packs of cigarettes per carton. That’s two hundred packs times twelve cases. I can’t add that in my head, but I think that’s a shitload of smokes. You smoke. Don’t you Frankie?”

“Yeah.” Said Frankie.

“What brand do you smoke?”

“I smoke Marlboro.”

“Well, I don’t smoke. They say it’s bad for you…causes cancer or some shit. You should quit.”

After a moment he looked at his minions and said “Load ‘em up.”

The two men move to the rear of the garage and begin loading the cases two at a time. Frankie watched from the back of the car, with a worried look on his face.

Dominic was conflicted. Frankie showed initiative. But Frankie was out of control. ‘Could he bring him into the fold or was he just too fucking dumb to control?’ He thought about a double tap at the back of the neck with his .32 but he couldn’t shoot him here. Even a small caliber round might wake Grandma and she might dial 911. The Bowie knife would be much quieter but what a mess it would make.

He could keep him bound and put him in the garage and start a fire with a can of gas. By the time the fire trucks got there from Spanish Lake and put out the fire there would be nothing left but charred remains of a garage and a body. But that would draw a lot of unwanted attention.

The end result would be a charred body in a remote garage owned by an Italian family twice removed from any criminal activity. And he didn’t have permission for the hit. Was the risk worth taking? It was a dilemma.

But it was late. They had their shit and Frankie showed he had balls. With some guidance he could be a real earner.

“Cut him loose.” Dominic directed. “Tell your grandma I said ‘Hello’.”