47- An old Friend indeed

  

They shuffled him aside, sitting him down on the stoop of a store as the professionals took over, the spurt and static of police radios filling the night the way the music had earlier. He and Dan had been told to wait.

 We may need you as witnesses, one of the uniformed cops told them. But few paid them much attention, and eventually, officers frowned in passing as if forgetting why they had been retained. Only a frowning Demetre noticed them near the end of the ritual. Perhaps he even steered the others away, mumbling something about not needing their testimony after all. It wouldn't be reliable anyway, Lance heard him say.

 Dan stammered and grunted curses between whole chains of near-death coughing, muttering to himself as he stared into the flashing  lights about pacifists and cops.

 "I'm going to wind up in jail because of you," he told Lance at one point when the police stomped around, trying to decide whether he and Dan were witnesses or part of the crime.

 But later, an hour or more, when they'd faded into the background, Dan plotted their escape.

 "We'll just start walking," he whispered. "If they stop us-- well, we're no worse off then we are now."

 Lance shrugged, his whole interior rattling with empty echoes, as he always had after a fire fight, as if each battle had left him a little lessened. He didn't even have Sarah to go home to, to cry over it, to hold or hug him, saying it was all right now. Another echo of Nam. Lovers, yes, but none he could trust with the deep feelings. Always the indifference silence. The lack of comfort. That was the real hell of war. No one to heal the deeper wounds for those walking, talking men of arms who on the outside appeared untouched.

 Dan grabbed his arm and pulled him to his feet. He followed behind the man, stumbling like a robot with a missing gear or two. They slipped into one dark doorway, stared back, then when no one noticed, moved to the next, eventually dragging themselves up the stairs to the near-black shadows between the bank columns.

 Only this time, their hiding space wasn't empty.

 "You!" Dan roared, his voice echoing off the glass and stone as he leaped at the pudgy figure. "I'll kill you!"

 The man jumped aside, but couldn't elude Dan's grasp and went down in a heap with Dan on his chest. He was the same figure they had seen earlier waiting. Somehow he had eluded both bikers and cops.

 "Hello, Danny-boy," he said in a wheeze.

 "Don't hello me, you little fuck. Where's my money?"

 The figure frowned, and despite his odd position seemed perfectly composed, wearing a grey three piece suit more fitting on a banker than a drug dealer. He had the air of conformity, with his short hair properly balding at the top and rear with strands combed across his forehead in an attempt to save dignity.

 "Money?" he asked.

 "From the goddamn Denver connection you ripped off!" Dan barked. "Don't pretend like you don't know what I'm talking about. I'm in a mood to murder you as it is."

 "Danny-boy. You get so excited. But this hardly seems the proper time or place to discuss such matters."

 "It's the only time or place you've got. So talk."

 "No," the man said, so matter-of-factly that even Dan blinked.

 "What do you mean, no? Aren't you listening to me? I'm going to kill you!"

 "Better you than some stranger, I suppose," the man said.

 Dan rose and dragged Bobo to his feet.

 Standing nose to nose, they looked like Abbott and Costello, with Bobo a whole head shorter than Dan. And yet, Bobo had stature, wide-shouldered and dignified, with a sense of importance that went beyond his wrinkled suit. He bent and retrieved a crushed bowler hat from the ground.

 "Look what you did!" he said, waving the hat under Dan's nose. "You know how much this cost me? You don't have any class, Danny-boy. That's you're problem."

 "Don't give me that shit," Dan said. "If the hat cost you anything, then you got it wholesale."

 Indeed, even Lance seemed drawn to the man, the round face beamed of trust and friendliness, his sparkling eyes straight out of a photo of Santa Claus.

 He dusted himself off, inspecting the suit for tears. "No class," he mumbled again, then stared straight at Dan, those same eyes suddenly hard. "Now what are you going on about?"

 "I told you not to deny things, Bobo, old pal," Dan said. "I've been to Denver. I know the score."

 "A misunderstanding," Bob said, straightening his tie in the reflection of the dark glass bank door, picking a small speck from it. "I can explain everything if you give me a chance."

 "All right, explain," Dan said, drawing Mike's pistol from his pocket. "Then I'll kill you."

 "All this talk of killing is hardly a positive attitude," Bobo said. "But I told you. This is all wrong. It's a long story and perhaps we can talk over coffee somewhere."

 "Coffee?" Dan bellowed, shoving the gun up under Bobo's multiple chins. "That's it! I'm going to do it."

 Lance grabbed Dan's arm. "No," he said.

 Dan stared at Lance. Perhaps he saw a bit of the fury of war seeping out of Lance's head, through the gnarled expression.

 "You're right," Dan said softly. "I won't get my money killing him now. We'll take him back to the apartment where I can take my time squeezing the truth out." He grabbed Bobo's arm and propelled him down the stairs.

 "Unhand me!" Bobo protested. "I won't be treated like this, Daniel! Not even by you."

 "Save your demands," Dan said. "You have enough to worry about keeping your hide."

 

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