Cold Case - 2. Chapter 2

The door swung open, but not for long. Ryan grabbed it and banged it shut, causing a cry of pain and the sound of something breaking. He then wrenched it open again. The man who’d been opening the door stumbled forward and fell to his knees, blood pouring down his face. But there were two of them and the second had an MP5 machine pistol, was raising it to fire.

Nico dived for the man’s legs as if he were sacking a Hail Mary quarterback. They went down together and the gun flew to one side.

“Fuck!” the man freed one leg and kicked Nico in the face but the young man hung on and struggled to his knees, pulling his captive away from the gun just as Ryan reached down and grabbed it.

“In!” Ryan said, pulling the man up from the floor and propelling him toward the freezer door. Helped along by Ryan’s boot in his ass, he made no attempt to go anywhere else.

“You okay, Nicolino?” Ryan asked, after he’d made sure the door was locked.

“I’d be happier if I had some pants on,” Nico said, smiling at the pet name.

“I mean – your nose.”

Nico wiped his face, found his hand bloody. Prodded his nose and found that in one piece.

“I’ve had worse,” he said. He set off along the corridor they were in, trying doors. “Here’s the office. There should be a phone somewhere.”

“What about your phone?” Ryan asked.

“It’s in my jacket,” Nico said, going over to the desk and rummaging around its messy surface. “Which is with my pants. Which are –”

“Right there,” Ryan said, pointing out a pile of both their possessions heaped up in one corner of the office.

“Pants!” Nico hurried over to grab them.

“Phone,” Ryan said. “Before any more of these guys turn up wanting to wipe us out.”

*****

“Look at my fucking suit!”

Matsumoto, breathless, climbed to his feet. He dragged his prey with him by his cuffed wrists.

The young man he’d captured looked over his naked shoulder.

“Maybe you should think again about wearing a white suit while you’re arresting someone,” he said.

“I like this suit,” said Matsumoto. He looked over at the young man’s battered opposition. Three big beefy construction-worker-sized guys.

“You wanna press charges?” Matsumoto asked them.

“Damn right we do!” The biggest of them spoke, meanwhile adjusting a newly ripped shirt over a thick mat of chest hair.

“That’s gonna look interesting in court,” Matsumoto mused. “The three of you... beaten up by this little guy.”

“He knows some kind of Sioux Kung Fu!”

“He went crazy!”

“He took us by surprise!”

“Who are you calling a little guy?”

“Uh – maybe we should just forget about it,” said the least damaged of the three.

The victims muttered amongst themselves for a moment, then seemed to come to some kind of agreement. The guy in the ripped shirt turned back toward Matsumoto.

“No, we don’t want to charge him,” he said. “Can’t you, you know, get him in a room somewhere?”

“I’ve only just met him,” Matsumoto said. “I’m not sure we’re ready to get a room.”

“I mean, you know, smack him around a little, somewhere private. Something like that.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Matsumoto said. He looked around and saw that the rest of the crowd had almost dispersed.

“Come on,” he told his captive, dragging him over to his car.

“Smack me around?” the young man said.

“I guess you don’t like that idea.” Matsumoto smiled at him.

“I’m Native American. I’m gay. What more can you do to me?”

“Good point,” said Matsumoto. “What’s your name?”

“Danny Eaglewing.”

“For real?”

“Yeah. That’s my name. What’s yours?”

“Mikio Matsumoto. Detective, second grade. 69th precinct.”

“I heard that’s where all the gay cops work.”

“Yeah, that’s the gay cop ghetto,” Matsumoto said. “So why the demonstration? I mean, Native American gay rights – that’s gotta attract a lot of white supremacist opposition.”

“It’s not those kind of people are our problem,” Danny said. “It’s our parents. People who’ve come to believe that being gay or transgendered is wrong. That’s just going against our whole heritage. Native Americans – a lot of tribes, anyway – have always accepted people like us.”

“Preaching to the congregation here,” Matsumoto said. “I did mention, 69th precinct, yeah?”

“Oh, yeah.” Danny smiled. “So – are you gonna arrest me? Or can we forget about that and I blow you instead?”

“Are you trying to bribe me?”

“I think I’m trying to seduce you.”

Matsumoto took a good look at his prisoner. Danny was slightly grubby from the scuffle but he had a pleasantly athletic build and looked cute in a loincloth and beads; all he was currently wearing.

“Okay, but you keep the cuffs on,” Matsumoto said. “And don’t spit or swallow. I wanna take a photo of it on your face.”

“Uhhh... you’re a little strange, aren’t you?” Danny said.

“Believe me, you haven’t even scratched the surface,” Matsumoto said. “Shit,” he added as his phone started ringing.

“Matsumoto,” he answered it.

“You gotta come get us!” he heard. “We’re – where are we? Ryan? No, don’t take the phone, don’t take the phone!”

“Miki?”

“Ryan, is that you?” Matsumoto said. “What’s going on there?”

“We’re at a meat processing plant on – I dunno – what? Look on the stationery, Nico... we’re at the bottom of Priestley Street, near the docks. Can you come pick us up? We’ve got some, uh, some urgent problems here.”

“On my way.” Matsumoto turned to his captive. “I’m gonna have to take a raincheck. You got a phone somewhere in that little scrap of leather?”

“Uh, yeah.” Danny passed it over.

“Here’s my number,” Matsumoto said, keying it in. “Call me.”

He handed back the phone, got in his car and drove off, leaving Danny standing in the middle of the street, no doubt wondering why he hadn’t been offered a ride.

*****

“He’s on his way,” Ryan said.

“Good.” Nico was dressing, picking up his clothes from the floor. “I need a dry cleaner, look at my suit. I can’t wear this for work now. Here’s your gun. And your hat.”

“Thanks,” Ryan said. “What do you wanna do while we’re waiting?”

“Huh?” Nico looked up, saw the glint in his companion’s eye and moved fast, putting the length of the office desk between them. “No way.”

“Why not?” Ryan asked, moving purposefully forward. “After all that intimacy in the meat locker –”

“That wasn’t intimacy, that was necessity,” Nico said. “Or perhaps desperation. In any case, we need to go back in there.”

“Huh? What for? Do you only get horny in the cold?” Ryan followed Nico out of the office. “What are you, a fuckin Eskimo?”

“Not unless Eskimos come from Sicily.”

“So why are we going back into the freezer?”

“Because I want another look at the meat.”

“Meat turns you on? You’re worse than Matsumoto. And he’s the kinkiest guy I ever met.”

“I’m surprised you can remember,” Nico said. “You’ve spent so long back in uniform.”

“That’s cruel,” Ryan said.

“I was proud of you when you got to be a detective,” Nico said. “But I have to say, I wasn’t surprised when they busted you back to the streets.”

“Thanks,” Ryan muttered. “What about those guys we locked up in there?”

Nico held up a roll of duct tape he’d picked up in the office.

*****

“Here, take a look at this.” Their prisoners had been bound and gagged and were lying in one corner of the meat locker, grumbling incomprehensibly. Now Nico pointed up at the hanging sides of pork and beef that filled the room.

“What? It’s meat,” Ryan said. “You wanna take some home? A souvenir? Nice roast for the weekend? We could put it in Matsumoto’s trunk.”

“No, Jesus Mary, I don’t wanna take it home. I’m not living on a cop’s salary, I can afford to buy meat when I want it. Just look at it. That one, there.” Nico pointed at the chunk of meat he was interested in. “That look like pig to you?”

“Uhm.” Ryan stared up in silence for a moment. “No. That looks like human to me.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

*****

Matsumoto pulled into the parking lot to see Ryan standing in the shelter of the meat plant doorway, Nico Sartori by his side. He parked and got out of his car, noticing that it was starting to snow. Fine, tiny flakes that would probably be a blizzard two hours down the line. He felt a little guilty that he'd left Danny Eaglewing out in the cold. Hopefully he had a wallet stuffed down his loincloth somewhere and could get a cab to somewhere warmer.

“Hey, Mikio!” Ryan hurried over. “There’s a dead guy in there hung up with the meat.”

“Yeah, he’s got no head either,” Nico said as he came across. “So you can’t see who he is. There must be a head around somewhere though. Maybe in one of the dumpsters?”

“They probably took it down the docks and threw it in the ocean,” Ryan said. “A head’s easier to move than a whole body.”

“They’re probably gonna put the body in a pie,” Nico said. “Like Sweeney Todd.”

“That movie’s got a lot to answer for,” Ryan said.

“Hey, he was a real guy,” Nico replied. “And why would you put a body in with a lot of meat unless, you know, you meant to treat it like meat?”

“Somebody care to tell me what’s going on?” Matsumoto leaned against his car, amused. “You’ve got blood all over your face, Nico. Is it yours or somebody else’s?”

"Mine," Nico said. "Somebody kicked me."

“There’s two guys locked up in there,” Ryan said. “In the meat locker. They’re tied up with duct tape.”

“They kidnapped us,” Nico added. “Well, I’m guessing it was them. It was dark. Coulda been somebody else. They tried to kill us, though.”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?” Matsumoto suggested. He knew his ex-partner was prone to getting a little excitable and Nico apparently had the same tendency.

“Okay,” Ryan said. “I’m going past Rims Colluci’s place, when I hear a disturbance inside.”

“He was actually going to Rims Colluci’s place,” Nico said. “On account of Rims is his informant.”

“Oh, you know that?” Ryan said.

“Uh huh,” Nico said. “Meanwhile, I’m in there talking to Rims about getting my transmission serviced –”

“You mean you were picking up your grandfather’s protection money,” Ryan said.

“Oh, you know that?” Nico said.

“Heard you,” Ryan said. “I thought you said you’d never work for your grandfather?”

“I don’t work for him,” Nico said. “He asked me as a favor, because the regular pickup guy was sick.”

“Then just as I’m walking in the room where Nico is with Rims,” Ryan said, “somebody starts shooting. Rims goes down and the lights go out so we can’t see nothing.”

“I was on the floor,” Nico said. “I didn’t wanna get shot.”

“Someone hit me,” Ryan rubbed his head. “I think they hit me more than once. I remember the first one.”

“Some guys grabbed me,” Nico said. “There were three of them I think. But I couldn’t see em. They put a bag or something over my head. They took my clothes and – and when I complained, they said I’d need a new suit for my funeral anyway. They said they were gonna kill me. Then they left me in a meat locker,” Nico said. “With him. I was naked and I was hung up on a meat hook.”

Matsumoto looked at Ryan. “You get all the luck,” he said.

“Yeah, it was almost worth all the pain and terror,” Ryan said.

“Hey!” Nico glared at the pair of them.

“Then these two guys came in with a machine pistol,” Ryan said. “Which we took off them.”

“Hold on a minute.” Matsumoto took out his vibrating phone and answered it.

“Matsumoto?” he heard.

“Yeah, this is me,” Matsumoto said. “Answering my phone.”

“You were Ryan’s partner, right? Ryan Giannorino? My cousin?”

“Who is this?” Matsumoto asked.

“What? Sorry. Yeah. It’s Francini. Angel Francini.”

“Oh, hi, Angel,” Matsumoto said, wondering what had got his fellow-detective so upset. “Ryan’s right here with me, you wanna talk to him?”

“No, I just needed to find him.” Francini spoke fast. “Are you at a meat processing plant?”

“Yeah, how’d you know that?”

“I heard them – listen, tell him to get out of there. Quick. I don’t know what he’s done, but I know what they’re saying he’s done.”

“Who’s saying? What’s he done?” Matsumoto was becoming a little tired of people telling him half the story.

“Some detectives from the 51st,” Francini said. “They’re saying Ryan killed Rims Colluci. And Domenico Sartori. Nico, you know?”

“Killed Nico? But –”

“And they’re on their way, right now. To arrest him.”

There are hardly any dropped letters in this chapter. Thanks to sat8997 for pointing out that they could be annoying. I didn't think I could write it without them, but I decided to just do it anyway and, honestly, I don't miss the dropped letters now they're gone. A little hard work is a lot better than sitting in paranoid gloom wondering just how many people are getting really irritated with my missing g's.
Hopefully I've eliminated the forwards/backwards/towards as well. I need to remember I'm writing in American English and not my native English English...