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The Fury - Jason Pinter [78]

By Root 460 0
my idol, Jack

O'Donnell, was hidden away somewhere trying to drain

the poisons and impulses from his body. Jack had been

on the sauce for years, yet during that time he'd risen

to the highest ranks of his profession. There were

numerous examples of functioning alcoholics, drug

addicts, people who achieved despite carrying the

disease. I mean, I lived and worked in New York, which

probably had the highest ratio of functioning addicts in

the world. It would only make sense that if a person

worked in that industry, they would be corrupted in

some way, body or soul or both.

228

Jason Pinter

When I saw Stephen Gaines outside of my office

building, his face pale, sweat streaking down his gaunt

frame, it was clear he'd been wasted away by both.

Scotty Callahan sat there holding his glass while I

tried to force his words from my mind, trying to will

them to be false. Scotty didn't seem to care one way or

another. Now that I had the information, it was no

concern to him what I did with it.

And I could tell by the way he sat there eating,

drinking, staring at his food, his mind completely

oblivious to the anguish building inside me...this was

not the face of a man lying to save his ass. There might

have even been a slight catharsis in telling me.

Stephen Gaines wasn't just some random junkie, but

in fact one of the leaders of this organization--718 En

terprises. No doubt Stephen knew what that stood for,

who worked in it, how widely it reached. Perhaps that's

what he wanted to tell me. It's what I would have heard

had I stopped. It's what he would have done that night,

while a killer roamed the streets waiting for him to come

home.

"You only met him once," I said to Scotty. "Just

once."

"Just once," he said, holding up one finger. Then he

burped, and a shred of pastrami tumbled over his lower

lip. He slurped it back up.

"What about Kyle?" I said. "How much does he

know."

Scotty put down his drink. He leaned over until I

could smell the meat on his breath. His eyes narrowed,

and for a moment my anger and frustration was replaced

by the possibility that this guy might take a swing at me.

The Fury

229

"You leave him the hell out of this," Scotty said. "His

mom is sick. He brings home enough to pay her bills,

and doesn't want or ask for any trouble. None of us are

trying to get anyone hurt. You want to drag me through

the mud, tell people I'm dealing, it'll suck but maybe I

deserve it. You screw with Kyle's life, it's not just him

but his family. I don't know you, Henry, but you'd have

to be one heartless son of a bitch to do something like

that."

"I need to know what he knows," I said, my voice

trying to explain without any hostility. "It's my family,

too. My father was arrested for the murder of Stephen

Gaines."

Scotty sat back at though slapped. The breath seemed

to have left him. For a moment he said nothing, then he

shook his head. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

"Thanks," I replied.

"So that's what this is really about," Scotty said.

"Finding the truth to get your pops off the hook."

"That's right."

"Then I don't know what to say. I meant what I said

about Kyle. I'll tell you anything you want. I know

Kyle didn't know Gaines any more than I did. He met

him once, for an interview kind of thing. And we both

have to check in at the office, make sure our receipts

match up with what we're selling."

"Can you give me the name of whoever handles

that?" I said.

"It's always different," Scotty said. "And they never

tell us their names."

"What happens if you screw up?" I asked.

Scotty sighed, said, "I guess you should ask Stephen."

230

Jason Pinter

We said nothing, as I processed what Scotty had said

and he finished off the last of his cream soda. My milk

shake sat lonely and untouched. If he was desperate

enough for money to resort to drugs, I guess he valued

a free meal when it came his way.

After the plates had been cleared and I'd taken care

of the tab, we both stood up and headed toward the door.

I followed him, my legs feeling rubbery.

The air outside

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