Chapter Text
“So, are you gonna tell me who you are?”
Barbara Holland taps her finger on the table, eyeing the man in front of her. He’s young, maybe in his mid-twenties. White, decently handsome, with a movie-star smile and Hollywood good looks. It doesn’t put Barb at any ease, though. She learnt the hard way not to trust a man just because of his smile.
“I don’t know.” The man looks up at Barb, icy blue eyes meeting hers. “Depends on why you want to know.”
“Because I came here looking for Tommy.” Barb says. “And I don’t see him anywhere here.”
The man shrugs, like he’s just as confused as Barb is. “He was sitting right where you are about an hour ago.”
Barb doesn’t entertain his shtick for a second. “Don’t gimme that crap. Who are you, really?”
“Tommy told me you were the kind of girl who didn’t put up with nobody’s bullshit.” The man shakes his head slightly, chuckling. “The name’s William Hargrove. But my friends just call me Billy.”
Barb arches an eyebrow. “Are we friends?”
“Depends.” Billy clicks his tongue. “Do you want to be?”
“That depends on whether you’ve got what I came here for.”
“Right, right.” Billy nods. “Of course.”
He reaches into his coat pocket and produces a wad of dollar bills, all folded up neat and secured with a rubber band. “Two hundred bucks. Tommy told me to give it to you.”
Barb sits up. “Give it.”
“Whoa, now.” Billy holds out a hand, laughing, like Barb is an overeager racehorse. “You don’t even wanna know what it’s for?”
“What it’s for is what he owes me.”
Billy raises an eyebrow. “Tommy owes you a lot more than two hundred.”
Barb looks up, suddenly surprised. “Did he tell you that?”
“Among other things.” Billy sighs. “Guess he got tired of splitting the profits in your little operation. He made that anonymous call to the precinct, and before you even knew what was happening, they were slapping the cuffs on you and Tommy was long gone with the cash.”
“I wasn’t the only one he screwed over.” Barb says grimly.
“But you were the only one who got to bunk three years at the state’s expense.” Billy says. There’s a smugness to his voice, like he’s solved some impossible riddle. “Here.”
With a casual flick of the wrist, he tosses the cash across the table, like he’s throwing a stray dog a bone. Barb catches it before it can hit the ground.
“And if you’re wondering…” Billy allows his voice to trail off for a moment. “There is more. For services yet to be rendered.”
“Services?” Barb furrows her brow. “What kind of services?”
“Recovery of an object of value.” Billy says. “Your part is worth that two hundred, plus the two thousand Tommy stole from you, plus another five hundred.” Barb’s astonishment must show on her face, because Billy smiles. “That a good enough incentive for you?”
“What is this thing you’re looking for, anyway?” Barb asks.
“A doll.”
“A doll?”
“A doll.” Billy repeats, nodding. “Child’s doll. Plays a little tune when you crank the handle.”
Barb raises an eyebrow. “What’s so special about it?”
“About the doll?” Billy shrugs. “Nothing, really. It’s what’s inside the doll that’s special.”
Barb looks Billy up and down. Something isn’t right about this whole thing, but she can’t put her finger on what. “And are you gonna tell me what that is?”
Billy shakes his head. “It’s of no concern to you, Ms. Holland.”
“Alright then.” Barb concedes. “Where is this doll?”
Billy makes a wide gesture, indicating the room around them. “Somewhere in this very apartment.”
“In the apartment, huh?” Barb gives her surroundings a quick look. “This doll belong to Tommy?”
“I’ll answer that question in a different way.” Billy lights a cigarette, taking a long drag before continuing. “It was in Tommy’s possession prior to it being not.”
Barb looks back at Billy. “What do you mean by that?”
“There was meant to be an exchange this morning.” Billy says. “Tommy was supposed get the doll from Philadelphia and bring it back here for me. Unfortunately, he ran into some trouble with the cops. He didn’t want to get busted with the doll, so he slipped it into the bag of this nice-guy type sitting next to him on the A-train. The satchel had the guy’s name and address on it, so Tommy knew he’d be able to track the fellow down once he’d given the slip to the cops. An hour later, Tommy shows up at the door of this very apartment with some story about accidentally slipping the doll into Nice Guy’s bag. Nice Guy looks in his bag, but wouldn’t you know it, the damn thing’s not in there.”
“So what does Tommy do about it?” Barb asks.
“Well, he leaves, pretending it wasn’t that important, and he does some digging. Figures out that Nice Guy is in the business of buying and selling used cars. So he makes a phone call, says he’s got a real fine car he’s looking to sell.”
Barb nods. “I know that one. It was Tommy’s favorite. Let me guess. Cadillac V-16, red with silver accents.”
Billy clicks his tongue. “Bingo.”
“What’d he call himself?” Barb asks. “Angelo, was it? Something Italian.”
Billy nods. “Indeed. Nice Guy went to see the buyer, and his husband went to the pictures.”
“So Tommy is free to get in here and tear the place apart.” Barb looks around. “Has he been here already?”
“He searched and searched, but…” Billy sighs. “Nothing.”
“He looked everywhere?” Barb raises an eyebrow. “What about the closet?”
“Tommy went in the closet.” Billy says.
“What about the safe?” Barb asks. “I saw it when I came in.“
Billy shakes his head. “Locked.”
“Okay, then…” Barb’s voice trails off. “We make Nice Guy give us the combination when he gets back.”
“We don’t need to make Nice Guy do anything.” Billy says. “We’ve got his husband.”
“What?” Barb scrunches up her nose. “What do you-“
“Steve?”
The sound of a voice cutting through the air, along with the sound of a key in the apartment door handle, makes Barb freeze up.
Someone’s home.
“Shit.” Billy swears under his breath. “Get up.”
“Wh-“
“Get up.” Billy repeats. “Stand against the wall, and no matter what, don’t move. Got it?”
It’s not like Barb has much choice. As soon as she’s on her feet, Billy’s practically shoved her until she’s up against the wall, back-first. She hears the sound of the door creaking open, and the same voice fills the apartment.
“Steve?” The man in the doorway calls out. “Are you home?”
Barb hears the man making his way down the hallway, his footsteps drawing ever-closer, until he’s standing in the entrance to the living room. Now, Barb can get a clear look at him. He’s a young guy, maybe in his mid-to-late twenties, with mousy brown hair and pale skin. Everything about him is normal and unassuming, except…
Except his eyes.
Barb can’t stop looking at the man’s eyes as he moves through the room. They’re a faded, cloudy brown, and they never seem to stare at anything directly.
The man moves towards the phone on the coffee table, feeling his way along furniture as he walks. His hands find the phone, and Barb watches as he turns the rotary dial, holding the phone to his ear.
“Hi, Steve.” The man speaks into the receiver. “Yeah, I’m home. I left twenty minutes in.”
There’s a pause as the person on the other end of the line speaks.
“Because it was a silent movie.” The man shakes his head, but there’s a hint of a smile on his face. “Yeah, next time, let’s call to find out what they’re playing beforehand, huh?”
Another pause.
“You’re kidding.” The man laughs, then covers his mouth as if he hadn’t intended for that to happen. “I’m sorry, it’s just… wow.”
There’s more silence.
“Oh, I’m definitely coming.” The man nods. “I’ll bring a bottle of our worst Chianti.”
The person on the other end says something else, and the man smiles.
“Yeah, I know. Love you, hon.”
The man puts the phone down on the receiver and starts towards the kitchen. As he’s walking, he collides with the dining chair that Barb had been sitting in- evidently, in her hurry, she hadn’t bothered to put it back in its regular place.
“Shit!” The man stumbles, but catches himself before he falls over. “God dammit, Max…”
After rearranging the chair back where it’s supposed to be, the man continues towards the kitchen. He opens the refrigerator, feeling around inside until he comes up with a bottle of wine. Suddenly, he looks over his shoulder, as if something’s startled him.
“Max?”
Barb tenses up. She doesn’t move, doesn’t even dare to breathe.
“Max, you can’t fool me.” The man makes an annoyed expression. “I know when you’re here.”
Several more seconds pass by, agonizingly slowly, until the man finally gives a sigh. Barb still holds in her breath until the man has made his way past them, down the hallway, and out the apartment door.
“See?” Billy looks over to Barb, a smug smile creeping onto his face.
“He’s blind.” Barb says. “Isn’t he?”
“Blind as a bat.” Billy nods.
Barb gives an incredulous sort of laugh. “Okay. So what’s the plan?”
“Tomorrow morning, eight A.M.” Billy starts. “We’ll phone Nice Guy and make up some story about a car buyer in Boston. That’s four hours from here, which means he’ll pretty much be gone all day. Blind boy’s the only one we’ll have to deal with, apart from the kid who lives upstairs. But she shouldn’t be much trouble, or so Tommy says. There’s a phone booth across the street. We park ourselves right by that booth and we make calls to the apartment. We’ll whip up some story about the doll. With any luck, blind boy’ll hand it over to us by noon. That’s what Tommy says, anyway.”
“Tommy’s told you a lot.” Barb crosses her arms over her chest.
Billy arches an eyebrow. “So?”
“When does he show?”
Billy sighs, then reaches into his pocket. He tosses something to Barb- a ring of keys -and gestures to the closet. Barb gives Billy a puzzled look, but his expression doesn’t betray anything else.
Slowly, somewhat tentatively, Barb makes her way into the closet. As she uses the key to open the door, she hears Billy talking from somewhere behind her.
“Tommy was… very firm in his conviction that he knew where the doll was. I was very firm in my conviction that he did not.”
Barb opens the closet door, the light from the rest of the apartment illuminating the contents inside. As Barb realizes what- or rather, who it is, her heart drops in her chest.
Tommy Hagan, eyes glassy and unfocused, with a slashed throat and a terrified expression on his face.
Barb’s jaw drops in horror, her hand moving to cover her mouth. There was no way this could have been an accident- someone had killed Tommy. Deliberately. And Barb had a very good idea of who that ‘someone’ could be.
“It’s too late to back out now, Ms. Holland.” Billy says. All traces of joviality are gone, replaced by a cold, unfeeling tone. “You’re already involved in this now.”
“You-“ Barb turns around to face Billy. “You did this?”
“I had to, Barb.” Billy says, with an air of nonchalance that one would expect from someone giving their coffee order, not discussing a murder. “Otherwise, he would’ve ditched me just like he ditched you.”
“So you killed him?” Barb’s heart is pounding so loud in her chest, she’s sure Billy can hear it. “Just for that?”
“I don’t like being double-crossed.” Billy growls.
Barb shakes her head, stumbling backwards. “I can prove where I was when you did this.”
“Hey.” Billy reaches out, his hand clamping around Barb’s wrist. His grip is so tight, almost painfully so, that Barb can’t help but yelp. “You walk out now, and I will leave Tommy exactly where he is. Even if you knew every surface you touched in this apartment, it’d take you an hour just to wipe off all the prints.”
Billy takes a breath, then releases his grip on Barb’s arm.
“Here’s what you do. There’s a rug in the closet with Tommy. Wrap him up, take him to the vacant lot out back, and hide him. But not so well it’ll take a Boy Scout to sniff him out. And one more thing. Instead of working for Tommy, you work for me. Is that clear?”
“I-“ Barb takes a shaky breath, then nods. “Yes.”
“There. That was easy, wasn’t it?” Billy smiles, but there’s no friendliness to it. “Let’s get a move on.”