2015-

Jason Parley looked at the gates, and the mansion beyond. Business had been good

for Robert Tortelli. He could understand wanting to keep that business against all

comers. Too bad that the King had arrived, and expectations had to be laid out.

“What are we doing here, Jace?” Gus Greer sat behind the wheel of their unmarked

car. His partner had changed in the last five years in a frightening way. He hadn’t

crossed the line yet, but it was only a matter of time. “We shouldn’t be here.

Especially not now.”

The reason they shouldn’t be there was Lily Krantz, an 83 year old accountant. She

had witnessed a crime that was tied back to Tortelli and his goons. The Cap had

ordered Parley and Greer to guard her until trial. That was why she was sitting in the

back seat listening to the detectives talk.

“Drive around, Gus.” Parley opened the door. “I’m just going to have a talk.”

“This is a bad move, Jace.” Greer stared at his partner. “It could be considered

tampering.”

“I’m just going to have a talk with the man.” Jason turned a smile on his partner. The

lightning bolt scar on his forehead seemed to gleam against his pale skin. “Just drive

around the block until I come out.”

“What if you don’t come out?,” asked Mrs. Krantz from the back seat. “They could

kill you.”

“Then I expect you to avenge me.” Parley smiled at her. The thought of a retired

grandma taking on the mob was the stuff of movies. “Don’t worry. It’ll be a snap.”

Parley got out of the car and headed up to the gate. The automobile pulled off at a

sedate pace. Gus was an expert driver. If he wanted to crash the party, he could

despite his self-doubt.

Parley paused at the gate. Two men stood guard on the other side. They looked at him

with bored expressions. He knew that he didn’t look that impressive, barely making

the height requirement, wearing a rumpled suit, old cowboy boots on his feet.

He thought he was the more dangerous of the three of them. But, he admitted, most

fighting people did.

“Open the gate, please.” Parley stood with his hands in his pockets.

“Got a warrant?” The bigger man on the left moved to stand right next to the bars on

the other side. “Otherwise, no. Mr. Tortelli is too busy to see you.”

“There’s an easy way and a hard way to this.” Parley scratched the side of his head

with an index finger. “The easy way is to let me by and go in peace. The hard way is

to impede me and never open a gate again, much less hold a spoon to feed yourself.

Now is the time to think.”

“The answer is still no, cop.” The man pointed down the street with his thumb. “Beat

it.”

Parley grabbed the man’s tie and yanked him into the bars of the gate. He did it again

to make sure the man was too stunned to stop him. He pulled the keeper’s arms

through the bars and twisted his hands. Cracking of bone followed the move. He

turned to the other man, pistol in hand.

“Do you want what he got?,” Parley asked.

The man held up his hands, shaking his head.

“Open the gate and let me by.” Parley put the pistol away. “It will be better for you

in the long run.”

The second man did what he was told, opening the gate with one hand while holding

his other up. He stepped back, raising the other hand.

“Take your friend to the hospital.” Parley stepped through the opened portal. “They

might be able to save his arms if you hurry.”

Parley walked through the grass island in the middle of the circular driveway leading

to the big house. He stepped over the three steps to a stone stage three feet wide. He

knocked on the door. Pebbled glass sat in insets on either side of the door, and above

the frame. He didn’t see a peephole so he supposed the door man had to open the door

to see who was visiting.

The door opened like he expected. A goon looked down at him. He shoved the door

out of the way and stepped across the threshold.

“You can’t come in here.” The goon held up his hands. “Get out of here.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“I’m here to talk to Mr. Tortelli.” Parley shook his head. “Once I am done, I will

leave. Getting in my way is only going to get you hurt. Be wise and stand aside for

the amount of time I am going to take. I would hate to dash your brains out in an

instant if you keep standing there.”

The tone of Parley’s voice said he would love to dash someone’s brains out in an

instant, and he didn’t care how many those brains happened to be.

“I’ll get in trouble if I don’t at least try.” The door man looked down the hall. “You’re

going to have to go.”

Parley punched him in the face so fast it was like he barely moved before the man

crashed against the wall and fell to the floor. He made sure he hadn’t killed the man

before he continued his march to the middle of the mansion.

The Organized Crime boys said Tortelli had a room in the middle of his place where

he did business. No one had been able to bug it successfully. They were sure he had

put it in the middle of the house to help defend it from them.

Parley found the door to the room. He knocked on it and frowned at the metallic thud

that answered. He found a button beside the door and pressed it. He noted the

presence of a camera and a speaker. He placed his badge in plain view of the camera.

“Who are you?” The voice sounded like it was ready for a fight.

“Jason Parley.” Parley put his badge in his pocket. “Open the door for me.”

“Or what?” The question might have been innocent enough, or maybe the owner felt

that Parley wouldn’t do anything since he was a cop.

“I start breaking your decor.” Parley picked up a vase with a bunch of flowers in it.

“When I am done, I will burn the place down whether you open the door, or not.”

“Put that down.” The voice didn’t quite sound scared.

“Oops.” Parley opened his hands and dropped the vase. He caught it before it could

hit the floor. “I wonder how many pieces I can break this into with one kick.”

The door hissed open. The group of men looking at him were not the picture of

happiness. He smiled at them as he put the vase back on its stand.

“Hello, Slim.” Parley stepped into the room, identifying the one man who was not

nervous or angry that he was there. Slim Servo was a fair bodyguard with a realistic

expectation of what he could do in any situation. He had probably advised them not

to open the door under any circumstances on the grounds he couldn’t protect any of

them from Parley’s rage.

That earned a little respect from the King.

“What do you want, cop?” Tortelli was a tall man, bulky like his men, wearing a

better suit. He sat behind a desk with a glass top. Papers covered the top.

“You’re on trial for RICO charges.” Parley hooked his thumbs in his belt. “The

prosecution only has one witness. I am guarding that witness. Ordinarily, I would just

kill you and make my job that much easier. Naturally I would have to kill everyone

in this room to make sure there were no reprisals.”

The six men meeting with Tortelli drew back as if they had discovered a hungry lion

within touching distance.

“That’s some talk.” Tortelli leaned back from his desk. One hand tried to open a

drawer without his visitor noticing.

“If your hand pulls a weapon out of that drawer, you will see how prepared I am to

back my talk up.” Parley gave him a bored look. “The only one of you likely to

survive is Slim. That’s because he is closest to the door.”

The other men realized that Parley stood between them and the exit. If something

happened, they would have to roll over him to get out of the office. And they were

between the detective and Tortelli. Bullets would fly right through them if things

went bad.

Servo was on the other side, and could slide out of the room while the other men were

fighting for their lives.

“My partner feels I should let the criminal justice system do what it will.” Parley’s

expression showed how much he thought of that idea. “He doesn’t want to have to

explain why I kill every criminal I come across. I respect that. Paperwork is a pain.

That’s why I decided to give you options so I don’t have to hear the complaints.

“The first option is you leave the city, and don’t come back. You can run your

territory from somewhere else using the Internet.”

“I’m not doing that.” Tortelli was close to pulling the weapon from his desk. Only the

prior warning held him back.

“The second option is for you to stand your trial. As long as you leave my witness

alone, you can do whatever you want to get out of a conviction. If anything were to

happen to my witness, I will be unhappy and I will come back and kill you, your

associates, your family, suppliers, anyone even connected to your businesses in any

way.”

Parley’s delivery was cold and exact. His eyes had deadened into things like brown

marbles in his face.

“What else do you got?” Tortelli planned to grab the pistol in his desk and shoot this

crazy man. No one threatened him in his own home.

“I kill you all now.” Parley flexed his wrist, loosening up his arm. “Once I start, all

of you will have to die.”

Tortelli looked at Slim. The gunman had inched closer to the door. He was two steps

away from freedom. The boss had the idea that Slim had run into this guy before and

had a fair idea of what he could do.

And what he could do was kill everyone in the room.

“Let’s say I agree to this, what do I get out of this?” Tortelli put both hands on the top

of his desk.

“You get a fair warning whenever our paths cross.” Parley didn’t smile. “I’m only

interested in murders. Everything else is yours. If you kill anyone else in my city, it

had better be more justified than he was in my way.”

“What does that even mean?” Tortelli knew what it meant and he looked at the

lieutenants in the room. They knew what it meant too from the looks on their faces.

“It means that as long as your operations don’t kill anyone, you will probably not see

me again. If they do, I expect a name so I can arrest that person.” Parley looked

around the room. “It’s the same deal I gave Swift Morgan.”

“Swift Morgan is dead.” Tortelli wished he dared take a drink from the glass of water

in front of him. “He got chopped to pieces.”

“He chose option three.” Parley smiled. “Be seeing you, partner.”

He walked from the room.