Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (17 page)

“I’ll do it,” Clay said quietly, without even
thinking through what he was committing himself to. “Don’t look at
me like I've got two heads. Why should it surprise you I’d take a
job like this? It’s something I’ve already proven I’m good at, so
why not make some money by taking out a low life scumbag?"

Tony leaned forward, utterly amazed! "Kid
this isn't...."

"Look, the labor B.A. wants to make me squirm
and suffer before he puts me back to work, if he ever does. I’m at
the point where I don’t ever want to go back and have to crawl for
the bastard. This gives me a way to go around him and make money to
last until he gets tired of fucking with me or I tell him to go to
hell.”

Tony had a look of incredibility on his face
as he tried to reason with him. “Clay, listen to me. This is not
something you just jump into, going around whacking strangers. The
guys who become hitters are different and everybody treats them
like they’re different. You don’t realize what you’re getting into.
Are you thinking about the emotional strain of whacking people you
don’t have any personal grudge against? There’s a big difference
between taking somebody out who’s a threat to you or your job, and
killing people just for the money. And are you prepared to be a
loner the rest of your life? Most of the guys don’t want to
associate with professional hitters because they get uneasy around
them. You’re always wondering if there’s a contract on you and the
hitter is just getting close to you to set up a clean hit.”

“No, I really hadn’t thought any of this
through because there wasn’t a need to. I didn’t think I’d ever
have to kill anyone again so the possibility of doing this never
came up. But now my situation is different. I don't have any other
options and I need money.”

“Hell, if you need money kid just name the
amount and I’ll loan it to you. And for as long as you need it at
zero interest.” Then Tony had another thought, “You aren’t planning
to start doing this full time, are you?"

“I don’t know, I was just thinking of the one
hit to make some fast money, but yeah, I guess I am open to it,
especially since I don’t have another job and the money is
good.”

“Today is Tuesday. I want you to take until
Friday to think this through. I’ll have to clear it through
Ricarddi and the Commission members before I can use you again, or
recommend you to other associates. Be sure you know what you’re
getting into and you can handle it. I really think you’ll be making
a mistake, but I also told you if you ever needed anything I’d help
you with it. So, even though I disagree with you I’ll do what I can
to get you started if you insist on going through with it."

“Tony, think about it. I killed a man I
didn’t know because he attacked me. Then I killed Jerry O’Neil
because he was responsible for Jimmy dying. That one was as
premeditated as they get. And then I laid out the plan and led the
attack on the people who tried to kill you. My God Tony, I’ve
already been responsible for more deaths than most soldiers who go
to war.”

“I just want to be sure you can handle this
long term and not regret your decision.”

“And I appreciate your concern. But I’ve
lived every day with the fact I killed two people over two years
ago, and for the last six months I’ve lived with knowing I caused
the death of over thirty people. I am living with it. And I can
continue to live with it. But if you feel strongly about my waiting
until Friday to give you an answer, I'll do it; however, I’m
confident what the answer will be. I do ask one condition in
return. Call your contact in Memphis and tell him you do have an
experienced hit man, but he will have to wait until Friday for you
to get approval and make a firm commitment.”

“O.K. Clay, I’ll make the call, but answer
one question for me. WHY are you so dead set against coming into
business with me? I don’t have anyone to leave this to and in a few
years the whole thing would be yours.”

“I don’t know what it is, but I just don’t
warm up to the business side of the rackets you run. It’s certainly
not a moral issue; but somehow I just don’t look forward to the
long term daily grind, plus looking over my shoulder watching for
whoever wants to bump me off, or the police wanting to send me to
prison. Doing the individual assignments of killing dirt bags
brings the full responsibility for success or failure directly upon
my shoulders. I don’t have a bad feeling about doing this. It’s
almost like being paid to do community service work.”

Tony chuckled and said “I’ve never heard it
described like that, but I guess it's one way to look at it.”

Clay spent the next three days evaluating the
possibility of becoming a professional killer. Although there had
been several rough weeks during which he had awoken from nightmares
in which there were people screaming and dying while he fired
bullets into their thrashing bodies, he had learned to live with it
and keep the images at bay. He had also learned to avoid dwelling
on the moral and ethical aspects of it and had accepted his role as
a solution to a problem others had forced on the people around
him.

Actually, he’d recently had brief flashes
where he had thought about the possibility of developing his
apparent skills for planning murders and making money doing it.
Instinctively he had pushed those thoughts out of his mind, mostly
because of his relationship with his mother and a desire to
maintain contact with her. But what if she wasn’t the primary
reason he had procrastinated? What if he had not gone forward
simply because he didn’t know how to go about getting set up and
how to approach potential customers? One thing he hadn’t even
considered in his decision was the fact he would need to get
approval from the Chicago mob even to work alone.

Tony had given him ten thousand dollars in
cash for his past work and in a way he was already a hired gun.
Granted, that one time didn’t make him an experienced professional,
but it could be a start. It was ironic the opportunity had come
just when he was vulnerable due to being out of work and short of
money.

On Friday morning he made a list of clothing
resale shops in the local area run by charitable organizations.
Driving from shop to shop he started filling a list of items he had
made the previous evening; used sweat suits, running shoes, two
aluminum baseball bats and several more miscellaneous items he felt
might be useful.

After lunch he made another visit to the
Twelfth Street Saloon. He carried a list of ideas and a business
proposal to discuss with Tony.

“Well kid, are you still set on being a hit
man?” Tony asked when they had moved upstairs to the privacy of his
office.

“Yeah Tony, I haven’t changed my mind. Were
you able to get me approved?”

“Well, apparently there was a lot of
discussion, but in the end Ricarddi pointed out something we don't
normally discuss openly to the other members of the Commission.
Most of the hits the group makes are clumsy and too often some of
our people get caught. Even when they’re not convicted there’s a
stink in the papers and our names are rehashed again and again.
They were all impressed with the job you did on O’Neil and the big
one for me. Some of them will even use you for the more difficult
hits. So you’re approved but I have to hold onto your leash and
take responsibility for you.”

“Are you alright with it?”

“Yeah, I’m alright with it. Just don’t screw
up. And if you do screw up and get caught, understand this, you’re
on your own and you don’t say a thing about me or my associates, or
you’re a dead man. If you talked it would be my responsibility to
kill you; and I’d do it.”

“That's not a problem. Now, I have some ideas
to run by you and a proposition to make.”

“O.K., tell me what you have in mind.”

“I thought about what you said about how
hitters are ostracized by most people, even in your line of work.
First, what if I don’t advertise what I’m doing, but rely on you to
pass work on to me, for a ten percent cut of the fee? Just like on
this one. This way there’s no direct tie to me from the customer
and I don’t personally build a reputation people know about. I’ll
stay in the shadows and be obscure. Also, it lets you take jobs
only from people you trust and believe can hold up under possible
interrogation by the police. Secondly, I only work for bosses at
the top of crime families, or special situations where you feel you
can rely on the people involved. Third, and this is not negotiable,
I only do people involved in criminal activities. I won’t do
somebody’s wife just because some cheap rich bastard doesn’t want
to pay for a divorce. Fourth, I won’t do kids. Nobody under the age
of eighteen, and even then it will have to be a special case.
Fifth, I’ll only work in the U.S. and sixth, I don’t want any high
profile targets like Senators or a President. What do you
think?”

Tony had been listening attentively; he rose
slowly and crossed the room to retrieve a bottle of bourbon and two
glasses. Setting back down at the table he poured the glasses half
full of whiskey and slid one across the table toward Clay. Leaning
back in his chair Tony stared past Clay and was deep in thought,
going over the details presented to him. Finally, after several
minutes he replied slowly and softly “I like it. Jobs will be slow
to come in at first until word gets around, but then you’ll have
all the business you’ll want to handle. There are only a small
handful of top notch professional hitters around. Are you sure I
can’t talk you out of this? I guess I’m selfish, but I’d really
like to have you working with me. O.K., O.K. I can see by your look
you’re not going to be talked out of this.”

Clay cut in, “I also have a list of items I
want provided by each customer about the target. They’re simple
things like a description of the targets car, license plate number,
home and work address’, phone number, a picture of the target and
any other useful information. Like, things the target does
regularly, church on Sunday morning, routine exercise appointments,
weekly supper with parents, drinking at a certain bar every
Saturday night etc.”

“O.K. kid, I said if there was any way I
could repay you all you had to do was ask, so I’ll be your manager.
But, there won’t be any fee charged, I still owe you big time. With
out you I’d probably have been killed seven months ago.”

Tony leaned over toward a table near the
wall, grabbed a telephone and placed it on the table in front of
him. “I’ll call Auggie in Memphis and get you set up right now.” He
dialed the number and waited for the party to answer. “Auggie, Tony
Giliano. About the matter we discussed last week, the man I’ve got
is available to take care of your problem. Yeah the price is what
we discussed, in cash and up front. Get the money to me and things
will be put in motion. Don’t worry about the guy’s name, he’s good
and reliable. No, no, I’m positive if things were to go sour this
guy wouldn’t talk. He knows the game and I trust him. The best part
is nothing will go wrong, because this guy covers all the bases and
is the most disciplined and competent hitter I’ve ever seen. Now,
write this down. I’m gonna give you a list of information he wants
up front. Auggie; quit your bitchin and write.”

While Tony read the list of information Clay
had requested, Clay thought to himself, there’s no turning back
now. I’m committed. I hope I don’t come to regret what I’m getting
myself into. But I don’t think I will or I wouldn’t have come this
far with it.

When Tony got off the phone he told Clay,
“The money and the information will be delivered here Sunday
afternoon. You’re all set.”

“Well, not quite,” Clay replied. “I’d like to
borrow three thousand dollars from you until the payment comes in.
And I’ll need to know who to contact to pick up a .38 caliber
automatic with a silencer, a good high powered rifle with a scope,
ammunition for both guns, and a set of brass knuckles. Also, when I
head to Memphis Monday morning I’d like to stop by your farm and do
some target practice with both guns.”

Tony poured more whisky into both glasses and
the two men made a toast, “You’ve got it, and here’s to a
successful first hit and a long and prosperous career.”

Sunday afternoon Clay picked up the money and
information packet from Tony. As Clay was heading for the door to
leave Tony said, “When you get back from Memphis, I plan to have a
surprise for you.”

At home, after the family finished dinner,
Clay said goodnight to his mother and went to his room. He had told
her he was leaving for a couple of weeks just to get away from
things for awhile. She didn’t know he was running close on money,
but had expressed concern about his being off work for so long.

In his room, Clay removed the nine inch by
twelve inch manila envelope from under his mattress and reviewed
the contents. A newspaper clipping showed a middle aged man
identified as Harold Carlton Holland to be in his early fifties and
slightly over weight. His appeared to be a man few people would
take notice of; one of the many people who drift through life
without leaving a mark, unless they commit acts akin to what this
cretin would be eliminated for doing. The face showed a sullen,
cold look with rather boyish features for a man of middle age; a
sort of grown up pouting expression. The man wore black plastic
framed glasses and had a flat top hair cut. The clipping gave a
brief account of the last trial when Holland had been released. A
year old copy of a police report gave the man’s age as fifty two,
height five feet eleven inches, with a weight of two hundred and
fifteen pounds. The report indicated he had no distinguishing marks
or tattoos, listed a last known home address, and gave a nickname
of “Cooter”. A hand written note on a piece of standard lined paper
gave the description of a car and license number along with the
information Holland lived with his mother at the address indicated
and the car belonged to her. The only information provided on
“Cooter’s” routine habits showed he occasionally attended services
at a nearby Baptist church on Sunday morning with his mother, and
jogged almost daily at a local park.