GUMSHOES

Chapter 21 - New Rules

Wendell sat by the telephone listening as it rang down the line. When a voice answered with a rough hello, he hung up and held up a thumb to the others.

"So, old Jesús was right. Good thing we didn't let him bleed out," Jerome chuckled.

"Okay, we know Max is still around, so now we need to brace him about the whereabouts of this dame Dopacco or whatever it is."

"Don Parco,"  Fletcher corrected. "She's alone now after that Metro business, so she will have gone to ground."

"But Max may know or she might try contacting him. We need to get to him first." Wendell glanced at Audrey. "Uhm, do you think you could keep an eye on him while we go to--"

"Don't! Don't even think of asking, Wendell." Audrey glared at him and then equally at the others.

"I don't want to be alone here with her," Jesús pleaded.

Fletcher calmed the group and suggested Jerome stay with Audrey and Jesús. He and Wendell would go and visit Max. Audrey conceded, with the warning proviso that Wendell pick up the rest of the groceries. He swallowed hard and agreed readily as he fled the house with relief.

"She really has you guys cowed, doesn't she?"

"What? No. Not me, Jerome maybe." Wendell gripped the wheel and steered with angry focus.

"Right." Fletcher chuckled, catching the set of Wendell's jaw.

"Look, isn't that Undergove's car?" Wendell pulled to the curb, and they both looked up to the windows of Max's shop.

"What the hell would he be doing here?" Fletcher wondered, suddenly losing enthusiasm for their visit.

"Maybe it's a good thing. We can make him tell us why his reneged on the deal over Donny."

"Are you nuts? You want to go up against him about breaking a deal? The guy's a killer, Dankworth."

Wendell climbed out of the car, shifting the gun under his coat. "He also told me once he had a code."

"A code? What the hell- wait!" Fletcher scrambled out of the car after him. "What code? When were you talking to him?"

"Jerome and I ran into him early on in our investigation. We had to set him straight on a few things." Wendell held one hand as close to the camera as possible. and pushed the buzzer with the other.

Max flicked on the screen, cursing. "Some wag is hiding from the camera." The buzzer insisted.

"Let him in." Undergrove said.

"I don't know who it is. It could be trouble." Max worried.

"Nah, trouble is right here," he jabbed a strong thumb into his chest, "let him in."

A moment later Wendell and Fletcher entered the office, stopping just inside the door.

"You!" Max growled.

"You, and you!" Wendell replied. Fletcher and Undergrove both stood facing one another, guns aimed.

"You reneged on our deal, Benjamin."

"You weren't gonna pay anyway, you couldn't."

"Yeah? What about your code?"
"What? What do you know about my code?"

"I know plenty, don't you worry. So, what happened?"

"I happened." The voice was strong but calm, and they all turned to see Don Parco standing like a gunfighter, but holding her cigarette holder instead of a gun. "You boys should put all those guns away and we can discuss this like adults."

"Who's this?" Wendell demanded.

"My guess would be our client, Don Parco. Right, max?" Fletcher lowered his weapon and relaxed.

"Your client?" She strolled toward him, appraising. "You are- were one of Menken's boys?"

"That's right. I'm the one that found Max here, and had him make the mask you obviously decided to use."

"It was a masterpiece, and yes, I did express doubts. The question now is, what are you doing here?"

Wendell lifted a hand. "Hey, wait a minute. I'm the one that wants answers."

"Who is this little man?" Don Parco cast a weary eye over Wendell.

"Hey, lady, just who the he--"

"He's a private detective." Fletcher offered. Max and Benjamin both snickered. "Wendell, this is Don Parco DeTega, Jefe Madrina of Colombia's major cartel."

"Well show him out, we have business to discuss." She dismissed the introduction.

"Hold on a minute. Nobody's showing me out. Why don't you wait in the powder room until we've finished our business."

"Mr. Undergrove." Her words were a mix of query and command.

The gun came out again, aimed this time at Wendell, and he faltered in his bravado.

"Would be a very good idea, Mr. Dankworth." Benjamin looked sympathetic in spite of the gun.

"Wendell, listen to the man." Fletcher held his hands up in prayer. "Please."

"What happened to our deal?" He moved ahead of Benjamin's waving hand.

"Everyone responsible for your dad is gone - you saw the news."

"Oh, and so now it just changes hands and that makes it alright?"

Don Parco clapped her hands together and the room fell silent. "I don't know anything about your father, and frankly, I don't care - but!" She raised a hand when Wendell started back. "I'm willing to let you go without any trouble, if you leave now. Otherwise, Mr. Undergrove will utilize his skill."

Wendell preceded Benjamin down the stairs and into the street, turning on him the moment they were outside.

"So much for your personal code, eh? We kept our word about the hotel business, and what do you do, you stiff us after we took you into our home?"

"Took me into- what the hell!" The voice went even higher than Wendell remembered.

"That's right. We had a deal. You and Fletcher and the rest of us, we had a deal about Donny, and you lied to us."

"Well naughty me." He closed on Wendell. "Get this straight, gumshoe, Fletcher never could or would have paid my fee, and neither could you. What I did solved your problem anyway. Donny's gone with the rest of Menken's mob."

"So now it's a new mob. You, Max, and the Dragon Lady upstairs. And what about Fletcher now?"

Benjamin put his gun away and pushed Wendell gently back against the store front.

"A word of advice, gumshoe, take what you have now as a win, and go home. Miss Hall poses a better future for you than meddling in our affairs will. Call us even 'cause from now on, it's a new game. Now buzz off."

The threat made Wendell's throat close, and he had trouble swallowing. This was the crime his dad had tried to stop - the trafficking - and it had cost him his life. These people had entered his own life, some even helping him in a way. The original gang was gone. His dad could be considered avenged . . . but the roots were still there. He straightened his jacket and stared up at the building. No, by God. Dankworth and Weeble were not done.