Kill Vascensa. Kill a secondary target that I would get the morning of the hit. Kill myself.
These are the terms that I agreed to pull the hit on. In return, I got one million dollars two days in advance. I'd also agreed to be watched for those two days, so as not to take the money and skip town. Besides, who am I to turn down a mil?
On a Friday, I think it was the fifth, Callahan's goon brought me the money. By noon, I had spent a quarter of a mil. I had spent it on a little gizmo for my gun. I seen in a movie once, this guy just flicks his wrist, then, in the blink of an eye, he's holding a knife. He had the knife in a spring loaded cartridge wrapped around his wrist. So, I says to myself, "Vince, why don't you get one of those made for your gun?" Being in my line of work and all, I thought it was a pretty good idea. So, when Callahan offered me the hit, I arranged with him to have one made for me. He said it would cost a quarter of a mil, due to the highly illegal nature, so I tell him the hit will cost a mil for the same reason.
At five o'clock the next day, after I got the money, I went to the church to see Father Muldoon. He wasn't in, so I left the manila envelope in the poor box. It had seven hundred thousand in it. That box was poor no more! What good would it have done me, anyways? I was gonna be dead in eighteen hours.
That night, I went to a local strip joint called "Hearts In Bloom". And let me tell you, the hearts weren't the only things blooming in there. I gave this cute little redheaded girl, that had used a Bengal tiger in her act, the last fifty grand. I told her to go get herself an education, instead of letting pukes like me look at her every night. And, to go get a lot of cat food for Simba. I mean, she reminded me of my kid sister, God rest her soul. Plus, I kinda liked the thing with the big cat.
All night long, I was deep in thought. What makes an Irishman hate an Italian so bad, that he gives a suicide case a million bucks to pull this hit?
And what makes the Italian hate the Irishman so bad, that he'd made the same deal with me a week earlier?
I spent Vascensa's money almost the same way as I spent Callahan's money, except for the first quarter mil. I sent it to the orphanage where me and my kid sister grew up. That place was, and still is, a festering shithole. Hopefully, with the money, they can take care of those kids the way they deserve. maybe none of them will die from pneumonia like Jeannie did.
I called the front desk to have my mail brought up to me. I loaded my gun while I waited. The desk clerk brought up a newspaper and two envelopes. I reached into my pocket to tip the guy and come up empty handed. I forgot I had given the tiger chick the last of the money. I opened my wallet and the only thing in there was lottery ticket. I handed it to him and shut the door before he could say anything.
I still couldn't figure out why they hated each other so bad. Callahan owned a string of bars in Manhattan. Vascensa owned several restaurants. I mean, hell, you think they would want to be partners instead of wanting to kill each other! I couldn't see the angle. Then, I started reading the newspaper. Right there, in between the horoscopes and Beetle Bailey, was a wedding announcement.
ALEX CALLAHAN TO WED MARIA VASCENSA
I picked up the first envelope. It had a big cursive V on the front of it, so I knew it was from Vascensa. I opened it up to get the name of the other target. My jaw almost hit the floor. The card had one name on it: Alex Callahan. The other envelope had the Callahan family coat of arms on it. I held the envelope up to my forehead, like Johnny Carson used to do. I could see the name in the envelope even before I broke the seal. Maria Vascensa. I thought about what the play was here, but, ultimately I knew what I had to do. I had made deals with these men after all.
It was time for the hit. I had reservations, for one, at one of Vascensa's restaurants. Vascensa and Callahan were both there, sitting at a table with their kids. God, but those kids looked in love. I hated myself for what I was about to do, but, these men had paid me huge sums of money for my services. Vascensa and Callahan, one at a time, without drawing attention to themselves, looked at me and nodded. That was the signal. The two assholes never even noticed each other signal me. I got up and walked over to the table.
"Alex Callahan? Maria Vascensa?" I asked.
"Yes", Maria said as she looked up at me and smiled. These two kids were gonna be together forever.
"You kids say goodbye to your Daddy's" I said.
I flicked my wrist and the gun fell right into my hand. Callahan smiled as he saw that my little gadget had worked. I turned and fired a shot at Vascensa. It entered his head just under his left eye and exited, well, it exited just about everywhere. Then, I pivoted my weight and shot Callahan right between the eyes. The force of the shot knocked him and his chair over. I looked at the kids, but they were in shock. I put the still warm barrel of the gun in my mouth and fired.
Only, I'm not dead am I? The doctors said that the gun misfired somehow and the bullet lodged between my brain and skull. Everybody always said that I had a hard head. I've got no use of my mouth or voice anymore, due to the entry wound, and powder burns, and stuff like that. I'm paralyzed everywhere except my right arm due to the bullet rubbing around on my brain. The bitch of it is, I got put into a maximum security prison for double homicide. Two days later, that lottery ticket hit the biggest jackpot in history. A hotel desk clerk is a multi-millionaire and a one armed hitman is under heavy surveillance.
So, I get two hours a week for "recreational time", not that I can have too much fun with only one arm. Some publisher asked me if I would write my story. He said it paid a million dollars. So, here I am, typing with one arm. A letter at a time. Two hours a week. Besides, who am I to turn down a mil?
