The Lucifer Messiah by Frank Cavallo Page B

you’re talking to? Who my brother is?” Boasting seemed to be the only card she had left to play. “He’ll feed you your balls you bastard, bringing a gun into my place!”
    He wasn’t listening, and he proved it by aiming the weapon at a lamp on a small wooden table.
    â€œWe’re old friends. I don’t think he’d mind,” Vince chided.
    He cleared his throat. His thumb brought the hammer back into a cocked position. The barrel caught a glimmer of the lamplight.
    â€œThis? Well, this he might mind.”
    With a calm squeeze of the trigger, a single bullet sizzled across the room. It burst the lamp like a glass balloon. The blast exploded in Maria’s ears, knocking her against the wall. A ringing concussion effect throbbed through her head. Squeals erupted from the kids in the next room.
    She dropped her spoon as her muscles tensed involuntarily. Gray, hot smoke burned her nostrils and stung her eyes. Shards of glass and wood were suddenly splayed all over the floor.
    One shot had turned her apartment into a war zone.
    Momentarily startled, the display only seemed to make her angrier. Once she got her footing back she screamed, though she could barely hear her own voice.
    â€œYou think you can just come in here and start shooting this place up! You fucking asshole! You think someone won’t call the police!”
    For all it did to inflame her senses, the shot had calmed Vince’s nerves. The smell of the gunpowder was familiar, a rather long-forgotten sensation. He inhaled it deeply from the warm air. He enjoyed it a little too much.
    After his lungs were sated, he replied with a quiet cool, like a gunfighter caricature in a John Ford movie.
    â€œNot in this neighborhood. I used to be a cop. Theywon’t be here for a while. Trust me.”
    â€œ
Gesù! Pazzo Schemal!
”
    â€œThe old lingo ain’t gonna do it, honey. Sorry. Now, where is he? The sooner you tell me, the sooner I’ll be outta your hair.”
    â€œGoddamn you!”
    Vince sighed. He didn’t want to go to the next obvious step, but the woman was pushing him.
    â€œOkay.”
    Ralphie had poked his head in from the kitchen. Maria saw him. She screamed at him to move. But he didn’t. She knew Vince was pointing the gun at him without even looking.
    The other kids were wailing. She could hardly move.
    â€œOkay. Okay.
Basta! Basta!
” she pleaded, trembling at the very thought.
    Vince, quietly thankful that the lady had bought into his bluff, let the gun drop to his side. With a collected stride he stepped over a broken vase and moved closer to Maria. This time his voice was lower, but no less forceful.
    â€œWhere is he?”
    Tears burst out of her fierce eyes. They were already streaming down her face by the time he got over to her.
    â€œI don’t know exactly,” she sobbed.
    Vince raised his eyebrows. For a moment he lifted the gun again.
    â€œI swear to God okay? I’ll tell you what I know. He’s in Jersey.”
    â€œJersey? What the hell’s he doin’ there?”
    Maria was almost too rattled to answer. Slowly she managed to compose herself enough to say something.
    â€œHe’s resting. You want to know where? Here’s the address.” Hands quivering, she reached over to the table, fished out a small piece of paper from a pile of notes and handed it to Vince. “Take it and get the hell outta here.”
    â€œYou gotta be kiddin’ me,” Vince mumbled when he read what was written on the scrap.
    â€œWhat?” Maria questioned, still indignant despite everything.
    â€œNothin’. You’ve been a big help Mrs. Torriella. When I see your brother I’ll let him know.”
    Vince slipped his gun back into his coat and calmly stepped out the door, a scattered mess of an apartment left behind him.
    â€œI hope you rot in hell!” she shouted as he left.

EIGHTEEN
    T HE B LEECKER S TREET H AVEN WAS