Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (32 page)

His next stop was at a phone booth where he
called the number at the car lot. A woman answered, “Franks used
car lot, this is Sally, what’cha need?”

“How late are you open tonight?”

“Franks gonna be here till seven
tonight.”

“This is Joseph; I want to speak to
Frank.”

“Hang on a sec; he’s out side, he’s been
expecting you to call.”

After a few minutes a man spoke, “Hey!
Joseph. I understand you need some wheels. I got just the thing for
you, nice late model sedans. You’ll like them. Come by and pick
them up at your convenience.”

“I want them delivered. The first one goes to
the Princess Theater on Euclid Street. There’s a parking…”

“Hey, pal. I don’t deliver. You come here and
pick it up or go somewhere else.”

“Did the people who lined this up agree to
pay you?”

“Yeah, they did. They paid me for the use of
two cars for a month.”

“Then quit fucking around wasting my time and
do what I’m telling you or the deals off. Of course you understand
the goons won’t be happy if they have to visit you again,
asshole.”

“Hey fella, listen to me, I don’t have to
take any crap from you.”

Very calmly Clay told Frank, “You can either
do as I’m asking or die if I have to come down there. Make up your
mind quick; I don’t have time to play your silly fucking games. A
deal was made to get two cars to me and you had better make good on
it damn fast.”

“O.K., O.K. I get the picture, where do you
want them.”

“Thank you. There’s a parking lot beside the
Princess theater on Euclid off of the one way street in front of
it. Park there at three forty five, leave the keys on the floor,
buy a ticket for the four o’clock matinee and go inside for at
least fifteen minutes. What kind of car is it, and what color shirt
or jacket will you be wearing?”

“I’ll send Sally with a 71 Oldsmobile; a gray
four door sedan. She’s thirtyish, brunette, plump, and wears a red
coat. Where do you want the other car?”

Clay replied, “I’ll call you,” and ended the
conversation.

By then it was a quarter of three so he found
a local deli where he grabbed a poorboy and a Coke and then drove
to Euclid Street. He left his car on the parking lot of a grocery
store two blocks away and devoured the sandwich as he walked toward
the theater. When he placed the moustache on his lip he must have
gotten it a little low because it kept getting in his food. As he
neared the street in front of the theater, he donned dark
sunglasses, slapped a long billed cap on his head and pulled up the
hood of his sweatshirt. Standing on the corner of the “T”
intersection he watched for the gray Oldsmobile with a brunette in
a red coat, to come down the through street and turn into the one
way side street. After twelve minutes he spotted her. She was in
the right lane, slowing to make the turn around the corner.
Maneuvering to the edge of the curb he stepped off just as she
started to turn and walked in front of the car as she jammed on the
brakes.

He reached the drivers side of the car while
she was still cussing him and leaned close to the window to say,
“I’m Joseph, open the door Sally.”

The door opened and Sally said, “But I’m
supposed to park and go in the theater.”

“Change of plans sweetie, here’s twenty
dollars, take a cab home. Bye.”

Cars behind him were honking and people on
the sidewalk had curious looks on their faces as they observed the
scene in front of them. Clay slid behind the wheel and quickly
drove away. In the rear view mirror he saw Sally standing in the
middle of the street, still clutching a twenty in her hand and
still wearing a dumbfounded look on her face.

Not knowing the players involved in the
arrangements made for him, he had decided not to take any chances
with his identity being revealed. If the other hitters had also
requested cars he could easily be set up if one of them made a deal
with the car lot owner; assuming all the cars had been furnished by
Frank. Tony was correct in assuming the other hitters may be as big
a challenge as the Feds. After parking the Oldsmobile at the motel
parking lot he took a taxi back to the grocery store where his own
car was parked. Inside the store he went to the deli and bought hot
food, and cold beer to take back to his room. As he ate a roasted
chicken and drank two beers he considered his next move. This one
also could be tricky.

Leaving the motel he walked to a phone booth
and called a local cab for a ride to Frank’s car lot. Before the
ride arrived he donned the moustache and glasses again.

The cabbie was directed to let him out at a
corner with a phone booth one block away from the car lot. As the
cab pulled away he was making another call to Frank.

“Frank’s used cars,” answered a voice Clay
recognized from the earlier call.

“This is Joseph. I’m ready for my other
car.”

“Hey Joseph, what the hell was the switch
about? Poor Sally was all confused. Of course it don’t take much to
confuse her. Anyway, she already left for the day so you’ll have to
get the other car tomorrow.”

“Sorry Frank, but I’m ready for it tonight.
Drop it off at the bus station parking lot over on twenty second
street when you leave tonight.”

“Hey, wise guy, this is Saturday and I’ve got
a hot date.”

“Then you had better close up and leave now
so you won’t be late.”

Clay hung up the phone and quickly started
jogging to the car lot in the next block. As he approached the lot
he saw a man inside the office gesturing with his left arm before
hanging up the phone. Next the lights in the office went out and
the man stepped outside the door and locked it. He carried a set of
license plates in his right hand and walked to the nearest exit
where he stretched the chain across the entry and snapped a padlock
on it. Turning around he began walking toward the other end of the
lot. Clay jumped the low slung chain at the edge of the lot and ran
toward the tall heavyset man who appeared to be about thirty eight.
The man heard him running and turned toward him.

“I’ll take the keys Frank, I’m Joseph,” Clay
said.

“God damn it, don’t you ever follow through
with any arrangements you make? What the fuck kind of deal is
this?”

“Go cry to somebody who gives a shit, I’m in
a hurry.” Shoving the man up against the side of a car he put the
pistol, still in his right pocket, against the man’s stomach where
he could feel the barrel poking into him.

Frank carefully pulled keys from his jacket
pocket and said, “Here pal, the green New Yorker is yours.”

“Who were you talking to on the phone a
minute ago?”

“I wasn’t on the phone I was out here locking
up.”

Clay pushed the pistol harder into the man’s
stomach to distract him and at the same time removed his left hand
from his jacket pocket and hit the bigger man with an uppercut to
the jaw with a brass knuckle. The man went down, falling to Clay’s
right, cursing and raising both arms to protect his head from the
additional blows he anticipated. Squatting down between the cars
and over Frank, he put the gun to Frank’s forehead and said,”
You’ll tell me or I’ll kill you right here, make up your mind. You
have two seconds.”

“Alright, you crazy son of a bitch. It was
some gal. She picked up a car too. Said I was to call her if
anybody else got one. She was pissed because she missed you
yesterday and said if I didn’t call her again she’d kill me. What’s
with all you fucking wackos wanting to kill everybody?”

“What does she look like? Quick, talk.”

“She must be about thirty two, medium height,
a little bit chubby, black hair, lots of makeup, dressed real nice,
had on a business suit with pants, and she wore wire rim
glasses.”

“What kind of car did she get?”

“A new red Monte Carlo.”

“Were arrangements made for anyone besides
her to be provided with a car?”

“No. You two were the only ones.”

“You’d better not be lying to me. If you see
her or hear from her again, tell her you didn’t see me, I knocked
you out and took the keys as you stepped out of the office. If you
tell anybody about me I’ll come back and personally beat you to
death; one punch at a time. Do you believe me?”

Frank was nodding his head affirmatively, his
wide open eyes fixed on Clay’s face when Clay stood up, turned
slightly away while Frank lowered his arms, and then hit him on the
side of the head, knocking him out. He pulled Frank behind the line
of cars and left him lying on the ground, then clipped the dealer
plates to his car. Driving the Chrysler through the remaining
unchained exit, he drove off the lot in the direction of the bus
station.

Two blocks from the station he parked on a
side street and walked to his destination warily. Knowing Sally may
have described his appearance to Frank earlier, before his
competitor called, he pitched the sweatshirt and removed the
moustache and glasses. When he was approaching the station he
pulled a can of beer from his pocket, opened it and took a hefty
swallow. Walking erratically he imitated the stumbling drunk
patrons he had seen many times leaving the Twelfth Street Saloon.
The red Monte Carlo wasn’t parked on the street or at the small bus
station parking lot reserved for drop-offs, pickups and ticket
buyers. He really didn't expect to see one but looked anyway.
Stopping often to lean against a support or to sit on the sidewalk
he slowly make his way down the street. Clay surveyed the
businesses across the street as well as the activity around the
station but didn’t see the woman he was searching for.

Since Frank had been used to provide cars to
at least one of the other hitters competing for the grand prize
Clay decided to ditch both of Franks cars after three or four days
and start stealing his own. It was impossible to tell how much
information had been passed to the woman driving the red Monte
Carlo, or to anyone else.

For the next hour Clay played the homeless
drunk; pan handling for change to buy his supper and a beer. All of
the people on the street were of interest to him, but the women
held special interest, especially those of medium height who were a
little overweight. Down the street a police cruiser with two
officers in it pulled up to the curb near where he had been
accosting people for hand outs. Across the street from him a
slender blond of medium height, wearing a dark blue skirt and a
yellow blazer, had just stepped out of a small diner. She stood on
the sidewalk for several minutes watching the activity in front of
the bus station. She began crossing the street at an angle to take
her past the main entrance to the bus station; she too was casting
her glance in several directions, as if looking for something or
someone. Her pace was quick, and as she reached the sidewalk she
continued to walk past and away from Clay. He began to follow her,
but was approached by the two policemen.

“Hey fella, you weren’t mooching money from
people outside the bus station just now, were you?”

“Yeah officer I was. I’m out of work and down
on my luck and just need some change to buy a meal.” Clay spoke
softly and hesitantly, keeping his head lowered.

“I ought to run you in for being a public
nuisance.”

“Please don’t officer, I want to work but
times are just rough for me right now.”

“Well, you can’t beg here or I’ll run you in
for vagrancy. I haven’t seen you here before and don’t want to see
you again. Get away from here and go find a job. There’s a homeless
shelter over on George Street, two blocks over and down two blocks
where you can get a meal and spend the night for a quarter. Here’s
the quarter. Now get out of my sight before I lose my good Irish
nature and change my mind. And get rid of the beer can. You know
you can’t drink on the street in public view.”

“Thanks officer, you won’t regret letting me
off. I’ll go there tonight, I promise.” Clay pocketed the quarter
and kept his head down as he moved around the cops heading in the
same direction the blond had taken. He had taken about fifty steps
when he saw a red Monte Carlo pull up to the stop sign at the
corner two hundred feet away. Only the car was driven by a red head
wearing a yellow jacket. As he suspected, Frank had been on the
phone setting him up. “Damn it, I wonder if she spotted me and
knows what I look like now? Surely not,” he answered himself, “or
she wouldn’t have continued to look around the area as if searching
for someone.” He still didn’t know exactly what she looked like,
but had learned she could change her appearance at will. The broad
certainly wasn’t plump and could prove to be a real danger.

It was almost eight thirty and fully dark, so
he drove over to the A.I. again. He parked three blocks away and
observed the top floor of the motel on the east side until after
eleven o’clock. He made a note that the drapes on all of the
windows were closed, but he could see light through slight openings
at the ends of the curtains in about half the rooms. They were
leaving lights on in some of the unoccupied rooms. A clever way to
prevent anyone from knowing which room was currently being
used.

Day Three - Sunday

The next morning he was up at six thirty and
at the A.I. before seven thirty. He parked under the top floor of a
four story parking garage two blocks away on the West side of the
motel. Sitting in the passenger seat he was able to scrunch low in
the seat and use the binoculars to observe the top floors of the
building. At five minutes past eight the drapes of a room near the
north end of the building opened fully. At eight sixteen the
curtains of the window to the right were opened. Clay watched a
woman in a service uniform walk away from the window each time. At
eight thirty eight the curtains on the window to the right were
closed and two minutes later the same woman closed the coverings on
the other window. Clay felt he had learned a major piece of
information until he realized he didn’t know if the rooms were
being cleaned before or after being occupied.