Mortay’s eyes flickered to the side and Hondo turned to see one of the men against the wall raising a pistol. Hondo threw the knife and it buried to the hilt in the man’s shoulder. He screamed and the pistol clattered at his feet. The baldheaded man staggered inside and went behind the bar, reaching for something below the cash register.
Hondo ran for the doors and burst into daylight.
**
“And that’s where Ronny caught me as I fell,” Hondo said.
“Jesus,” Hunter said.
“It was my fault,” Hondo said. “I wanted Rakes so bad I got careless.”
I said, “You’re lucky Mortay likes the blade. If he favored pistols you might not be here.”
“Oh yeah, I feel real lucky. But you’re right.”
“Course I’m right. W
orld’s Most Infallible Investigator.”
“Most Phallic Investigator, is that what you said?” Hunter said.
“Hey, that’s not nice.”
Hondo started to smile, then coughed and we saw the pain go through him. He said, “Don’t make me laugh.”
“Us?” I said, “Hey, at least we’re not like Carl Rakes and are gonna piss at your throat. Can you imagine if that guy wrote a dictionary, how the words would look? Or worse, what if he did commercials? Think about him explaining Preparation H. Guy would be unbelievable.”
Hondo coughed and held up a hand in surrender. A nurse came in and went to him, looking concerned. She said, “You are aggravating him, and he’s been severely injured.”
I said, “Probably needs a chuckle-ectomy.” Hondo coughed.
The nurse shooed us from his room. No sense of humor, those nurses.
**
I started up Shamu as Hunter said, “Don’t go do anything crazy.”
“Me? What about you, the female version of Dirty Harry?”
“I’m just saying, we need to do this with cool heads, not let emotion rule.”
I said, “And we still haven’t found Bob Landman, who’s in big trouble for sure.”
“Right. So let’s cool down, figure our next move.”
“Sure,” I said. “I need to do one thing first. I’ll drop you at the office, then be back in an hour.”
Hunter looked at me, “Ronny...”
“Scout’s honor,” I said. “I’m not going after Rakes or Mortay.”
I dropped Hunter off and headed for Siberia on Sunset. I went inside and Frank Meadows was holding court on the couches with several younger exec types in casual Armani and wearing Rolexes on their tanned wrists.
Frank said to them, “The real hidden talent is fiscal management. Like I demand at Americas, we know where every penny is going, and where it comes from. Makes all the difference during those lean times between blockbusters.”
I walked up, “And you’d know all about those lean times, wouldn’t you, Frank. What is it, Americas Studios had produced the four biggest flops in the last five years, that about right?”
Frank’s right eye twitched as he looked at me, “Baca, this is a private conversation.”