Free The Cold Six Thousand by James Ellroy

shook his head. Pete grabbed his belt. Pete dragged him. Jack kicked out at tables and chairs.
    Ward walked over. Pete dumped Jack by the runway. The dogs yapped and growled.
    Pete walked to the bar. Pete grabbed a fifth of Schenley’s. Pete grabbed some dog treats.
    He dumped the treats. The dogs tore in. Ward scoped the jug. Ward was a lush. Ward was on the wagon. Booze turned him to mush.
    They pulled chairs up. Jack sobbed. Jack wiped his schnoz. The dogs snarfed the treats. The dogs waddled and wheezed. The dogs crapped out cold by the runway.
    Jack sat up. Jack hugged his knees. Jack braced his back on the slats. Pete grabbed a stray glass. Pete dumped ice dregs and poured Schenley’s.
    Jack studied his shoes. Jack squeezed his Jew star on a chain.
    Pete said, “
L’chaim.
”
    Jack looked up. Pete waved the glass. Jack shook his head. Ward twirled the gun. Ward cocked the hammer.
    Jack grabbed the glass. His hand shook. Pete clamped it down. Jack imbibed. Jack coughed and gasped. Jack held it down.
    Ward said, “You’ve been saying someone should do it all weekend.”
    Pete said, “You’ll do eighteen months tops. You’ll get your own fucking motorcade when you get out.”
    Ward said, “You’ll own this town.”
    Pete said, “He clipped that Tippit guy. Every cop in Dallas will love you.”
    Ward said, “Your money worries are over as of this moment.”
    Pete said, “Think about it. A tax-free pension for life.”
    Jack said, “No.” Jack shook his head.
    Ward waved the gun. Ward spun the drum. Ward aimed at Jack’s head. He pulled the trigger
two times
. He got two dry clicks.
    Jack sobbed. Jack prayed—heavy-duty hebe shit.
    Pete poured him a refill—three fingers of Schenley’s—Jack shook his head. Pete grabbed his neck. Pete cleared his pipes. Pete force-fed him hard.
    Jack kept it down. Jack coughed and gasped.
    Pete said, “We’ll fix up the club and let your sister Eva run it.”
    Ward said, “Or we’ll kill all your brothers and sisters.”
    Pete said, “She’ll make a mint. This place will be a national monument.”
    Ward said, “Or we’ll torch it to the ground.”
    Pete said, “Are you getting the picture?”
    Ward said, “Do you understand your options?”
    Pete said, “If you say no, you die. If you say yes, you’ll have the world by the balls. If you blow the job, it’s ‘
Shalom
, Jack,’ you tried, but we don’t appreciate failure, and it’s too bad we have to take out your whole fucking family, too.”
    Jack said, “No.”
    Pete said, “We’ll find a nice home for your dogs. They’ll be glad to see you when you get out.”
    Ward said, “Or we’ll kill you.”
    Pete said, “Your tax troubles will disappear.”
    Ward said, “Or everyone you love will die.”
    Jack said, “No.” Pete cracked his knuckles. Ward pulled a belt sap—a hose chunk packed with double-aught buck.
    Jack stood up. Pete pushed him down. Jack reached for the jug. Pete poured it out. Pete saved a chaser.
    Jack said, “No.
No no no no no
.”
    Ward sapped him—one rib shot—whap.
    Jack balled up. Jack kissed his Jew star. Jack bit his tongue.
    Ward grabbed his belt. Ward dragged him. Ward kicked him into his office. Ward kicked the door shut.
    Pete laughed. Jack lost a shoe and a tie clip. Ward lost his glasses.
    Pete heard thump sounds. Jack screamed. The dogs woke up. Pete popped aspirin and Schenley’s. The dogs yapped. The noise got all mixed up.
    Pete shut his eyes. Pete rolled his neck. Pete worked his headache—
fuck
.
    He smelled smoke. He opened his eyes. Smoke blew out a wall vent. Ash sifted through.
    Arden
.
    Ward got Jack alone. Pete knew why. Do what we want/do what
I
want/don’t talk about HER. He torched Jack’s files. He torched HER name. He torched Arden WHO?
    Jack screamed. The dogs yapped. Smoke blew out the vent. Smoke seeped and pooled.
    The door popped open. Smoke whooshed out. Wet ashes flew. Sink sounds. Screams. Loose shot pellets hurled.
    Ward walked