Free Dues of Mortality by Jason Austin

he released himself
practically on top of her. What choice did he have but to seize the
moment? To do otherwise would have been a sin. A smirk snaked up his
lips. “Ay, I was just trying to go easy on her at first. Shit,
it’s hard enough just putting a mark on something that looks that good, let alone what I was there to do. I mean, you wouldn’t use the Mona
Lisa to wipe your ass, would you?”
    “ First
of all, don't ever give me information I didn't ask for,” Shaw
said with obvious reproach. “Secondly, no matter your reasons,
you've managed to place certain
people in
a very precarious position. I only know enough about this case to
make some appeals to the judge, but I know more about the kind of
people you work for. My guess is they’re not very happy with
you right now. That’s why I’m here. Your reckless indulgence
has made people think twice about helping you.”
    Block’s
neck swelled like a bullfrog’s. “Well, you tell those certain people that
they’re gonna be in a much more precarious
position if they think they’re gonna just leave me
here!” He took a moment and then said, “You think I don’t
know who he is?”
    Shaw
immediately felt the sting of his ulcer. Block was about to say
something he didn’t want to hear; something...over the line.
“Mr. Block, I don’t recommend that you...”
    “ Don't
think I'm just another dumb head-breaker that your boss hired off the
street. That you need to understand more than
anything before you leave this room.”
    “ He’s
not my boss and it was my understanding that you never met him.”
    Block
lilted back in his chair and gazed up at the pegboard ceiling. His
thick forefingers became drumsticks tapping out a non-rhythmic beat
on the table’s edge.
    “ Now
let me see,” he said facetiously. “What was that name
again, Keller, Klemer?” His ugly eyes popped wide in Shaw’s
direction. “Kelmer! That was it, Kelmer!”
    Perplexity
was spelled out in cursive on Shaw’s troubled forehead. “ What?”
    “ That’s
what the guy said his name was. He even called back while I was
there. Said he worked for Millenitech.”
    Shaw
recoiled. Wallace .
Gabriel’s biggest and these days, only client worth mentioning. Who
the hell else? he
thought. In Cleveland, Jerome Wallace was God...and, by
comparison, men like Shaw were but lowly pagans. Do
I really need Gabriel so badly as to risk involvement in Wallace's
extracurricular activities ? Shaw asked himself. The short
answer was “yes”. The way things were looking, Shaw's
gravy train was about to be derailed and Gabriel's A-list clientele
was the closest and quickest way to keep the mortgage paid, the
strippers grinding and the pain-killers in the cabinet. Shaw pressed
his fingers into his eye. I
hate Gabriel. I hate Gabriel. I...hate...Gabriel.
    “ I
don’t see where this is going,” Shaw said. Perhaps he
could play it down and make Block think he had nothing to bargain.
    “ Well,
why don’t you take it to your boss? Maybe he can tell you. Or
maybe I should just ask the state prosecutor.”
    Shaw's
finger migrated from his eye to his temple. State prosecutor Camille
Cosgrove was no fan of Jerome Wallace or Millenitech. She was still
salty over the years of court tie-ups that were preventing her from
righteously prosecuting Wallace on the illegal dumping of medical and
radioactive waste that supposedly came from his mothballed research
labs . Though, Block probably didn't know that; he was just
another dumb lump of flotsam that got off on jumping into half-empty
pools. He had gotten the Glenda Jameson job through the usual
nameless, faceless contacts, probably just another loser—like
Shaw—who owed Gabriel a favor.
    Block
smiled and said, “You see, while I was...'visiting' the young
lady's apartment, she checked her phone calls. She has one of those,
in-home land lines with the widescreen. Now, I didn’t see no
picture, but I heard this guy on the other end with a little
bitch-ass