Free A Bullet Apiece by John Joseph Ryan

smiled at me. I remember that. And he muttered something about a fight he threw.” Kira paused and looked at me fully. Maybe it was the light, but she seemed to have grown three inches before my eyes. And her English had sharpened, as though a warped record had been straightened. It had a practiced lilt, the consonants crisp and jagged, and the vowels clothed in ice. Even in the stark overhead light, with Jimmy scowling in his ridiculous yellow robe, I couldn’t help but stare at her face and bask in this new voice. I could feel Jimmy looking at me over the bourbon. But for once, he was quiet. This was Kira’s show, and she had us both by the balls.
    â€œI helped him to the door. I’ve done that a few times.” Kira stopped and shot a look at Jimmy. “And no, he’s never made any advances on me, Jimmy. He said good night, and when he opened the door, he looked as though he were making up his mind which direction to go. I decided I should call him a cab; so, I came back in to use the bar phone. I went back out a minute later, but didn’t see him. Then I heard him in the alley. He was muttering, half singing. I walked towards the alley, but I heard urine hitting the wall. I decided he wasn’t going anywhere, at least for the moment. So, I yelled over to him, ‘I call you cab, Beef!’ I thought he said ‘All right’, but it was slurred. I went back inside and closed the door. I kept cleaning. Jimmy had gone upstairs about ten minutes earlier. Pretty soon a cab pulled up out front. I heard a car door slam, then nothing for a moment, then a pounding on our door.” As Kira continued, the story picked up speed and the sequence of events tumbled out. “I opened it and saw a cabbie there, looking terrified. ‘Miss’, he said, ‘are you alone?’ I told him no and got suspicious. ‘Jesus God’, he said. Just like that. I’ve never heard that expression before.”
    â€œGo on with it, Kira.” Jimmy sounded tired and resigned.
    Kira continued. “He wouldn’t say anything. He just kept glancing towards the alley. Oh, and he was shaking the whole time. I wasn’t about to let him inside.” She glanced at Jimmy. “I told him to wait outside. ‘Beef around the corner,’ I said, and I locked the door to go get Jimmy.”
    For the first time since I’d shown up, Jimmy seemed to be aware of how he was dressed. He pulled the yellow robe together across his massive chest, and I fished out another cigarette to spare him the embarrassment.
    Â  “When Jimmy and I came outside, the cabbie was at the door of his taxi, looking like he was scared out of his wits. Jimmy confronted him in his inimitable style, shall we say.”
    â€˜Inimitable’—I liked that. I wondered if Jimmy thought he might be getting insulted.
    â€œThe cabbie pointed at the alley, but refused to move from his car. Jimmy went into the alley and I followed. That’s where we found George Reynolds. On his stomach, a pool of blood circling his head and shoulders.”
    â€œAnd you knew he was dead?” I asked.
    Jimmy spoke up. “I’ve seen death, Darvis. I didn’t need a coroner.”
    â€œDid you feel for a pulse?”
    â€œKira did. Gotta hand it to her. I didn’t want to walk through his blood.”
    â€œNor did I,” Kira began, “and I didn’t. No pulse. He was quite dead and warm together. It was a disturbing moment for me.” Funny, her face didn’t register ‘disturbing’. I wondered what she’d seen in her lifetime to be so matter-of-fact about finding a dead man, and for that matter, one she knew.
    â€œThen what?”
    â€œWe came back around the building, and Jimmy walked over and asked the cabbie what he saw. I was going to go inside and call the police, but the cabbie stopped me. He leaned in to Jimmy’s ear and hissed a few things I couldn’t hear.