Chapter 9: Blue Devil
Twenty year ago.
Meeks sits before Falcone as Falcone puffs on a Cuban cigar. Smoke fills the room in thick wisps and twists about the lights.
“You did a good job with that last one,” Falcone says.
Meeks beams with pride.
“First one’s always the hardest,” Falcone says.
Meeks pretends to shrug it off but doesn’t quite achieve it. Falcone slides an envelope on top of a book across the table to Meeks. Meeks grabs it.
“Got another one for you. This one’s a real killer. He won’t lie down like Portnoy did. Up for it?”
Meeks nods. He pockets the envelope and the book.
“Of course you are. This one’s got a reputation. Killed I don’t know how many men. Thirty, forty, I don’t know. He’s got no conscience, kill anybody. Killed his own mother I heard.”
This gets Meeks’ attention. He thumbs his gun as he listens.
“Works for those other assholes that keep getting in the way. I want him to get that book. You kill him, guess what?”
“What?”
“You get the reputation.”
Meeks likes the sound of that and he grins easily. He rises to leave.
“Watch out now,” Falcone says. “Like I said, he won’t lie down and die like old Portnoy.”
Falcone finishes that with a hardy laugh that rises up from his belly and he considers Meeks. Meeks just stands there with a cocky expression.
“All right,” Falcone says. “Let’s see how bad you are. He’s got a stupid nickname. Blue Devil. Some tattoo he’s got, I think. I sent two guys after him. Neither one came back.”
##
Meeks waits in the bustling city south side. The night is cool and the dark sky is overcast and starless. A royal blue Thunderbird slows to the side of the street. A tall man with slick black hair and a shiny leather jacket emerges surveys his surroundings like it is his habit. Satisfied, he crosses the street.
Meeks follows him. The tall man in the leather jacket weaves his way through a small crowd, past the city shops displaying all their wares. This is the Blue Devil. He pauses at a particular shop window and eyeballs a pair of studded leather cowboy boots. The horns of a blue devil tattoo grace his neck and the tattoo slips down beneath his shirt.
The Blue Devil seems to sense something and he looks in Meeks’ direction. Their eyes meet and they linger there a while until the Blue Devil smiles eerily. He’s a sly one. He continues walking until he cuts into an alleyway.
He breaks into a run and he draws his gun, stealing glances over his shoulder, looking for Meeks. He forges a circuitous path through several alleys of the labyrinthine city. When he feels he is no longer being followed he routes his way back to his Thunderbird and hops inside and locks the doors before he pulls out into the street.
He takes up his cell phone and dials a number.
“It’s me. They sent someone again … Hell if I know … just keep your eyes open.”
He disconnects and notices something on his dashboard. A book. “Dark Night of the Soul.”
The Blue Devils stiffens and goes for his gun but it is already too late. Meeks rises from the backseat with his own gun drawn.
“Keep driving.”
“How the shit did you get in here?”
“Turn left.”
The Blue Devil grits his teeth. “You bastard, I ain’t goin’ down like this. To hell with you.”
He rams on the accelerator and the Thunderbird lurches forward. He yanks the wheel and slams it directly into the side of a brick building and the vehicle crumples under the impact. When the dust settles the Blue Devil falls through the driver side door and he’s bloodied but he’s alive.
Meeks limps out from the back and shakes it off. The Blue Devil rushes Meeks and gets his arm around Meeks’ neck. Meeks goes for his gun but it isn’t there.
“Mother fucker!” The Blue Devil cries. “Ain’t shit without your fuckin’ piece!”
Meeks struggles as they grapple. The eyes bug out in Meeks' face. The Blue Devil is enjoying the hell out of this.
“Kill you mother fucker!”
And for Meeks the whispers begin
“This man does not deserve to live…” they say.
This galvanizes Meeks. He gets a grip on Blue Devil's arm and bites it, teeth sinking into the hard flesh until rivulets of blood ooze out. Blue Devil holds on, but Meeks smashes his boot into the top of the man’s foot, spins, clocks Blue Devil in the throat. The Blue Devil falls back and hits the ground. Meeks finds his gun in the backseat of the car while the Blue Devil thrashes with coughs, trying to catch his breath.
“Kill the man…” the whispers say.
Meeks shakes his head as if shaking off the whispers. He goes to his fallen enemy.
“You really kill your mother?”
Blue Devil eyes him like the question was a stupid joke.
“Did I kill my mother? The fuck?”
“It's true, right?” Meeks asks.
“Man, quit testing me. She was just like the rest of them. Stupid bitch.”
Meeks almost grins. He pulls the trigger. The Blue Devil goes limp, dead. Meeks regards the body once with disgust and he tosses the book onto the dead man’s chest and he’s gone.
##