Whisked Away: a Joe and Hobby Poker Fiction - Finale
Whisked Away: a Joe and Hobby Poker Fiction - Finale
Joe had been kidnapped from outside a Palm Springs casino. While Hobby, the Palm Springs police, and the FBI were looking for him, he was held captive in a sleazy motel. Joe managed to cut open the duct tape that bound him, but just as he freed himself, one of his captors entered from the adjoining room. He took the chair he had been bound to and as the mug stepped into the room, Joe smashed it over his head.
“What that f… was that?” the man in the other room hollered.
Joe saw the pistol in the shoulder holster of the thug he had cold-cocked and grabbed it. He released the safety and jacked a round into the chamber of the familiar .45 caliber weapon when the partner came through the doorway with a gun in his hand. “Hold it!”
Joe shouted, but the man’s weapon swung in Joe’s direction. It was kill or be killed. Joe shot first. The concussion of the powerful slug knocked the man onto his back. Joe was ready to fire again, but there was no need. The mobster was in chump heaven.
Joe stepped outside to summon help. The shot had attracted onlookers. “Call the cops,” he said. As he sagged against the side of the building he tossed the .45 a few feet away.
Within minutes a police car pulled into the lot. They spotted him waving his arms and came to a screeching stop about 20 feet away.
Both doors opened as officers with drawn pistols crouched behind for protection.
Joe noted the shields on the doors indicated they were Indio Police. “I’m not armed, theweapon is over there,” he said as he pointed. As the officers approached Joe said, “There’s one dead and one wounded inside. I’d been kidnapped. The Palm Springs Police should know about it.”
“Are you Joe Crest?” The young officer asked. “Yes, I am.”
“We got a bulletin about you.”
“Good. You better check inside and get the cuffs on the guy I knocked out.”
The cops entered the room with weapons drawn.
A minute later one came out saying, “There’s a body, but the other guy must have gone out the bathroom window. It was busted out.”
Soon a dozen or more cop cars filled the area.
Hobby had been at the Palm Springs police station and came with the three FBI agents who quickly asserted their authority. Hobby came running saying, “I was scared, Joe, but I knew you’d find a way out. What the hell happened?”
I was about to answer when an FBI agent who had just come out of the room said, “Did you shoot the guy?”
“Yes,” I answered. “OK. You’ll have to come with us for a statement; after that the Indio Police will want you. They’ll process the homicide.”
“It was self-defense,” I hastily remarked. “Yes, it looks like that, but there are still a lot of questions.”
“Can I go with him?” Hobby asked.
“No, I’m sorry. You can’t.”
Hobby arrived with a lawyer at the FBI office two hours later.
“This really isn’t necessary,” the FBI agent said, “but come in, we’re almost finished. We’re just waiting for the Indio police to pick him up.”
“I’ll accompany him there,” the lawyer said. “Joe, this is Bill Henry, he’ll represent you if there’s any problem. I can’t come along, but I’ll be waiting at home.”
It was late in the afternoon when Joe came back to Hobby’s villa. Joe said, “First I want a double margarita, then I’ll tell you all about it.”
“I’ll make a pitcher,” Hobby said with a beaming smile. “Oh, I almost forgot.We have a visitor. I hired a private investigator. Go into the den and introduce yourself to Harry.”
After several margaritas the adventure had been told and retold. Hobby said, “I still don’t get it. That’s why I hired Harry. The police and the FBI were not about to let us in on their investigation.
I can’t help but think that Sonny had something to do with your kidnapping, just to get back at me.”
“You’re probably right, Hobby. What’s your take Harry?”
“We don’t have anything else, so I’ll dig up what I can about Sonny M.”
“You’ll do it right away?” Hobby asked.
“For what you’re paying me, you have my immediate and undivided service. I’ll call as soon as I have anything.”
It was early evening when Harry called. Hobby put it on the speaker.
“Here’s what I got. Sonny has organized the hooker trade from Palm Springs to Palm Desert. There are few if any independent pimps left. He’s been very persuasive; one pimp is dead and severalhave been badly beaten. He operates from a dry cleaning business in Cathedral City. I’m watching the place. He’s there now.”
“We’re on our way. How do we find you?”
“It’s on Pearl Street. You’ll see my beat up old brown Cadillac.”
“So what’s the plan? We just gonna walk in and talk tough?” I asked.
“That’s good for a starter,” Hobby replied. “There’s Harry car. Stop here.”
Harry met us on the sidewalk.
“I’ve been inside. The door to the office is in the right corner. There’s also a door to it from the back. Sonny went in about an hour ago. I haven’t seen anyone else. What are you going to do?”
“We’ll have a chat with Sonny,” Hobby answered.
“You just wait here. If we don’t come out in ten minutes, call the cops.”
“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Harry said.
“We don’t,” I replied, “but that never stoppedus before.”
“You can’t go back there,” one of the dry cleaning workers said, but we acted like we owned the place. The door was unlocked.
Sonny, sitting behind a desk, was shocked, “What the f…”
I moved close to him as he reached into a desk drawer. I slammed it on his arm. Hobby stood in front of a big palooka with a bandage on his head. “That’s the guy I crowned, Hobby.”
Sonny screamed, “Shoot the bastards.”
“I can’t,” the big lug said, “I lost my gun.”
“Well break his f…ing head.”
In case you didn’t know, Hobby is a martial arts expert. The guy didn’t stand a chance.
Sonny was in tears saying, “I think you broke my wrist again.”
“Sonny, it’s too bad you didn’t learn your lesson the first time.”
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