The Reapers

“The hell are you talking about?”

“I know what you did to Errol Rich.”

Little Tom gri

“He got what was coming to him,” said Little Tom. “You’re about to get what’s coming to you, too.”

He moved swiftly, swinging the bat as he came, striking up instead of down, aiming for the boy’s ribs, but the boy stepped nimbly forward, into the stroke instead of away from it, so that the bat struck the wood of the door frame at the same time as fingers gripped Little Tom’s throat and spun him against the wall. The impact of the bat on the wood sent a painful vibration up Little Tom’s arm, so that it was still weak when the edge of the boy’s left hand hit it, causing the bat to fall to the floor.

Little Tom was too surprised to react. No colored had ever touched him before, not even a black woman, for Little Tom did not consort with other races, either forcibly or with their consent. He smelled the boy’s breath as he leaned closer. The fingers tightened on his throat, and then he heard the back door of the bar open and a man shouted something. The grip upon him eased a little, and then he was flung to one side, tripping over a stool and landing heavily.

“Hey,” said the voice, and Little Tom recognized Willard Hoag’s gravelly tones. “The fuck do you think you’re doing, boy?”

The boy picked up the bat and turned to face the new threat. Hoag, unarmed, stopped. The boy looked at Little Tom.

“Another time,” he said.

He backed out of the bar, taking the bat with him. Seconds after he left, the bat came crashing through Little Tom’s window, showering the floor with glass. Little Tom heard a truck pull away, but when he got to the road it was no longer in sight, and he never did find out who had driven the colored to his place. It troubled him for a long time, even after he discovered the boy’s identity and found a way to pass it on to those who had their own reasons for dealing with him. As he grew older, the memory of the offense grew dim. Lots of memories faded, for by the time that he died, Little Tom was succumbing to dementia, even if he managed to hide its effects from those who frequented his increasingly ailing little bar, as the business went into decline along with its owner. Thus it was that when the boy eventually returned as a man, and made Little Tom pay the price for what he had done to Errol Rich, Little Tom was unable to co

And as for why Louis took so long to avenge Errol Rich’s death, well, as he liked to tell Angel, Little Tom was worth killing, but he wasn’t worth traveling very far to kill, so Louis just waited until he happened to be in the neighborhood. It was, he said, a matter of convenience.

That came later, though. For now, he headed west, and he did not stop until he could see and smell the ocean. He found a place in which to live and work, and there he waited for the men to come.

CHAPTER TEN

LOUIS WAS EARLY FOR the meeting with Gabriel at Nate’s. He didn’t like being early for encounters of this kind. He preferred to keep people waiting for him, aware always of the potential psychological advantages to be gained in even the most apparently i

The old man had been part of Louis’s life for longer than almost anyone else he had known, the few surviving female members of his own family apart, and he kept even them at a distance, salving his conscience by ensuring that they never wanted for money, even as he acknowledged to himself that they had little need of what he sent them and that his gifts were more for his own peace of mind than theirs. But Gabriel had been there from the crucial later years of his adolescence, then all through his adulthood until Louis had severed their ties. Now they were together again, one in his middle age, the other in his declining years. They had seen each other grow older, and it was strange to think that, when they had first met, Gabriel had been younger than Louis himself was now.

Louis glanced at his watch. He was particularly unhappy about being early on this occasion, for he was in no mood to wait. He felt the tension building within himself, but he did not try to dissipate it. He recognized it as anticipation. Louis knew that there was conflict and violence on its way, and his body and mind were preparing for it. The tension was part of that, and it was good. The months of normality, of indolence, of ordinary life, had come to an end. Even when he and Angel had traveled to Maine earlier that year to help Parker deal with the revenger, Merrick, there had been little call for his specialized services, and he had returned to New York frustrated and disappointed. They had been glorified bodyguards, nothing more. Now he and Angel were under threat, and he was preparing to respond. What troubled him was that he did not yet have a clear picture of what form that threat had taken. That was why he was here, waiting in the old bar not far from Willie Brew’s auto shop. Gabriel had promised him clarification and confirmation of the information offered by Hoyle, and Gabriel, whatever his faults, was not one to renege on his promises.

The delivery door at the back of the bar opened with a soft creak, and Gabriel entered. The door had been kept unlocked for him at Louis’s request, Nate leaving them to their own devices in the otherwise empty bar. Nate knew better than to bother them. The bar was another of Louis’s silent investments, a place in which to meet and in which to store some essentials should he ever need to go to ground: cash, a small quantity of diamonds and Krugerrands, a gun and ammunition. They were kept in a locked box in a safe behind shelves in Nate’s office, and only Louis held the combination. He had nests like this in five different locations throughout New York and New England, two of which, this one included, were unknown even to Angel.

Gabriel took a seat and signaled to Nate for a coffee. Nothing was said until the cup arrived and they were alone again. Gabriel sipped at his coffee, his little finger held carefully away from the handle. The old man, thought Louis, had always observed the niceties of civilized behavior, even when he was arranging for men and women to be wiped from the face of the earth.