TURNING TABLES

 

John O’Boyle sat on the counter next to his desk awaiting the Hot Pocket he had popped into the microwave. It was 4:46, fourteen minutes before his office would close. The microwave beeped. He opened the door and took out the pizza pocket. He took a bite and spit it out. It was too hot. He walked through the candy wrappers and chip bags that were on his floor. He ate a lot. At thirty-five years old, his metabolism hadn’t slowed down yet. He was tall and lanky, and had black hair that was thinning out.

The doorbell in his office rang. A client. He sprang into action. He picked up all of the garbage and threw it into the trash while he finished his piping hot pizza pocket. The bell rang again. He muttered profanities as he chewed the last bite of his pizza pocket and dropped some on his tie. The bell rang twice this time. He ran to the door, opened it, and nobody was there. He stuck his head out into the hallway and saw nobody. He ran out of his door and turned the corner. He stopped. He saw the most beautiful woman in the world. She wore a red dress that showed her long smooth legs. Her blonde hair reached the middle of her back. She was waiting for the elevator.

 

“Hey,” he yelled.

The woman turned to look at him. She was stunning. She had big blue doll eyes, beautiful juicy lips and a beauty mark on top of the left corner of them. “Yes?” she responded.

“where you looking for a Private I. just now?”

“Yea, I was but he wasn’t there.”

“Sorry about that, I was kind of busy and couldn’t hear the doorbell well. Please, follow me to my office.”

The woman told him her story and why she needed his services. “So, do you see why I came to you?” she asked.

“Let me get this straight. You were in an accident five years ago which made you lose your memory, then you married the man who saved you, who was a district attorney that got murdered two years ago. And now you have someone calling your house saying that they were married to you, and you think that person is stalking you?”

“Yes.”

“And you want me to find out who you really were and who this stalker is?”

“Correct, I will pay you whatever you ask,” she answered. “Here’s my address.”

“Well. I’ll see what I can do, then we’ll discuss the fee. Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

“O.K. then, Mrs. Albenoli, you’ll be hearing from me soon.”

“Thank you.”

She bent over his desk to shake his hand and he looked at her cleavage. He walked her to the door. Damn, she has the best rack and ass I’ve ever seen. He looked out his window. It overlooked the avenue and was right above the main entrance. He saw her get into her car that was parked across the street and pull off. O’Boyle saw a car pull off and follow her. He ran to his car and went to the address she left on a piece of paper. Once he got to her house he saw that her car was in the driveway and a black Lincon Town Car parked across the street with two men watching her house. He parked his car around the corner. He approached the car with the men in it and tapped on the window. The passenger rolled the window down and stared O’Boyle down.

“May I help you two gentlemen?” O’Boyle asked, exposing the gun in his holster.

“Naw,” said the passenger. He had a military cut, was tall and bulky, and had a sour look on his face.

“What are you guys doing?” O’Boyle asked.

“Car broke down,” said the older man in the driver seat.

“May I call a tow truck for you?”

“No, thanks. It’s just a little hot. Once it cools off it’ll start,” the older man turns the key, and his car started, “See? Thanks anyway.” They pulled off.

O’Boyle looks around. He makes sure that Mrs. Albenoli’s house wasn’t broken into. Then he leaves and goes home. On the drive there, he tries to figure out why those men followed Mrs. Albenoli. He got home and took a shot of Whiskey. He wondered why she didn’t notice the men. He wondered and wondered, then he dozed off.

The next day he wakes up to the phone ringing. “Hello?” O’Boyle answers.

“John I need you to come to my house.”

“Is everything alright?” He asks

“I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

“I’ll be there right away.” He felt bad for this woman. She lost her memory, lost her husband, and is being stalked. She sure is gorgeous, though. On the way to her house he was fantasizing about her answering the door wearing only lingerie and him having sex with her. His daydream was interrupted by a familiar car in his rear view. It was the black Town Car. He saw the passenger pointing a gun at him. A cop car makes a right and starts to drive right next to O’Boyle. They see it too and they make a right into a random street. Saved by the police. He was thankful. He couldn’t help it, he laughed. He thought he was sweating so he wiped his head. It was dry, and he started laughing harder.

He got to her house and saw her in the window. He parked the car and ran to her house. She opened the door and let him in. She was a mess, but she was still gorgeous. She looked at O’Boyle and tears flowed into her eyes. “He came last night.”

“Who did?”

“My husband, James Horowitz.”

“The drug dealer?” O’Boyle asks.

“You know him?”

“Duh. Who doesn’t? He has the biggest house in this town, in the hills, right?

“Yes. He was the prime suspect in my husband Anthony’s death.”

“What happened?”

“Anthony was the D.A. in charge of prosecuting Horowitz, so he had him killed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“He reminded me of how much we were in love. And he told me that he killed my Anthony.” She started crying harder. She got closer to O’Boyle and held him. It was an intimate hug. They separated momentarily and looked in each others eyes. He was happy because he knew they were about to fuck. O’Boyle tried to stop her but it was hard. She took him over to the bedroom and pushed him on the bed. She was wearing a silk robe that left nothing up to the imagination. She walked over to him and got on top of him. She untied the robe and dropped it. Her naked body called out for him. He tried to resist, he could imagine what Horowitz would do to him if he found out. He couldn’t help it. She was too good.

After they had sex, she started to put on her clothes. She looked like an angel. He stayed naked under the covers and started to smoke a cigarette. They both heard a loud bang. It sounded like someone broke down the front door. Two men stormed into room, it was the same two men that were in the Town Car. They stood by the door. The sight of O’Boyle naked made them angry. The younger man took Elvia Albenoli from the room and carried her outside. The old man stayed there with his gun drawn and pointed at O’Boyle.

“It’s over for you.” said the old man. O’Boyle jumped behind the bed. The older man shot at O’Boyle. The man approached the bed. He didn’t know if he hit O’Boyle or not. O’Boyle jumped at the older man from behind the bed and fell on top of him. He tried to take the gun from him and a shot fired. He started to overpower the man and pointed the gun at his head. O’Boyle had obviously won the struggle. He shot the older man through the temple. Blood splattered everywhere. O’Boyle got up, got his guns and ran outside. As soon as the other man saw O’Boyle he started to shoot. O’Boyle dropped to the floor. He feels bullets flying over his head. When they stop, O’Boyle looks up. He sees the car speed down the street, but something is odd. Elvia Albenoli is riding in the back seat. She doesn’t try to struggle, she doesn’t try to flee, she just sits there. Cool and normal.

 

He arrives at Horowitz’s house. There’s a camera at the main gate so he looks around a little bit. He finds a tree next to the concrete wall that surrounds the house. He hops on the tree and jumps over. On the lawn, he could see that the house is enormous. It takes up the whole street block. He runs through the lawn, making sure he didn’t get spotted. He runs to the back looking for a door, but he spots an open window instead. He looks inside. Nobody. He jumps in.

The room is empty. He hears someone coming so he opens a door behind him. He looks around and sees stacks of money that are taller than him. He fills his pockets a little bit and walks into another door. He is in a hallway with a lot of expensive things in it. There are also some stairs that go up to the second floor. He makes sure nobody is around, then he goes up. When he’s at the top he makes a right and goes to the end of the hallway . He goes into a room which looks like the main bedroom. He sees a silhouette of a woman on a bed. He turns the light on and sees Elvia. He walks up to her and wakes her. She is happy to see him and kisses him.

“John! I‘m so glad you’re here.” Elvia hugs him tightly.

“Me, too. Are you alright?” O’Boyle asks.

“Yes”

“Lets go.” O’Boyle turns to open the door. But is distracted. By a click behind him. He turns back to Elvia and sees a small gun in her hand.

“You have become too troublesome.” she tells him.

“You never had amnesia, did you?”

“I didn’t think you were smart enough to figure that out.”

“You had Mr. Albenoli killed because he was the D.A. in charge of Horowitz’s case.”

“Wow. I didn’t I didn’t think you had it in you. Since I walked in, it seemed your other head was in charge. Just look at how you were drooling over me.”

He blushed even though he was about to be killed. “Why was I needed? Nobody would have guessed you had anything to do with it.”

“Easy. I called you because I was being stalked. You found out it was Horowitz and he kidnapped me. You came here, saved me, killed Horowitz but got killed in the process. You see I want all of the money. And I am officially Mrs. Horowitz, so who gets all of his money? The woman with amnesia that happens to be on Mr. Horowitz’s will. Me.”

“Isn’t his money illegal?”

“Not this money. You see, James had a lot of businesses that he owned and were used as drug fronts. He sold all of them today and bought a ticket to Amsterdam. So all of the money is legal.”

“What about Horowitz?”

“He’s behind the bed. Gun shot in the head. With this gun, and it will soon have your fingerprints. And you will get shot too. Now walk outside.”

O’Boyle opened the door but closed it quick behind him.

“It’s O.K. I don’t have to kill you, the men downstairs will do it for me.” Elvia yelled through the door. And there are two more gunshots behind the closed door.

O’Boyle pulls out his .38 and starts to walk down the hallway. He sees someone reach the top of the stairs and start shooting at him. The man hides behind the wall and shoots back. A statue behind O‘Boyle shatters. O‘Boyle shoots again. The man lets out a moan and falls back, goes over the railing and falls to the first floor. He sees more people rushing to the top of the stairs so he rushes in the room Elvia was in. Nobody was in the room. He looked in the window, Elvia was getting into the town car. Someone busts in the room. O’Boyle turns around and shoots. The man shoots back. O’Boyle is hit, he‘s got a bullet in the shoulder. O’Boyle jumps behind the bed. It occurs to him that this is the second time he hides behind a bed today. The men at the door shoot at the bed. O’Boyle ducks his head and sees James Horowitz under the bed laying down face first in a pool of his own blood. He turns to look at the open window. O’Boyle pops up from behind the bed and shoots, as he make his way out of the window. He sees a man start to fall back and another one get shot in his forehead. O’Boyle jumps out of the window, onto the roof, and climbs down to the grass. His arm is numb. He runs to the wall and hears gun shots behind him. He runs towards a trash can next to the concrete wall. He gets on top of it and jumps over. He runs to his car and goes to Elvia’s house.

When he gets there, he parks a block away. He sees sirens and cops all over.

Elvia is in the street crying. O’Boyle sees the Town Car parked as he walks to her house.

“They killed him,” Elvia said as she cried. “he helped me escape but they got him.”

“Are you sure he killed Horowitz?” asked a black cop.

“Yes. I saw O’Boyle do it then I saw him get killed.” Elvia told them. She was quite the actress.

O’Boyle walked up and her jaw dropped.

“I can take you to the body,” O’Boyle interrupted.

“Don’t you mean the bodies?” asked another cop.

“Yes. Horowitz and his men.” said O’Boyle.

“What about the private investigator.” Asked another cop.

“I’m right here,” O’Boyle said as he looked into Elvia’s eyes. “she was the one who killed Horowitz. You could find the murder weapon with her prints on it in a black Lincon Town Car parked a block away.”

“We’ll have to take both of you into custody until one of your stories checks out.” said the black cop.

“I have half of the money she paid me for working the case. She said she will give me the other half when the mystery is solved. I think its solved.” he pulled out the money he stole from the house. A huge stack of hundreds.

They believed him, and she went to jail after they made her pay O’Boyle the “other half” of his money.