George’s Notebook: Fight For Your Life Episode Three

After a few seconds of stunned silence I begin peppering Bill with questions, “Did you have a fight? Is she in any trouble?” That kinda stuff. Bill’s sure she was kidnapped and he’s the reason. I light a cigarette and lean back into my chair as Bill begins to tell me a story.

Bill grew up in Queens and he grew up hard, often using his fists. His Pop wasn’t around and his mom was working two jobs just to make ends meet. As he got older he started making a name for himself in the ring and then like a lot of the rest of us, he was drafted. He got shot and was sent home but he wasn’t able to box anymore. He started bouncing at the Glow but that wasn’t enough so he picked up a side gig working as a janitor at Sullivan Construction.

Now in my line of work there’s no such thing as coincidence, so the fact that the Name Sullivan Construction came up again in less than 24 hours sets off little alarm bells in my head but for now I let it go. With the owner of Sullivan Construction now the new mayor this could have a way of getting sticky.

Anyway, he tells me that Jim Jackson, one of the supervisors at Sullivan’s, approaches him and says that there’s an underground fighting ring and does Bill want to box? That gets Bill going. He never really got over the fact that he couldn’t box so he jumped at the chance. It’s all on the downlow and the winner gets 200 bucks a pop.

Bill starts winning and there’s a lot of money changing hands. They got three different places where they hold the fights. Mixing plants, all owned by Sullivan. Friday nights at 10p and you’ve gotta have the password. Bunch of random joes that show up to fight but you’ve gotta know somebody to get in right, otherwise how’d ya get the password?

Now I don’t know if Jackson knew who Bill was or if he just saw his size and thought he might be able to make a little bit of money. Doesn’t really matter I suppose, not now. So this goes on for about two months and then a week or so ago Bill’s in a fight and they tell him that he killed the guy. Not only that but it’s the mayor’s son. It’s gotta be bullshit right? I mean that’s what I’m thinking.

Since he’s “killed” a guy and an important guy at that, Jackson tells Bill that he’s going to keep fighting. Essentially they’re telling Bill they own him now and to make sure that he keeps fighting they say they’re going to keep his girlfriend, Mary Willis, as collateral. Collateral, like she’s an object, fucking guys. Makes me think that this Sullivan guy might have a connection to the mob. God forbid, that I do not need.

Two days ago, Mary goes missing. Bill starts getting worried and that’s how we wind up here. Bill gives me Mary’s address and tells me she’s gotta roommate. He’s scared, I can hear it in his voice but not for himself. I tell him that everything is going to be alright and that we’re going to get her back. I feel a little pang of guilt when I say it, there and then gone. It’s what I tell all my clients, even when I know it’s probably not true. Sometimes all there is is heartache and ruin but I mean it when I tell Bill that. Bill’s good people and I’m going to do my damndest to get her back safe.

I hang up the phone and look over to see Jane watching me from the bed. She looks good layin’ there wrapped in my sheets. I bring her a cup of coffee and sit down on the corner of the bed. She takes a sip and asks about my work, nodding in the direction of the phone. I tell her it never ends and ask if she wants breakfast. Much to my chagrin she says she’s got a busy day ahead of her and hands me her coffee cup before getting dressed.

I offer to walk her home but she tells me she’s from Wisconsin so she’s used to the snow. As she opens the door she turns back to look at me and asks me if I ever think I’ll get over Evelyn. It catches me off guard, Evie is the last thing on my mind right now. I laugh and then stammer out a few ready excuses, “It’s complicated. There’s nothing there.” That kinda stuff. Then she looks at me, really looks at me and says, “There’s more than one girl that works at that place you know.”

All I can do is nod and smile. She smiles, steps out into the hall and gently closes the door. I’m left standing there in my pajama bottoms holding two cold cups of coffee. I make my way to the sink and deposit Jane’s cup before refilling my own. Another cigarette and then I call the operator to get Mary’s number. It occurs to me later that I could have just gotten it from Bill. It’s been a weird morning.

Mary’s roommate answers just as I’m about to hangup. She sounds “small”, drawn in on herself. I ask for Mary and she says that Mary hasn’t been home for a few days. I try to wheedle some information outta her without being too intrusive but there’s nothing there.
I try Matt as well and there’s no answer there. Probably at Evie’s place so I let that slide. It’s too early in the morning for a call like that. I let it go and then head into the shower. It’s going to be a busy day so I better get to it.

While I’m getting myself all gussied up, my unconscious starts turning things over looking for connections. As far as Sullivan goes there wasn’t any dirt that came out during the election. So either he’s clean or he’s got a really big closet for those skeletons. He’s unmarried but he’s got an adult kid. Not sure if he’s divorced or a widower. Kind of surprising that it didn’t come out in the papers. Stuff like that usually makes its way to the front page. Must have a really good PR group.

The thing that catches though is the fact that his kid runs a charity for war vets. Probably with daddy’s money but whatever. You can’t throw a rock without hitting somebody who served and not all of them are doing ok, so I appreciate it. Now both Matt and Bill are vets and both have a connection to the Sullivans. It could be nothing but in my line of work coincidences are just connections you’ve overlooked.

I call the VA to get some info on Open Arms for Vets. It all sounds legit and the receptionist gives me the number and address. I call to see if they’re going to be open. A man answers and says they’ll be open and yes I can come in but there’s limited hours today. He tells me to be careful and sounds pleasant enough. I head out and take the subway over.