Fishbones
an excerpt

The car came to an abrupt stop in the first space available. They were a block away from their destination, a downtown office building. Victor hastily dropped a quarter in the meter as they walked up, making their way to the entrance. Nick was leaning against the wall, looking annoyed.

“This better be good, Ash.”

“I’ll make it up to you, you lazy prick.”

As Victor walked past, Nicky made a quick gesture and muttered under his voice.

“Spostata.”

Demos exchanged a smirk with Nicky as they went inside. Victor looked briefly to each side, looking for security cameras. This would be easy, there weren’t any. Satisfied, he stopped at the receptionist’s desk, reading from the business card once more.

“Which floor is Mister, ahh, Gonyer located on?”

The woman at the desk looked up at the group uncertainly. The clean-cut, older man in the suit wasn’t anything unusual. The annoyed, overweight, and unshaven gentleman, however, made her nervous. The two teen boys seemed normal, though one had a strange white scar over his eye.

“The 10th, I believe. Did you have an appointment, Sir?”

“I’m an old friend,” Victor said easily, lowering his eyes.

“I’ll need some ID, Sir.”

“No problem,” Victor said, handing over a New York state driver’s license. Tucked beneath it was a fold of bills. The woman looked over the ID, feeling over the bills with her fingertips before making eye contact once again. She passed the license back. The bills went into her pocket.

“Go ahead.”

“We weren’t ever here.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Ferris, wait here,” Victor said, pointing at one of the lobby’s sofas as the three walked over to the elevators. Ferris nodded in response and flopped down onto one of the seats. It was probably best that they weren’t involving him, anyway. For a minute he looked out the window to watch cars go by, then got bored and rummaged for a magazine on the table. He could only imagine what could possibly be happening in Mr. Gonyer’s office.

Ten floors up, that very man’s door was abruptly thrown open, slamming against the inner wall. He quickly looked up from his desk, staring widely at the three men who had just let themselves in. The largest of them was pulling a torque wrench from his jacket sleeve. A cordless phone was tucked between Gonyer’s ear and shoulder, and he was speechless for a moment.

“…I’ll call you back,” he said, very slowly, then set the receiver down.

Lacing his fingers, he gave them a quick smile. His teeth were perfectly aligned under a pair of blue eyes and a dark blonde cut.

“Can I help you with something?”

“I certainly hope so,” Victor said, returning the smile as he sat down in the seat facing the desk. Demos stood at his side, quietly observing.

“You see, Mr. Gonyer, a good friend of mine seems to be having trouble getting his funds from your health plan. I told him it all must have been a misunderstanding.”

“I see,” the man answered, his voice tense. “His name?”

“Charles Martin.”

Gonyer’s eyes went to his computer screen, entering in a few keys and reading what came up.

“Yes, hmm.” He continued reading, scrolling down a few pages with his mouse. “His wife claims to have breast cancer.”

“Terrible thing to happen to such nice people. You can do something about this, can’t you?”

Demos was surprised to see the man pause, then grin.

“I’m afraid not, Sir. The treatments they are proposing for Mrs. Martin are too experimental to qualify for coverage under his plan. I’m sure you understand.”

Victor’s smile dropped, as well as his tone.

“It seems you’re the one who needs to understand, Mr. Gonyer.”

“I understand completely, Mr…? Ah, I don’t believe I got your name.”

“Giorgetti.”

“Yes, Mr. Giorgetti. I’m quite familiar with scare tactics. I’m sorry to break this to you, but you’re not going to bully me, or this company, out of several thousand dollars.”

Without instruction or warning, Nicky punched him in the face. Spit flew from Gonyer’s lips as he tumbled back from his seat, choking in surprise.

“Come on, Nicky. I’m sure we can do this without violence,” Victor said smoothly, not moving from his seat. He didn’t seem sincere.

“I hate when little pricks like him get condescending,” Nicky grumbled as he played with the wrench in his other hand.

A hand slapped up onto the desk as the blonde made an attempt to pull himself back up. Holding the side of his face, he leaned against the desk and glared harshly at the men in his office. Demos looked back at him emotionlessly.

“You Guinea fucks,” Gonyer said, releasing a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth. He’d bitten his tongue on impact. His hand grasped the receiver of his phone, lifting it to call security. Victor leaned forward calmly, tugging the line from the back of the phone and tossing it to the floor.

“Tell me, Mr. Gonyer. Do you use this company’s insurance?”

“Y-yes,” he said, backing up towards the window. Nicky stepped closer.

“Are you covered in the event of, oh… I don’t know. Falling from great heights?”

It took the man a moment, but something clicked in his head. He quickly turned to notice the open window, then looked back to Nicky. He rushed to step away from the glass, but was quickly grabbed by the collar.

“You won’t do it.”

“Is that so?” Victor asked, adjusting his glasses. Demos continued to watch intently, not interrupting.

“I don’t care what kind of deal he has with you. We’re a company, we need to make money. If some old lady loses her tit, then tough shit.”

Nicky looked over his shoulder at Victor. Victor simply nodded.

Back down on the first floor, Ferris was flipping through a Better Homes and Gardens magazine, stifling a yawn. It was either that, or Highlights. People occasionally came and went, and the receptionist had gotten a phone call or two. But for now, the lobby was silent. Ferris turned a page, eyeing an article about curtains in a hopeless attempt to find something interesting. Ah, a recipe for fish.

It was then that a large, blunt object whistled past the window. The body slammed into a small hotdog cart on the sidewalk, shattering the glass display and throwing the vendor onto his back. The umbrella had crumpled from the impact and the pavement was littered with pieces of beef and blood. Cars slammed on their brakes to avoid the debris, skidding over the tarmac clumsily. Ferris looked up from his magazine.

He snapped around to look out the window as the receptionist rushed up next to him. The sight was more than enough to make him cringe. The woman covered her mouth with both hands, holding back a sharp gasp.

“Oh my god,” she said weakly, never having seen a dead body before. Though it made him feel sick, Ferris couldn’t take his eyes off of the scene. Soon, sirens started to fill the air down the street as an ambulance and policemen made their way through the traffic. Ferris turned back around, watching the elevator. Where were they? He started to feel nervous, wishing he knew more about what was going on. The buzzing vibration of his cell phone was enough to make him jump, and he hurriedly fumbled it from his pocket and brought it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“The car,” was all that the voice on the other side said before it hung up. It had been Demos. They must have gotten out through a back door. Ferris quickly walked past the scene, averting his eyes. Nobody really noticed him; all eyes were locked on the bloody mess on the sidewalk and loud chatter rose up amongst the crowd. He made his way down the block to where Victor’s car had been parked. Sure enough, the three were seated inside, casually smoking. Ferris got into the back seat silently. There wasn’t a thing he could think of saying.

“We’ll have to find a higher-up,” Victor said to Nicky, starting the car.

“Yeah, what if they’re all this stubborn?”

“Somehow,” Victor started, watching the ambulance lights flashing in the rear view mirror. “I doubt it.”