I said, “You guys think you could step away from my brother for a minute? Maybe we can talk about the issue.” I was serious, even though I probably was coming across as a smart-ass.

The smaller guy, wiry like my brother, who I’d already determined was in charge, said, “Ain’t nothing to discuss. Got nothing to do with you.”

“Except, like I said, he’s my brother. Mom expects to see him in one piece.”

The wiry guy looked over his shoulder and said, “Manny, deal with this.”

Everyone talks about how big guys are scary, but if you’ve been in a couple of fights, you learned a few things about dealing with giant, angry people. I let this behemoth turn toward me and square off just so I could get an idea of his abilities. Usually, when you’re that big, you don’t bother to learn the subtleties of martial arts or boxing. This guy was no exception. He balled up both fists and took a wide stance in front of me. I could’ve played with him and made it look like I had real skills, but instead I used an old, simple trick. I lifted my left hand high in the air and watched his eyes follow it like a puppy watching a ball. Then I used my right leg like a punter and brought it up right between his legs. The big man crumpled onto the ground while he tried to suck in some air.

The wiry guy spun away from my brother and started to reach under his shirt. My brother shoved him hard toward me, and I lifted my elbow to catch him square in the chin. When he stumbled back onto the ground, I stepped over and found the small, cheap .380 automatic pistol he was reaching for. I dropped the magazine and ejected the round in the chamber. Then I threw the thing down hard on the street and was shocked to see it skip along the asphalt and drop into a drain. It was like I had scored a goal in hockey. Without thinking about it, I reached up and my brother gave me a high five. Just like when we were kids.

I helped the giant man with the sore crotch stand and then grabbed the wiry guy by the arm.

“You guys need to be on your way. You can talk to Natty some other time.” Somehow, I knew the nice, rented Cadillac parked right next to us was theirs, and I opened the door and stuffed the big guy behind the wheel.

After a minute, when they slowly pulled out of the parking lot, my brother said, “Thanks, little brother.”

“Friends of yours?”

“He’s the guy I think committed that homicide I called you about.”

Chapter 3

Chapter 3