Chapter 5
The tan Plymouth, its license plates changed, exited the freeway and arrived in one of the business hubs of the city. The four occupants studied the area, noticing that up ahead, cars were carefully maneuvering around another vehicle that seemed to be stalled in the road.
"It looks like someone's having car trouble," Linda frowned as they got closer. Suddenly her eyes widened. "Wait! That's the Monkeemobile!" She leaned across Tony for a better look, much to his displeasure.
"Hey, she's right," Mugsy said then. "It is their car. It looks like it was abandoned too."
"Maybe they ran out of gas," the other man suggested.
Tony looked at it boredly. "That's their problem," he retorted. "We didn't come here to find them; we came to see if Baby Face really is around, like the papers said."
"Well, he's probably not still at the Purple Pelican," Linda remarked. "The police already went and looked for him there." Then she frowned darkly at Tony. "Why are you looking for him, anyway? You're not going to try to kill him again, are you? You should have learned your lesson last time, when you got shot! In fact, you're still not recovered from that."
Both of the men in the front turned to look at her in disbelief. "You can't talk to Tony like that, Linda," Mugsy objected, knowing that Baby Face would have absolutely gone berserk if a subordinate?or even someone who was not a part of the gang?had spoken to him in such a manner. And while Tony was much more calm, it could be easily gathered from his expression that he was not pleased, either.
"I'll say what I want," Linda snapped.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Well, you can relax," he said to Linda. "We're not here to bump him off. I just want to know what he's up to." He looked to Mugsy. "We'll see if he's been to the casino, and if not, we'll drop in at the Purple Pelican. Maybe someone there knows where he might have gone."
****
As it turned out, Baby Face was not at the casino. Bruno was surprised to see Tony alive, and he did inform him that a couple of hoods had come in the previous night talking about beating up someone whom they had believed to be Baby Face. They had found out, however, that it was not him at all. Bruno did not know where the real Baby Face was, but he had the feeling that he was alive and well.
Soon after this, the mob went to the Purple Pelican, as Tony had decided they would. They did not know what they expected to find there, but it was definitely not the sight of a man wearing a gray hat and a pin-striped suit talking to the owner.
"What's going on?" Mugsy blinked as they watched from a distance. "It looks like that guy is threatening Quentin."
"It looks like he's not succeeding," Tony added dryly as Mr. Quentin turned away with a bored expression. The man in the gray hat also turned away, looking frustrated.
"Hey!" Mugsy exclaimed then, tugging on Tony's arm. "I think I know him. That looks like Fuselli. He wanted to open a string of restaurants all along the West Coast." This was highly shocking to Mugsy, as Fuselli had been supposedly dead?killed during an notorious shootout with several other members of the Syndicate organization.
Tony raised an eyebrow, but still was not very interested in the matter. "Yeah? Well, we don't need to worry about him. His operations never crossed paths with ours." He decided not to waste time being surprised over finding Fuselli alive. After all, it did not seem as though anyone could stay dead in these parts?himself included. People could survive being wounded during gang wars, as Micky and Rocco and Tony had already proved. Fuselli had probably decided to keep his survival a secret, for the most part, until he could successfully get his racket running again. By the looks of things, he was not making much progress.
"He might've seen Baby Face, though," their other colleague suggested, "or he could have heard something about him."
"Yeah, I know," Tony replied, stepping forward. "I'll talk to him."
Fuselli looked up as the other mobster approached, his expression one of annoyance over some new problem. Perhaps he thought that Tony also wanted control of the nightclub and that he was coming to gloat over the fact that Fuselli had failed to scare Mr. Quentin into signing the papers. But in any case he was not prepared to be asked if he knew anything about the location of Baby Face Morales. He definitely did not, however, and he firmly told that to Tony. Then he tried to quickly excuse himself, thinking that if he still had Rocco with him, he probably could have easily convinced Mr. Quentin into handing over control of the establishment. But Rocco had been killed during the gang war with the Syndicate, unfortunately. Fuselli was still looking for someone else who would work just as well.
Overhearing their conversation was one of the barflies who was around almost every night. Now he came over to them, offering them the information that Baby Face definitely had been there last night and that he had most likely left with Ruby during the police search. This man, and most of the others who frequented the Purple Pelican, had not admitted to the police that Baby Face was there. It meant little to them that gangsters came to the club. It made things more interesting, at any rate.
"Say," the drunkard added as an afterthought, "I haven't seen any of Baby Face's torpedoes around lately. The last time was when that guy Rocco showed up a few weeks ago and talked to the dame Ruby."
Immediately Fuselli came to attention. "Rocco?" he repeated. Naturally, it could not be the same one, but it still seemed like an odd coincidence.
"Yeah," the intoxicated man answered with a grin. "Big, tall guy. Really tough. Not the kind of person I'd want to have as an enemy." With that he staggered past Fuselli, Tony, and the others as he made his way back to the bar.
Fuselli frowned, watching him go, and then looked back to the small group of gangsters. "What do you know about this Rocco guy?" he asked.
They exchanged looks, then looked back to Fuselli. "Not much," Mugsy admitted. "Baby Face got him into the gang after we got out of it."
"But it's pretty well-known that he used to belong to the Syndicate," Tony added, crossing his arms.
Fuselli gave him a hard look. "Yeah, huh?" he mused. If it was true that Rocco had survived, then Fuselli wanted him back. It would save the trouble and money of continuing to look for someone else who would work just as well. Now all he needed to do was to find where Rocco was, and perhaps if he followed Tony and his men, they would lead him to the location.
He turned to leave. "I gotta be going," he muttered.
Tony nodded, watching him depart, and then looked back to the others. "No one's being much help here," he said in irritation. "Let's go." He glanced around for the man whom he had seen and then rolled his eyes when he saw him at the bar, guzzling down another shot of whiskey and teetering dangerously on the stool. He doubted that that man would be of any assistance. He had probably only seen Rocco and later Baby Face come in, and had not overheard any of their conversations. And in any case, Tony did not think that the man would be able to even answer any questions in a coherent way now.
"Where are we going to go, Tony?" Mugsy asked as he followed after him.
"We'll have to check Ruby's place," Tony answered. He did not know of any other place they could investigate.
****
When the three Monkees and Baby Face arrived at said locale, they noticed an unmarked car parked across the street. Baby Face glowered at it with distaste. "It's probably a couple of cops who figure that they'll catch me by staking out the joint," he growled, and promptly shoved his gun into Mike's side. "But don't you have any funny ideas about tipping them off," he warned. "For right now, I'm your friend Micky. That's what you tell them if they stop us." His gaze pierced Mike's eyes, and the guitarist winced.
"That's a crime, you know," Davy frowned. "It's lying to the police! We could end up arrested for that." Then he gulped as the gun was aimed between his eyes.
"Or I might just decide to stop being Mr. Nice Guy and shoot you already," Baby Face retorted. "Then jailtime would be the least of your worries!"
"If you shoot us, we won't have any more worries," Mike grumbled, fumbling for the door handle.
"He's right, you know," Peter agreed, following Mike once the door was opened.
"I don't care who's right," Baby Face snapped, pushing Davy out before climbing out himself. "Move!" He slipped his gun back inside his jacket, not wanting the police officers to see it, and was just about to slam the door shut when the cabbie spoke up.
"Hey, what about my pay?" the man demanded, holding his hand out the window.
Baby Face's lip curled in disgust. "Take care of it," he ordered Mike.
Mike gave him a smouldering look, but he knew that arguing would not serve any purpose. Baby Face would not give in and it would just be a waste of time. And so with a sigh, he reached into his pocket and pulled out several bills. Carefully he counted them up and then handed them to the driver, who nodded in thanks and quickly drove off, eager to get away from the strange quartet?and especially the gun-toting psychopath.
The occupants of the unmarked car were definitely staring the foursome down as they went by, but they did not attempt to stop and question them. Most likely, if they truly were police officers, they merely assumed that Baby Face was actually Micky and that there was not any need to prevent them from going into the apartment building. And of course there was also the possibility that they were not men of the law at all, but something entirely different.
****
When they arrived at the correct apartment, Baby Face took out the spare key that he had and inserted it into the lock. Unlocking the door, he thrust it open and stepped inside first, taking in the darkened living room and kitchenette with narrowed eyes. Ruby had not been back there since last night?he was certain of it. This did not surprise him, but he wondered where he could look for her and Micky. There were several hideouts that he knew of, but it seemed to him that they might decide to pick something new. He wanted to find a clue to their whereabouts in the apartment, but he actually did not believe that he would.
"Nice little place she's got here," Mike spoke up abruptly as he, Davy, and Peter came up behind the mobster.
Baby Face grunted, not really answering. "Don't open the curtains," he ordered, seeing Peter start to head in that direction. "With any luck, maybe those idiots outside won't know that we actually came in this apartment." He turned and entered the bedroom to search through the dresser drawers, leaving the trio to browse through the other rooms.
Davy crossed his arms. "I have to tell you, fellas, I really don't like this," he declared. "Couldn't this be considered aiding and abetting a criminal?" He watched Mike open the kitchen cabinets. "And trespassing?"
The Texan sighed. "Well, we came in with her boyfriend," he said slowly, "so maybe she won't mind too much. We'll leave everything the way it was when we found it." He reached up to check the highest cupboards, but only found food?as he had expected. "And as for being with Baby Face, well, we're not helping him commit any crimes. All we want is for him to lead us to Micky. The police have to do stuff like this sometimes."
Peter sighed and hesitantly opened a desk drawer in the living room. "I know . . . but still, I don't like it, either, Michael. He tried to kill Micky before! How do we know he won't try again when we find him?" He glanced through the contents and then closed the compartment once again. The others could see the disillusion and bewilderment in the blonde Monkee's eyes. He wanted to be able to believe that Baby Face would not cause them any more trouble, but it was very hard for him to do so. The entire incident with Linda and Henry had destroyed some of his innocence.
Mike sighed as well. "We don't," he answered, "and I wouldn't put anything past him. Don't let your guard down around him for even a minute." He came out from around the counter, his dark eyes serious and grim. "And there's something else I've been wondering about," he said now.
"Micky, right?" Davy surmised.
Mike nodded. "Yeah, man. I mean, what really would he be doing running around with Baby Face's girl?" It did not make sense to him at all. He had to wonder if Baby Face's theory, about Micky being hired to catch the rest of the gang, could be true after all. Perhaps the police had not wanted Micky to contact the others before going undercover. They might have thought that would make things all the more difficult.
"Maybe she was lonely," Peter suggested.
"But why would she want to go with Micky?" Davy pointed out with a frown. "It's Baby Face she's in love with." He shook his head. "If they're together, she must have thought that she was with Baby Face. And that does make it sound like Micky must have gone undercover." He glowered. "But to do it without telling us. . . ."
They all looked up abruptly when Baby Face came out of the bedroom, looking extremely angry. "Well, you uh, didn't find anything, I take it," Mike spoke up then, trying to sound perfectly casual?and failing.
"Gee, what was your first clue?" Baby Face growled sarcastically. He pointed at the window. "We've got company."
"The police?" Peter asked.
Baby Face shook his head. "Tony and his gang," he retorted. He had heard the car right outside the bedroom window and had carefully peeked through the blind slats to see. He had not known what had happened to them since the gang war, either, or whether or not his former associate had survived. He had been surprised when he had been frustrated and angry over Tony's apparent death, but finding him alive now did not mean very much to him. It was not as if the two of them could again work together. Now they were enemies. Of course, they were both at fault, but Baby Face still was likely to throw most of the blame onto Tony.
Davy made the "Oh" sound, and Mike and Peter exchanged looks. That information did not sound good. If they were not careful, Ruby's apartment could be the stage for another show-down. And that was the last thing they wanted.
Peter looked back to Baby Face. "What do they want?" he asked. "There's not anything here that they should be interested in. . . ." Then he trailed off, continuing to stare at Baby Face as he realized that he had his answer.
"They're tracking me, you idiot," the gangster snapped anyway.
Mike hurried to push another drawer back into place. "Do you . . . want to pretend you're Micky again?" he queried, feeling uncomfortable.
Baby Face glared at him. "Nah, it wouldn't work this time," he answered. "If you had Micky with you, there's no reason why you'd be hanging around here, and Tony would know it." He leaned on the wall, pulled out his gun, and the three Monkees stared at it in horror before quickly backing away. Without a doubt, a battle was going to erupt.
"Hey," they could hear Mugsy saying out in the hall, "it looks like someone's here, alright. The door's ajar." With that he thrust the door open all the way and stepped inside, the others following.
Immediately Baby Face pointed the gun at Mugsy, never moving from his position of leaning against the wall. "Alright, you found me," he said coldly. "What's the matter? You didn't take enough punishment the last time we battled?"
Mugsy blinked, looking surprised at having found him so quickly. "Where's Ruby?" he asked, not extremely concerned by the fact that Baby Face was training the revolver on him. He had done that all the time, as intimidation.
Baby Face looked at him darkly. "Ruby's not here," he retorted. "I'm looking for her too."
"You are, huh?" Tony walked over to him, his brown eyes clearly showing his suspicions. "That's funny, because we've heard that she's with you."
Baby Face moved the gun to point at Tony. "Well, she isn't."
Linda, watching their conversation, could not stand it any longer. "Can't you two just get along like you used to?" she burst out. "You don't have to do all these stupid things with the guns. The both of you nearly got killed in that gang war you had with each other and the Syndicate!" Mugsy shot her a warning look, but she did not pay attention. She was growing tired of the whole mess and she wanted it to all be over. If only she could go back to before any of this had happened. . . .
Mike, Davy, and Peter, hiding behind the counter, were stunned when they heard Linda's voice. Immediately they got up, staring at the scene before them.
"Linda!" Davy cried. "What are you doing here?"
She started and then looked over at them in disbelief. "What are you doing here with this rotten mobster?!" she shot back, stunned that they would be here in Ruby's apartment with Baby Face.
"What are you doing with three rotten mobsters?!" Davy exclaimed.
Mike covered his face with a hand and shook his head slowly. This was not going to turn out well. He was certain of it. And flinging insults around was not going to help.
"You know, Vince is actually a nice person," Linda remarked then, her frustrations spilling over. "I wish he'd get away from these lowlifes." She gestured at Tony and the other gang member, who both frowned at her. Mugsy looked embarrassed, then annoyed.
"They're not lowlifes," he retorted.
"Shut up!"
Everyone came to attention when Baby Face yelled. The mobster was holding his gun in the air, as if he were about to shoot a hole through the ceiling. And he actually might have done that, too, if he had become much angrier.
"Look," he said in a dangerously calm tone, his hazel eyes flashing, "the only reason I'm with these crumbs is because their friend is missing. You know, the one who looks like me? He's the one off somewhere with Ruby, and I want to know why and where. They want their friend back, and they're not going to leave me alone until the guy's found. Now, if all of you want to stand around arguing, fine! But do it on your own time!" With that he lowered the weapon again and looked as though he was ready to storm out through the door.
That was when it occurred to him that they did not have any further means of transportation. Either he would have to call for another taxi, which he did not want to do, or else he would have to travel with Tony and the others, which he also did not want to do. He weighed the matter over in his mind, but at last turned to look at Tony darkly. "We'll have to search the city for Ruby's car," he decided. "There's nothing here that's helping us figure this out."
Tony looked at him boredly. "It's not our problem," he reminded his former associate.
Baby Face aimed the gun at Tony's heart. "I can make it your problem," he threatened. Mugsy reached to grab him and pull him back.
"Okay, okay, hold it!" Mike yelled, stepping into the fray. "Look, this is ridiculous!" He glared at Baby Face, and then at Tony and his associates. "All we want to do is find Micky, right?" He did not wait for anyone to answer. "I don't like this any more than any of the rest of you do, but we're going to have to work together if we want to solve any of this!" His eyes widened as he found Baby Face's gun pointing at him, but then he frowned again and pushed the pistol away. "Come on! Just cut it out already!" he snapped.
"Hey, guys," Peter interrupted then, from his position looking out the forbidden window, "I think we're going to have more company."
Everyone looked over at him. "Who this time?!" Baby Face demanded.
"Well," Peter answered slowly, "those men from the unmarked car are getting out and heading this way." He shrugged helplessly, knowing that if they were policemen, the entire lot of them could get in trouble if they were found at their current location. And, if the strange men were not policemen, then they could very possibly also get in trouble.
Baby Face cursed. "Come on!" he ordered, running out the door and down the hall toward the back exit. For once no one protested, though Tony did get frustrated when everyone tried to pile into the Plymouth parked outside.
"This isn't big enough for all of you!" he snapped, getting crowded in by Mike, Peter, and Baby Face. "It only seats six, and there's eight people in here!"
"Then somebody'll have to sit on the floor," Baby Face retorted, then looked over at Mugsy. "Drive already!"
Mugsy looked hesitant, but when he saw Baby Face raising his gun, he swiftly started the engine. Outside the car, shouting and running could be heard, and then the sound of a gunshot.
"Holy frogs' legs! They're shooting at us!" Davy gasped, turning to stare out the back windshield at the two men from the unmarked car. He could see them running after the tan vehicle, their revolvers held high as they aimed for first the tires, then the windshield and mirrors.
"Everybody duck!" Mike yelped, as Mugsy pealed out of the lot and as the shower of bullets continued. Everyone quickly complied with Mike's order.
Linda, seated in the front, was alarmed. "Who are those men?!" she cried, glancing in the rear-view mirror. "What did you do to make someone angry this time, Tony?"
"I didn't do anything," Tony answered in annoyance.
"You could've fooled me," Linda muttered. As the initial shock of being part of another gang had begun to wear off, Linda had become more fiery and caustic, especially towards Tony. She had not noticed, but Mugsy definitely had. He sighed, but decided not to enter the argument and to simply drive instead. Another bullet zipped by, taking a chunk out of the side mirror.
Mike blew out his breath in frustration. "This is just what I always wanted," he stated sarcastically, looking from Davy and Peter to Baby Face, Linda, and the others, "to be riding in an old Plymouth at eighty miles an hour, with arguing mobsters for company and more mobsters outside, trying to shoot us off the road." Davy and Peter both snickered, but no one else seemed very amused.
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