The Killer Sex Game (A Frank Boff Mystery) (33 page)

Just as Emilio reached the stairs, Cullen’s adrenalin overrode the pain in his arm. The path to the aisle steps was unobstructed. The new champion jumped up and raced after Emilio. Wallachi’s two cops held up their badges and joined the chase. Cullen, who was a lot faster than Emilio, quickly closed in on him. He kicked out and caught the banker behind a knee. Emilio fell down. As his gun hand hit the stairs, the weapon skidded loose. Before he could reach out and pull it back, Cullen kicked the weapon further away. Then he planted a knee so hard on his back that the banker grunted. He was totally immobilized.

This gave the cops time to move in and corral
Emilio. One looped plastic restraint cuffs over his hands and pulled the locking mechanism. The other grabbed Emilio’s gun with a handkerchief and pocketed it.

All of the roving HBO cameramen had of course rushed over to catch this crazy, unheard-of, post-fight action. Within seconds, Boff had pushed Manny off his back and gotten up in time to see Cullen get on Emilio.
Now, as the two cops roughly pulled the would-be assassin to his feet, the crowd, which had been shocked into silence, erupted in a thunderous cheer for Cullen’s post-fight heroics. As the cops started pulling Emilio up the stairs, the crowd switched from cheering for Cullen to booing the villain. Cups of beer rained down from the upper rows, splattering both Emilio and the officers.

At the same time, security guards hustled over to Cullen. Forming a protective shell around him, they moved him quickly down the aisle stairs and into the tunnel leading to the safety of the locker rooms. McAlary and Kate climbed out the ring and rushed to join them, but guards at the tunnel blocked them from entering.

Wallachi turned to Boff. “Jesus, Frank, the fucking kid saved your life.”

Boff shook his head. “That would only be true
if
Emilio had been able to shoot me in the head. My plan worked to perfection.”

“Frank, your plan sucked.”

Immensely relieved to still be alive, Boff smiled. “Yeah, well maybe it did,” he conceded. “But the bottom line is the plan had the desired result.”

A much less desirable result for Boff was that now Cullen and Bellucci would never stop ribbing him about the way he crumbled after a single punch. And, yeah, also the fact that the damn kid had probably saved his life.

Now he owed him.

As cameramen and photographers rushed over to Boff, Wallachi punched Boff in the arm. “Hey, Frank, how about thanking Manny? He gave up his body to protect you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Manny said. “I was just doing my job.”

Boff smiled at the crack op. “I wasn’t intending to.”

When McAlary and Kate finally got clearance from security to go into the locker room, they found Cullen sitting on a bench having the wound in his arm cleaned and stitched up by the ring physician, a bull of a man in his forties with a bald head. The championship belt Cullen had just won was draped over the bench next to him. As his trainer and manager walked over, the boxer looked up and smiled.

“Hey, guys. The doc says my arm’s gonna be okay.”

McAlary seemed unimpressed. He turned to the physician. “You mean,
okay
as in okay for him to work as a clerk at Home Depot? Or
okay
to
fight
?”

The doctor smiled. “Your boxer was very lucky, Mr. McAlary. The bullet passed right through the fleshy part of his upper left arm. And it doesn’t appear to have nicked any bone or ligaments, though we’ll have to do an
MRI to be sure. At best, he has muscle damage that could take a few months to heal.”

“But he’ll be able to fight again, right?”

“If he sticks to his therapy, yes, he should.”

Kate stepped forward. “Danny
will
do the necessary work,” she said. “Count on it.”

McAlary collapsed on the bench beside Cullen. “In all my years around boxing,” he muttered loud enough for the room to hear his words, “in
all
my years, I’ve never seen anything like that. I thought you’d lost your mind when you jumped out of the ring.”

Kate joined her husband on the bench. “Danny, how did you know the guy had a gun?” she asked.

Exhausted from the wild night, Cullen just shook his head. “Can we, like, talk about that later? Right now, you know, I’d really like to be congratulated. And
not
for having saved Boff’s miserable ass.”

McAlary broke into a smile. “You did good, Danny boy! How does it feel to be a champion?”

“Man, it hasn’t fully sunk in yet. Only thing I know for sure is there’s a lot more to do. I want to win a title in a second and a third division, too. Just like my father did.” As it suddenly started to hit him that he was indeed a world champion, he looked up toward heaven. “Dad,” he said, “were you watching?”

McAlary’s smile went from ear to ear. “If he was,” he said, “he’d surely be proud of you.
Although
I must say I wasn’t too pleased about you throwing so many damn punches that early in the fight.”

“Ryan,” Cullen was almost too tired to talk, “I did that because I wanted to end the fight before Emilio shot Boff. And speaking of the Boffer, what happened with him?”

“The police took him for questioning. That bloke owes you a big debt of gratitude.”

Cullen laughed. “I’ll be fortunate if he even gives me a little thank-you.”

“Meanwhile,” Kate said, “the media’s going to run wild with this. Boxer pummels champion! Leaps into crowd to save a friend! Takes a bullet! And
then
corrals the bad guy! You can’t buy publicity like that. It’ll go national. I’m sure HBO’s already given a feed to the local TV stations and ESPN. Danny, you’re an instant star.”

Cullen hadn’t even thought about headlines and stardom. “You really think so?”

“Damn right,” Kate replied. “An HBO official already told me they’re gonna offer you a four-fight contract with a signing bonus. And I’m gonna milk them for every dollar I can get, thanks to that wild exhibition of courage you gave.”

“And recklessness,” McAlary added. “Don’t forget that. Recklessness. The damn kid almost got himself killed.”

“Oh lighten up, Ryan,” his wife said. “It’s over, Danny’s safe, and we have this—”

Reaching past her boxer’s legs, she grabbed the gold and leather championship belt and held it up. Cullen felt himself swelling with pride. It was the same belt his father had worn for so many years. The same belt he himself had carried at age eight when he first accompanied his dad on the ring walk. The magnitude of what he had done—both in the ring and outside it—suddenly slammed into him, even though his excitement was tempered a second later by his knowledge that if the bullet had been a few inches to the right, he’d probably be dead.

***

Boff was released by the NYPD an hour later. He left the precinct with Wallachi and Manny and called Jenny to tell her he was okay and on his way home. When he tried Cullen’s cell, the voicemail message said the boxer’s mailbox was full. Ditto for his home phone. Boff figured that between friends and the media, Danny would be unavailable until late in the night. He’d have to listen to the news reports to find out what damage the bullet had done.

Wallachi was driving when Boff’s cell phone rang.

Did you ever get shot with BBs gun?
said the raspy voice of Vinny Gorgeous.

“Can’t say as I’ve had the pleasure.”

Well, this is a warning. Watch out for BBs gun.

Alfano hung up.

“Who was that?” Wallachi asked.

“My wife
again.”

On the drive uptown, Boff tried to figure out what Alfano had meant about BBs gun. He couldn’t make any sense of it. The only thing he knew was that Alfano wouldn’t have warned him for nothing. Did Emilio find a backup button, or maybe more than one? BBs could refer to buttons. He suddenly had a bad feeling that this might not yet be over.

Wallachi pulled up at Boff’s apartment building, left Manny in the car, and escorted his friend through the front door into the lobby. They stood there a moment, just looking at each other.

“Helluva night, huh.” Wallachi suddenly looked worn out.

Boff nodded. “Thanks for all your help, Pete.”

“Hey, you’re paying. I’d have done the same for any client.”

Boff lightly punched his buddy’s arm and smiled. He knew Wallachi had gone the extra mile for him.

The minute he came through the front door, Jenny and Steven rushed him. His wife hugged him, then stepped back to get a better look at him. “Frank, you’re sure you’re not hurt?”

“I’m fine, honey. Just my pride is wounded.” He rubbed his chin. “The damn kid punched me out in front of thousands of people. Never mind the millions watching on TV. I’ll never live this down.”

Jenny shook her head. “That
damn
kid, Frank Boff, saved your damn life. And I bet you haven’t even thanked him yet.”

“I tried to. But the mailboxes on his cell and home phone are both full.”

“Dad,” Stephen couldn’t wait any longer, “Dad, we saw the whole thing on HBO and then on CNN! That was way cool! Sharon called from college. She said the TV stations in L.A. all showed clips of it, too. The other girls on her floor in the dorm all came into her room to watch replays on
SportsCenter
. Sharon says she’s a rock star now. You helped catch a killer, Dad. You’re, like,
totally
famous!”

“Son, I was already famous. I’ve won a lot of high-profile trials.”

“I believe the word you meant was
infamous
.”

Boff smiled. This was the first time his kids had ever been proud of him. He turned back to Jenny. “I’m starving, honey. Is there anything to eat?”

“Oh, I might be able to dig something up. Follow me, big guy.”

Entering the kitchen, Boff broke into a smile. On the kitchen table were a huge platter of assorted cold cuts, two loaves of crusty Italian bread, bowls of macaroni and potato salads, and a chilled box of his favorite Almaden Chablis.

“Think this will hold you?” she asked.

After giving his wife a big kiss, he sat down and dove in. Almost getting killed had made him tremendously hungry.

Boff was watching one of the late late-night TV talk shows when Cullen finally called.

Sorry I didn’t get to you sooner
. He sounded drunk.
Been doing a little celebrating.

“How’s the arm?”

I’ll be able to make my first title defense in about seven or eight months. Danny fucking Cullen, super fucking middleweight champion of the world!
Cullen belched loudly.
So when are you going to thank me?

“For what? I saved your life in Vegas. This was just payback. Now we’re even.”

I figured you’d see it that way. Actually, it’s you I should thank. By saving your fat ass, I’m now a national celebrity. They want me on the
Today Show
Monday morning and Anderson Cooper that night.

“Does this mean your publicity agent won’t let you have a humble celebratory lunch with me and the very few friends you have at Cheffy’s tomorrow afternoon?”

I think I can manage to get free.
Someone shouted Cullen’s name in the background.
I gotta go. There’s a bottle of champagne waiting for me.

***

Before Boff left for Cheffy’s the next day, he wondered if he should ask Wallachi to tail him to the restaurant. But without something more specific about Alfano’s message, he decided it would be a waste of time. Not to mention money. He thought about calling Alfano back for an explanation, but he knew if the
capo
had wanted to spell it out, he would have.

As a precaution, however, he wore his Kevlar.

When he arrived at the restaurant, Cullen and Bellucci were already sitting at a long table. Cullen’s arm was in a sling, and he looked hung over. His eyes were bloodshot and puffy.  As Boff took a seat, Cheffy—who now had the words WORLD CHAMP stenciled across his apron—walked out of the kitchen carrying another platter with appetizers to join the huge platters that were already on the table.

“Mr. Boff,” the cook said, “I hope you have a big appetite now.”

“I always do.”

A few minutes later, McAlary and Kate walked into the restaurant and sat at the table across from Cullen.

Cheffy pointed at the dishes on the table. “What we have here, my friends, is beef, chicken, and vegetable patties.” He pointed at a second grouping of plates. “These here are corn and avocado salads. The others are one of my specialties, jerk chicken salad.”

As Cheffy left to prepare more courses, Cullen caught McAlary staring at his face.

“Had a wee bit to drink last night, did you?” the trainer asked.

Bellucci laughed out loud. “Danny drank a whole bottle of champagne by himself. Plus a six pack of Bud Light.
He invited Dina from the escort service over…and there was a lot of screaming coming from his room. I guess his arm must’ve hurt him.”

Cullen didn’t think this was funny. “Thanks a lot, pal.”

McAlary frowned and turned to Bellucci. “What about you, Mikey? How much did you drink?”

Bellucci shook his head. “I don’t drink. My father was a drunk, remember? I never want to end up like him.
But I did get in a little action in the sack. Dina brought this knockout Japanese girl named Hazuki with her. Oh,
marone a mi
, I think I’m in love.”

About the time they started eating, Damiano arrived and joined the party.

“Congratulations, Danny,” the detective said. Then she turned to Boff with a grin on her face. “From what I saw on TV, you, my friend, need a better chin.”

“If I had a better chin,
Victoria, I might be dead.” 

Just as they were polishing off the last of the appetizers, Cheffy and Mattie the waitress brought two big, steaming bowls to the table. One was a hearty Jamaican pumpkin soup, the other, cow-foot and pigeon peas. After the soup, several platters of entrees arrived, and
Mattie came back a few minutes later with pitchers of fresh carrot juice and lemonade.

After an hour of feasting on the special goodies, McAlary and Kate stood up to leave. “I gotta get back to the gym,” the trainer said. “I have some fighters to train. Fighters, I might add, who aren’t
hung over
.” He looked straight at the champion. “I’ll expect to see you there tomorrow, Danny. Right after your therapy session. Even with the sling, you can walk ten miles a day on the treadmill. And when the doctor says you can take the sling off, you’re gonna do stomach exercises and one arm pull-ups and pushups. I don’t want you getting too far out of shape. Understand, son?”

Grinning, Cullen saluted his trainer.
“Yes, sir!”

McAlary leaned in closer. “You won’t think it’s so funny when your
arm’s fully healed, and I work your arse into the ground to deflate that swelled head of yours.”

At which point Kate pulled her husband away from the table. “Oh, for god’s sake, Ryan! Can’t you ever stop pushing Danny and just let him enjoy his moment?”

“That’s exactly what this is,” McAlary replied. “
A moment
. He still has his whole career and a big list of challenges ahead of him.”

Kate bent down, kissed Cullen, and then grabbed her husband’s arm and steered him out of the restaurant. A few minutes later, with another “Good job, Danny,” Damiano also took off.

Cullen pointed a fork full of curried goat at Boff. “Now that this case is over, what’s next on your morally-challenged agenda?”

“I’ve got a malpractice case involving an orthopedic surgeon accused of operating on the wrong knee of a patient.”

Bellucci made a face. “That doctor must be a real quack. What kind of idiot does that?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Boff
said. “My client is innocent of the charges.”

“Meaning,” Cullen said, “that he’s guilty, but you’ll get him off.”

Boff shrugged. He was really thinking about whether he should tell them there might still be another loose end out there. But until he knew what it could be, he decided not to say anything.