Chapter 7

When Vinnie didn't show up for work on Thursday morning, Tom phoned his apartment. The phone rang several times before a barely audible voice answered.

"Vinnie! Are you all right? Are you sick?" Tom asked in a worried voice.

"Yah, sort of," he replied weakly.

"What do you mean, sort of?" Tom asked more assertively. "What happened Vinnie?"

"Tremblay and one of his goons paid me a visit last night," he said in a halting voice.

"They said they wanted their money by the end of the week or it would get worse."

"Stay there Vinnie. I'll be right over," Tom ordered.

Tom called Robbie Delgado and told him that he had to leave and that Vinnie wouldn't be in today. He asked Robbie to visit all three jobsites during the day to make sure everyone had their task list, starting with Vinnie's crew.

He then jumped into his truck and made the half hour journey to Vinnie's apartment. When he arrived, Vinnie was sitting in a large recliner in front of his TV. Tom couldn't see any marks on his face, but it was all Vinnie could do to turn his head to welcome his older brother.

"What did they do, Vin?" Tom asked with a worried frown.

"Mostly ribs and gut. I can hardly move right now," he replied in a pained voice.

"Bastards!" Tom spat. "I'll make 'em pay for this."

Tom paused for a minute and then asked his brother, "Have you got a phone number for..." Tom stopped again.

"No, never mind. I know what to do," he said to no one in particular.

"You stay here and sit tight, Vin. I'll look after this guy and the debt," Tom ordered.

"Tom, be careful. You can't trust these guys. He's got some friends," Vinnie warned.

"So have I, Vin ... so have I," he said menacingly.

"Stay here and don't answer the phone. If it's me or something important, let them leave a message and you can get back to them. Whatever you do, don't talk to Tremblay or Marcia, understood?"

"Yah, understood." Vinnie answered in a soft voice.

"Hey Tom," he called faintly as his brother had turned to leave. "Thanks."

Tom nodded and looked at his wounded brother with a wrinkled smile, turned and walked out, closing the apartment door behind him.

-0-

On the way back to Vinnie's jobsite, Tom made a couple of phone calls, one to Peter Dennison at Orca, and another to Steve Inhalt. He had a plan, a risky one, but at least it was a plan. He chose not to share it with anyone, especially Jenny.

When he arrived at Vinnie's site, Robbie was there and they spent a half hour discussing what needed to be done. Tom asked Robbie to remain there for the balance of the day, and he would cover for him at Robbie's site as well as his own. He knew Robbie's crew would be fine on their own for a day or so, and his own project was a smaller renovation that wasn't proving to be difficult.

By eleven that morning everything was under control, and he could spend some time thinking about what he had to do with Mr. Martin Tremblay. He was waiting for a return phone call from both Peter and Steve that would let him know what his options were. He was becoming increasingly nervous and decided to head home for lunch, something he almost never did.

Jenny would be at the store and Nikki in school, so he would be alone. He needed some time to think through what he wanted to do. First, he had to calm down. He realized how angry he was this morning when he discovered his brother had been beaten. He wasn't just angry at Tremblay, but also at Vinnie for bringing this on himself. He sat at the kitchen table nursing a beer and mentally planning just how he hoped this one and, with any luck, only meeting with Tremblay would go.

Tom was distracted for the rest of the afternoon while he waited for the two phone calls. Steve Inhalt called first, just after 2pm. He confirmed that the arrangements Tom had requested were in place. He was curious about what Tom planned to do, but Tom politely put him off and suggested he would give him the whole story later.

Peter didn't call until nearly 4:30pm, but he had obtained the important information that Tom needed prior to meeting with Tremblay. He too was curious about what Tom planned and warned him against anything illegal. But in the end, he could only wish Tom luck after extracting the promise from him to tell him what he did. With the information in hand, Tom began to feel a bit more confident.

Jenny arrived home with Nikki at their usual time, just after 5pm. They briefly kissed and asked each other about their day while Tom gave Nikki a hug and a kiss. Nikki skipped off downstairs to begin her homework and Jenny poured Tom and herself a glass of wine before she began to prepare their supper.

Tom told her he had a meeting at 8pm in the city with a prospective client, and would be out for a couple of hours or so. He told her nothing of Vinnie's beating, or his contact with Peter or Steve.

It almost came unglued when Robbie called with a progress report, and had a brief chat with Jenny before handing off to Tom. Luckily, he said nothing about Vinnie's absence, and Tom breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Tom drove through the dark late-October evening to the address that Peter had given him. He would not be phoning ahead to give Tremblay any advance warning of his visit. When he had parked entered the outer lobby of the fifteen story apartment building, he followed Peter's suggestion.

He pushed ten or twelve buttons, begin careful not to push the one for Tremblay's apartment. As the various tenants picked up and inquired, he simply said Fed-Ex and waited for one of the unsuspecting tenants to push the electric lock. Sure enough, within seconds, he was at the elevators and on his way up to the ninth floor.

As he exited the elevator on nine, he began to look for apartment 921. He paused in the hallway to slow his breathing and remember Peter's instructions. He held a clipboard in his hands and stuck a pencil behind his ear. He stepped to the door of 921 and knocked firmly three times.

He heard a TV inside and then an accented voice called:

"Who is it?"

"Security," was Tom's one word reply.

The door had a peep hole and Tom was sure Tremblay would be using it to check him out. After a few seconds, the door began to open. Tom pushed hard against the edge of the door and the man inside went sprawling on the carpet behind him. Tom closed the door behind him, walked over to a surprised, medium sized man, grabbed him by his shirt near the collar and dragged him to his feet.

"Are you Martin Tremblay?" Tom asked in a menacing voice.

"What the fuck! ... Who the fuck are you?" the man spluttered.

"Who the fuck do you think you are to come in here and push me around, asshole?"

"Let's try this one more time. Are you Martin Tremblay?"

"So what's it to you if I am?" he sneered.

Tremblay never saw it coming. Tom's hand moved barely one foot in distance before the heel of it hit the smaller man in the sternum. A violent whoosh of air came out of Tremblay's mouth and his eyes went wide as once again he was on the floor looking up. Tom stood over him, saying nothing, waiting for the man to regain his breathing and pick himself up.

"Allow me to introduce myself," Tom said coldly. "I'm Tom Blanton, Vinnie's brother."

"You think you can come in here and beat on me, asshole? I got friends to look after guys like you," he spat, once again trying to take back the initiative.

"According to my information, you've got one friend. That would be the guy who worked over my brother last night. Do you know where he is right now?" Tom asked in a calm voice.

Inside, Tom was a bundle of nervous energy, but he fought to maintain control of his emotions. He had a job to do.

"He's hangin' around waiting for me to call him," Tremblay said warily.

"Hmmm ... probably not," Tom said quietly.

"You need to be more careful with your hiring policy, Martin. Your boy, one Mr. Ranjit Singh, is a parolee from Federal Prison, and if I'm not mistaken, he is right now answering some questions about an assault that took place last night. The RCMP may or may not let him go, but I'm told his parole officer is very unhappy with his behavior lately."

"You think I can't find someone else to look after business?" Tremblay sneered as he began to gain back some bravado.

"Possibly, but that's not why I'm here," Tom began. "I understand my brother owes you some money. Care to tell me how much?"

Tremblay stopped and looked at Tom for a minute before answering.

"He owes me seventy five grand," he stated, somewhat hesitantly.

"Bullshit!" Tom said evenly. "He borrowed fifty five thousand. Even at your crooked interest rates that doesn't make seventy five."

"I said seventy five and I mean seventy five," Tremblay said, again trying to assert some control.

"Here's how it's going to happen, pal," Tom said with a cold stare. "I'm going to write you a certified check for sixty seven thousand and five hundred dollars and that is going to be the end of it. The debt will be retired and you will never have any contact with me or anyone else in my family ... understood?"

"Fuck you ... seventy five thousand and I mean it!" Tremblay tried again.

"Now you're being silly," Tom smirked. "Let me tell you why I think that. First, you are a small timer with no contacts in this city. You're from Montreal, and you thought this city would be a pushover for a guy with your smarts.

"Trouble is, this is one tough city to play in. You try and muscle in on someone else's game here and you can be found face down in a ditch, or floating in the harbor. You and your girlfriend Marcia had to play small time because that's all you could be without getting in someone's way. You just had the bad luck to pick the wrong family to play against."

"You don't scare me," Tremblay continued with his attempt at bravado.

"No, I'm sure I don't. However, some of the people at Canada Revenue might want to know more about your income sources. They would want to see records and interview clients, you know ... the usual audit procedures," Tom said with a wry smile.

"I'm not taking no cheque, that's for sure... ," Tremblay tried again. "This is a cash only business."

"You will take a cheque all right. It's the only way you'll get paid and my family always pays its debts," Tom said firmly.

"If you think I'm going to hand you cash so you can come back later for more, you're even stupider than I thought. That cheque will be made out in the amount of sixty seven five and it will be made out to you personally. If you try anything funny, the evidence will all point to you. In my business we call that insulation."

Tremblay turned away from Tom and walked to the living room window and stood there for a few moments.

"When do I get the cheque?" he asked without turning around.

"You'll have it tomorrow before noon. It will be delivered by courier to this address, another bit of insulation."

Tremblay remained looking out his window and finally turned back and walked over near Tom.

"You can count yourself lucky, Blanton. Nobody fucks with me! You got away with it this time," he snarled in his most threatening voice.

Tom's right hand swung in a flat, short, tight arc as it slammed into Tremblay's ribcage. A sharp cry of pain and once again he was on the floor. This time he wasn't getting up. Tom thought he heard a crack when he hit the man, but it didn't matter. Tremblay was doing everything he could to breathe through the pain, and was in no condition to continue the debate.

"On the contrary, Mr. Tremblay, you can count yourself lucky." Tom said coldly. "I was able to control my temper tonight. Nobody harms one of my family or friends and gets away with it. Nobody ... do you hear me?"

Tremblay couldn't look at Tom, but nodded his head almost imperceptibly.

Tom walked to the apartment door and let himself out. By the time he reached his truck, he was visibly shaking. It had been like a scene out of some B movie. He had been playing a role completely foreign to him, and yet he had pulled it off. He sat in the truck for several minutes trying to compose himself before he started it, and began to drive home through the dark, wet streets.

At halfway, he changed his mind and turned toward Vinnie's apartment. He let himself in with his key and found Vinnie unconscious in the same recliner he had been in that morning. He went to try and awaken him and noticed a deep red stain in the crotch of his pants. It was blood. He quickly picked up the phone and punched in 911.