Body Blows Read Free

appropriate, but I stayed in the background with the caterers and parking attendants and didn’t stand out too much.
    Leo never told me why he was expecting trouble. I got the impression that it was a recent development and that prior to hiring a bodyguard, he had functioned quite comfortably with only Madge to tell him where his next meal was coming from, and if he was expected to send flowers.
    On the ninth day of my employment we were to attend a thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner supporting the candidacy of a man running for federal office. Leo bought me a place at his table. He was flanked by attractive women on either side, neither of whom looked like they wanted to harm him. The gentleman beside me was an inebriated gasbag and the twitchy younger man on his right was trying to avoid a scene. Neither looked to be a threat.
    Both of Leo’s sons were in attendance, albeit not at their father’s table, nor seated within twenty paces of each other. I hadn’t detected much paternal pride or filial warmth when he introduced me. I felt he was establishing his perimeter rather than being polite. Theodore, whom I’d already encountered, was accompanied by his wife whose name I learned somewhat later was Gloria. She looked tiny and apprehensive beside her walrus husband. I couldn’t blame her. Theo looked like he squashed things without thinking much about it.
    His greeting was curt. “Hiring muscle, Pop?”
    His wife wasn’t given the opportunity to shake my hand or say hi.
    Leo’s other son, Lenny, was a different sort. He had the look of a man who’d risen from the ranks. Although a head shorter and fifty pounds lighter, he braced me with a pugnacious scowl and a nod that said “I back down from nobody.” I believed him.
    His wife, Jackie, as it turned out, was cute and flirty. I don’t think her fluttering endeared me to Lenny.
    When coffee was served Leo excused himself to do some mingling and I rose to accompany him. Not too close: a large presence at his back.
    Leo schmoozed his way through the gathering with elegance and nimble feet. He didn’t have a date that evening and felt free to lavish charm on the neglected wives he encountered, never lingering long enough to start a rumour, just pausing sufficiently to earn a flattered titter from a matron or a proprietary glance from a preoccupied husband.
    People were standing now, moving from table to table, a small orchestra began tuning up across the dance floor. Leo pointed at, and then started moving toward the French doors leading onto a terrace. He wanted a cigar. I had the cigar case in my Manny Bigalow jacket pocket. Leo didn’t want his silhouette to bulge.
    I was two steps behind him as we passed through the French doors, reaching inside my jacket for Leo’s cigar case. Leo turned, already gesturing with two fingers for his after-dinner panatela, and I saw him spot someone over my shoulder, saw a change come over his face. With my left arm I swept Leo to the side as I swung around. Sharp snapping sounds. I took a bullet through my left trapezius which clipped my collarbone, another went through the fatty layer of my left exterior oblique muscle, and a third scorched across my chest and tore Leo’s cigar case to shreds an inch from my fingertips. There were two other shots fired but by this time I was down, dragging Leo with me. I heard screams and shouts and turned just in time to see a dark figure disappearing over the terrace wall. Leo hadn’t been hit. I’d been very lucky by about half an inch. Manny Bigalow’s suit was ruined.
    That was our last date.
    I spent some time getting well, then went to work full time for Leo as head of security for the jewel in his crown, the Lord Douglas Hotel. Leo stopped going out. He sequestered himself in the penthouse suite. He says he likes it up there. It’s comfortable enough, and it requires a special key to visit. The shooter was never