Human Frailty

 

Sullivan stood outside the gates of the mansion and watched the party spill from inside unto the lawn. The house was gaudy as hell and did not reflect his taste at all, that aside the place still cost more than he could ever hope to make in a dozen lifetimes. The rich get richer and the poor get poorer, that was certain to be the attitude of the man he had come to see.

​As Sullivan walked up the cobblestone path toward the house, he took note of all the pretty but scantily clad women. Easy answer as to house types like Noel Sawyer, managed to get women like this, money.

​“Hey baby,” said a pretty brunette in cut offs and a bikini top.

​“Hi,” he returned just to not seem rude. He had not come here tonight to get laid. For Sawyer and he alone.​

​The house foyer was standing room only. The other rooms were just as crowded, filled with men and women all wanting the same thing. The music was so loud everyone was shouting to be heard, he wondered how anyone could hear themselves think. He knew he was getting old when he started to think this way.

​He decided to block out all of the distraction and just find Noel.

​“Excuse me but have you seen Noel?” he asked a girl who dancing by herself at the crowd’s edge.

​She looked at him blankly. Sullivan was not sure if this was due to her being drunk, stoned, or maybe it was just the volume of the music.

​He leaned in closer and repeated the question.

​“I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is,” she yelled back to him.

​That did not surprise him. The more people there were at a party the greater the chances that the guests were showing up with someone who had been invited or simply came on their own.

​Instead of shouting an acknowledgement, he merely nodded and walked away. All he had to do was stay patient and keep looking, Sawyer had to be around here somewhere.

​Making his way through the crowd he looked for the one place at a party where everybody was certain to end up at one time or another, the kitchen, which turned out to be was just as crowded as all of the room places throughout the house. He made a bet with himself there was not even a scrap of food left in the refrigerator.

​“Have you seen Noel?” he asked a goateed guy with a face that showed all of the intelligence of wallpaper.

​“Yeah dude, saw him a few minutes ago. He was headed upstairs.”

​At least he was on the bastard’s trail, he thought. Then thanked the stoner for his help and moved away.

​As Sullivan moved up the stairs to the second floor, he wondered what he was going to find when he finally did catch up with Sawyer. He hoped that he was not going to find him in bed with someone. If Sawyer were with an innocent bystander that would change things. He needed to get Sawyer alone, then he could take care of business.

​When Sullivan reached the second floor, he found a girl leaning against wall crying.

​Hardly a surprise. He could not thing of any wild party he had ever been to where there had not been at least one girl in tears somewhere. It seemed to be more a part of a party than a disruption of it.

​Sawyer being the only one who actually lived in the house, Sullivan guessed that his bedroom would be the one at the end of the hallway.

​Once inside, he discovered that Sawyer’s bedroom was larger than his own living room. A large screen television was located on the far wall next to a pricey sound system.

​Noel Sawyer laid in the middle of the bed, his shirt unbuttoned.

​“What are you doing here?”

​There it was. That tone that always so enraged Sullivan that he wanted to kill kittens.

​“I came to see you.”

​Sawyer sneered.

​“You only come to me when I send for you.”

​Sullivan, who had never been impressed with Sawyer stood his ground.

​“I said get out.”

​“Fuck you.”

​Sawyer did a double take.

​“Well look who just grew a pair.”

​“I think it’s time we reviewed our arrangement,” Sullivan said.

​“That’s what you get for thinking, dumbass. Now get your fucking ass outta here. Or maybe you would like it to get out that hotshot cop Mitch Sullivan is on the take. Won’t everyone just love learning that.”

​“That doesn’t matter now. I’ll take whatever comes.”

​Sawyer rolled his eyes.

​“Whatever. You do you champ.”

​The door opened and a large black man that Sullivan guessed to be around 6’4 and about 300 pounds or close to it came inside the bedroom. Curtis Wargrave, called himself, “Big Cat.” Wargrave was Sawyer’s chief muscle.

​Seeing Wargrave made Sawyer’s sneer even more visible.

​“Cat. Glad you’re here Bro. Our buddy Mitchseems to have forgotten his place. Maybe you should remind him.”

​Wargrave, without word or hesitation moved toward Sullivan only to stop in his tracks just as quickly.

​A nine-millimeter pointed at your heart will do that.

​“It’s time I have my say,” Sullivan said.

​Sullivan noticed a change in Sawyer, from arrogance to uncertainty. Good, he had finally had the bastard’s attention.

​“You lied to me, Noel. You said I was supposed to be dropping off money to that girl, not drugs.”

​Sullivan could see Sawyer’s uncertainty was now tinged with a hint of fear. He was not used to being on the wrong end of a gun. He knew to keep a close eye on him. Sawyer was a little shit, but also a predator. He would try wait until the right moment and strike. He was going to have to make that one never presented itself.

​“I found her lying on the floor, Noel, dying not just from an overdose. She was still alive, but past the point of anyone being able to help her. She begged me not to leave her, to just stay there and hold her hand. It was only after she was dead that I opened the package you gave me and found the drugs.”  

​Sawyer’s face showed neither empathy nor sympathy.

​Not even understanding.

​No surprise, but that was going to change.

​“I told you from the start when I agreed to your offer that I was not going to run drugs for you. You agreed. But you lied, Noel. I guess I really always knew you were. I just didn’t want to admit it to myself. That way, I didn’t have to face that I had given into my own human frailty. That I let a cockroach like you get the better of me in a moment of weakness. “

​“Moment of weakness?” Sawyer laughed, his sneering contempt back with a vengeance. “This was hardly a one-time thing, Buster Brown. You’ve made quite the little nest egg for yourself.”

​ “Yeah, you bought me but you no longer own me. You gave that girl bad drugs, guaranteed to kill her or whoever else takes them. But you don’t care about any of that, right? Always more where she and whoever else came from. You couldn’t even be up front about that. I guess I know why they call drug dealers, ‘death peddlers.’

​Sullivan reached inside his coat and produced a large baggie filled with white powder.

​Sawyer’s eyes flickered, confirmation he recognized the baggie in Sullivan’s hand.

​“I see you recognize it.”

​“Listen Sullivan…”

​“I said you recognize it. You should, since it’s the same one you had me deliver to the girl an hour ago.”

​Sawyer’s mind raced. He had to keep Sullivan talking, keep him focused on him until Big Cat could rush him. After that things were going to get very painful for this guy.

​Sullivan read the other man’s mind but was already a step ahead.

​“It won’t work, Noel.”

​He pointed the gun back to Wargrave but the other man’s face remained calm. The eyes however were those of a wolf eyeing its next meal.

​“If you shoot us, people will hear it,” Sawyer said feeling stupid the instant the words were out of his mouth. The music booming throughout the house ensured that no one was going to hear shots fired.

​“You know…Noel, the Irish Republican Army had a rather interesting form of punishment ​for traitors. They would blow their right kneecaps off.”

​Sawyer’s face fell.

​Sullivan felt a rush of satisfaction seeing the fear in the other man’s face.

​“No, Noel. I’m not going to do that. I think in your case, we should do something a little more appropriate to our situation. I would like for you,” he swung the pistol between Sawyer and Wargrave, “the both of youto each take half of what’s in this bag and eat it.”

​Wargrave rolled his eyes.

​“C’mon Boss,” he said, speaking for the first time, “He’s fuckin’ kidding. Let me break his ass. This fucker don’t have the nuts to pull no trigger.”

​Sawyer looked at Wargrave and then toward Sullivan seeming to gain confidence from his enforcer’s words.

​“Do it.” 

​Wargrave moved toward Sullivan who calmly pointed the pistol at the larger man’s heart and fired.

​A spot appeared on Wargrave’s shirt, darkened, then spread. Wargrave looked toward his chest and then dropped to his knees before falling face forward.

​Sullivan turned his gaze back to Sawyer who at that moment looked more frightened than he had ever been in his life.

​“I hope you have a big appetite, Noel,” Sullivan said throwing the bag of heroin toward him, “because it’s all yours.”