It was so infrequently Red was able to get the upper hand on the Bird-man and his guard dog — the human one — but when he did, it was so delicious. He’d sailed into the place Reese called home with a smile on his face and a story about little Suzy Schechtmann in fourth grade that all led to the fact that he knew two things: They were looking for Dean Simpkins, and they couldn’t find him. He’d informed the pair that he had an address for Mr. Simpkins, and that he’d happily fetch him, but when he got back he had a job for John, one he wouldn’t want to pass up.
Of course, he had underestimated just how much trouble Mr. Simpkins was in that John and the Bird-man were after him. He’d had Dembe wait in the car, which, in hindsight, had been a mistake. A group of armed thugs
– that’s all they were, people who stood in the dark and ambushed the wrong person
–
had been lying in wait. Thankfully, he didn’t lose consciousness from the attack and was able to pay acute attention from beneath the pillowcase (really? He could see through it much better than they probably realized).
They, stupidly, allowed him a phone call. Considering Mr. Simpkins was more connected to Reese than Dembe, he called the man in the suit. “It appears I’ve gotten myself caught between a rock and a proverbial hard place,” he said, “I’m afraid I can’t make our lunch. That odd shop owner on 75th has kept me absolutely tied to my seat, I don’t think I can get away, my friend. Come by my place sometime, I’ll cook to make up for it. I hope you understand.” He clicked the flip phone shut, “There, now you’ve got my undivided attention, gentlemen.” It was clumsy at best, but they’d rattled his brain quite a bit whilst subduing him. John was a smart man, he’d figure it out.