When the Sacred Ginmill Closes

by Lawrence Block

Page 20

 

  "I dont know. He told you to have a car and I presume he told you to have the money ready-"

  "Yeah, strangely enough he happened to mention it. "

  "- but he didnt give any indication of where hes going to want you to drive. "

  "None. "

  I thought about it. "What concerns me-"

  "Is walking into something. "

  "Thats right. "

  "I got the same concern. Its like walking point, youre out there and they can just bang away at you. Its bad enough paying ransom, but who knows if were even gonna get what we pay for? It could wind up being a hijack, and they could waste us while theyre at it. "

  "Why would they do that?"

  "I dont know. Dead men tell no tales. Isnt that what they say?"

  "Maybe they do, but murder brings heat. " I was trying to concentrate, and I wasnt thinking as clearly as I wanted to. I asked if I could have a beer.

  "Oh, Jesus, wheres my manners? What do you want, bourbon, cup of coffee?"

  "I think just a beer. "

  Skip went to get it. While he was gone his partner said, "This is crazy. Its unreal, you know what I mean? Stolen books, extortion, voices over the phone. It has no reality. "

  "I guess. "

  "The money has no reality. I cant relate to it. The number-"

  Skip brought me a bottle of Carlsberg and a bell-shaped glass. I sipped a little beer and frowned in what was supposed to be thought. Skip lit a cigarette, offered the pack to me, then said, "No, of course you dont want one, you dont smoke," and put the pack in his pocket.

  I said, "It shouldnt be a hijack. But theres one way it could be. "

  "Hows that?"

  "If they havent got the books. "

  "Of course they got the books. The books are gone and theres this voice on the phone. "

  "Suppose someone hasnt got the books, but knows that theyre missing. If he doesnt have to prove possession of them, hes got a chance to take a few dollars off you. "

  "A few dollars," John Kasabian said.

  Skip said, "Then whos got the books? The Feds? You mean they could have them all along and be preparing a case and in the meantime were paying ransom to somebody who hasnt got shit. " He stood up, walked around the desk. "I fuckin love it," he said. "I love it so much I want to marry it, I want to have babies with it. Jesus. "

  "Its just a possibility, but I think we have to guard against it. "

  "How? Everythings set for tomorrow. "

  "When he calls, you have him read a page from the books. "

  He stared at me. "You just thought of that? Just now? Nobody move. " Kasabian asked him where he was going. "To get two more of those Carlsbergs," he said. "The fucking beer stimulates thought. They should use it in their advertising. "

  * * *

  HE brought back two bottles. He sat on the edge of the desk with his feet swinging, sipping his beer straight from the brown bottle. Kasabian stayed in his chair and peeled the label from his bottle. He was in no hurry to drink it. We had our war council, making what plans we could. John and Skip were both coming along, and so of course was I.

  "And I was thinking Bobbyd come," Skip said.

  "Ruslander?"

  "Hes my best friend, he knows whats happening. I dont know if he could do much if the shit hit the fan, but who could? Im gonna be armed, but if its a trap I suppose theyll shoot first, so a lot of fucking good a guns gonna do me. You got anybody you want to bring in on this?"

  Kasabian shook his head. "I thought of my brother," he said. "First person I thought of, but what does Zeke need with this shit, you know?"

  "What does anybody need with it? Matt, you got anybody you want to bring?"

  "No. "

  "I was thinking maybe Billie Keegan," Skip said. "What do you think?"

  "Hes good company. "

  "Yeah, right. When you think about it, who the hell needs good company? What we need is heavy artillery and air support. Set up the meet and lay down a mortar barrage on their position. John, tell him about the spades with the mortar. "

  "Oh," Kasabian said.

  "Tell him. "

  "It was just something I saw. "

  "Something he saw. Listen to this. "

  "It was whenever it was, a month or so ago. I was at my girls house, shes on West End in the Eighties, Im supposed to walk her dog, and I come out of the building and diagonally across the street there are these three black guys. "

  "So he turns around and goes back in the building," Skip offered.

  "No, they didnt even look in my direction," Kasabian said. "Theyre wearing fatigue jackets, like, and ones got a cap. They look like soldiers. "

  "Tell him what they did. "

  "Well, its hard to believe I really saw this," he said. He took off his glasses, massaged the bridge of his nose. "They took a look around, and if they saw me they decided I was nothing to worry about-"

  "Shrewd judges of character," Skip put in.

  "- and they set up this mortar, like theyve done this drill a thousand times before, and one of them drops a shell in, and they lob a round into the Hudson, nice easy shot, theyre on the corner and they can see clear to the river, and we all like check it out, and they still dont pay any attention to me, and they nod to each other and strip the mortar down and pack it up and walk off together. "

  "Jesus," I said.

  "It happened so fast," he said, "and with so little fanfare, I wondered if I imagined it. But it happened. "

  "Did the round make a lot of noise?"

  "No, not a whole lot. There was the sort of whump! sound a mortar makes on firing, and if there was an explosion when the round hit the water I didnt hear it. "

  "Probably a blank," Skip said. "They were probably, you know, testing the firing mechanism, checking out the trajectory. "

  "Yeah, but for what?"

  "Well, shit," he said. "You never know when youre gonna need a mortar in this town. " He tipped up his beer bottle, drank deeply, and drummed his heels against the side of the desk. "I dont know," he said, "Im drinking this stuff but Im not thinking any better than before. Matt, lets talk about money. "

  I thought he was referring to the ransom. But he meant money for me, and I was at a loss. I didnt know how to set a price, said something about being a friend.

  He said, "So? This is what you do for a living, right? Do favors for friends?"

  "Sure, but-"

  "Youre doing us a favor. Kasabian and I dont know what the hell were doing. Am I right, John?"

  "Absolutely. "

  "Im not gonna give Bobby anything for coming, he wouldnt take it, and if Keegan comes along it wont be for the money. But youre a professional and a professional gets paid. Tillarys paying you, isnt he?"

  "Theres a difference. "

  "Whats the difference?"

  "Youre a friend of mine. "

  "And he isnt?"

  "Not in the same way. In fact I like him less and less. Hes-"

  "Hes an asshole," Skip said. "No argument. Makes no difference. " He opened a drawer in the desk, counted money, folded the bills, handed them to me. "Here," he said. "Thats twenty-five there. Tell me if its not enough. "

  "I dont know," I said slowly. "Twenty-five dollars doesnt seem like much, but-"

  "Its twenty-five hundred, you dumb fuck. " We all started laughing. " Twenty-five dollars doesnt seem like much. Johnny, why did we have to hire a comedian? Seriously, Matt, is it okay?"

  "Seriously, it seems a little high. "

  "You know what the ransom comes to?"

  I shook my head. "Everybodys been careful not to mention it. "

  "Well, you dont mention rope in the house of the hanged, do you? Were paying those cocksuckers fifty grand. "

  "Jesus Christ," I said.

  "His name came up already," Kasabian said. "He a friend of yours, by any chance? Bring him along tomorrow, hes got nothing else on for the evening. "

  Chapter 14

  I tried
to make it an early night. I went home and went to bed, and somewhere around four I knew I wasnt going to be able to sleep. There was enough bourbon on hand to knock myself out, but I didnt want that, either. I didnt want to be hung over when we dealt with the blackmailers.

  I got up and tried sitting around, but I couldnt sit still and there was nothing on television I was willing to watch. I got dressed and went out for a walk, and I was halfway there before I realized my feet were taking me to Morrisseys.

  One of the brothers was on the downstairs door. He gave me a bright smile and let me in. Upstairs, another brother sat on a stool opposite the door. His right hand was concealed beneath his white butchers apron, and I had been given to understand that there was a gun in it. I hadnt been to Morrisseys since Tim Pat had told me of the reward he and his brothers were offering, but Id heard that the brothers took turns at guard duty, and that anyone who walked in the door was facing a loaded weapon. Opinions differed on the sort of weapon; Id had various reports, ranging from revolver to automatic pistol to sawed-off shotgun. My thought was that youd have to be crazy to plan on using a shotgun, sawed-off or otherwise, in a roomful of your own customers, but no one had ever established the Morrisseys sanity.

  I walked in and looked around the room, and Tim Pat saw me and motioned to me, and I took a step toward him when Skip Devoe called my name from a table in the front near the blacked-out window. He was sitting with Bobby Ruslander. I held up a hand, indicating Id be with them in a minute, and Bobby put his hand to his mouth and a police whistle pierced the room, cutting off all conversation as cleanly as a gunshot. Skip and Bobby laughed, and the other drinkers realized the noise had been a joke, not an official raid, and, after a few people had assured Bobby he was an asshole, conversation resumed. I followed Tim Pat toward the rear of the room, where we stood on opposite sides of an empty table.

  "Weve not seen you here since we spoke," he said. "Do you bring me news?"

  I told him I didnt have any news to bring him. "I just came in for a drink," I said.

  "And youve heard nothing?"

  "Not a thing. I went around, I talked to some people. If there were anything in the air I would have had word back by now. I think it must be some kind of Irish thing, Tim Pat. "

  "An Irish thing. "

  "Political," I said.

  "Then we should have heard tell of it. Some braggart would have let a word slip. " His fingertips caressed his beard. "They knew right where to go for the money," he mused. "And they even took the few dollars from the Norad jar. "

  "Thats why I thought-"

  "If it was Proddies we should have heard tell. Or if it was a faction of our own. " He smiled without humor. "We have our factional disagreements, dont you know. The Cause has more than one voice speakin for it. "

  "So Ive heard. "

  "If it were an Irish thing, " he said, pronouncing the phrase deliberately, "there would be other incidents. But theres been only the one. "