“That’s right, Frank.”
That was malarkey from away back! He had the guy since last night, and I saw him just this morning. If he wanted to level he had plenty of time to do it. I stood there silently.
He began to shift a little. His eyes wandered around the room.
I just kept looking at him. Suddenly I did something I had wanted to do for weeks. I reversed the gat in my hands and swiped him across the face with it. He went down to his hands and knees, his hands fumbling in the armpits of his coat.
I waited until he got his gun in his hand before I kicked it out. He was looking up at me, his face white. I ignored him and walked over and picked up his gun and dropped it in my pocket.
I walked around the table and sat down in the chair and looked over at Taylor and Riordan. “How do you two figure on this?”
Taylor answered. “We don’t know anything about it, Frank. Silk just told us he had something for us to see.”
I looked at them. They seemed to be straight enough. “Sit down,” I said, waving my gun at them. “We got things to talk about.”
They sat down. I looked down at Silk. He was still on the floor. “You too!” I said.
He got off the floor and sat down in a chair.
Flix was standing behind Fennelli. I looked at the two of them. “Flix was going to tell me something when you boys came in.”
Flix didn’t talk.
I leaned forward and stared at him. “I told you I knew who knocked off your kid sister. Only one other person besides you and myself knew about what happened that night you set me up for the frame. That was Fennelli. I went to his place right after it happened and told him the story. He promised to keep an eye open for the gees that did it.” I paused for a moment. “I don’t have to tell any more, do I?”
Flix stared at me savagely. His eyes were smoldering yellowishly in the light. Suddenly he reached down and placed his hands around Fennelli’s neck and began to choke him.
Silk’s hands struggled vainly trying to pry Flix’s fingers from his throat. I sat there quietly watching. Silk’s face turned red, and as his struggles lessened, his face began to turn blue.
I decided Flix had gone far enough. I didn’t want him to kill the guy, just educate him a little. “O.K., Flix,” I said, “that’s enough.”
Flix kept right on with his job.
I raised the gun and pointed it at Flix’s face. “I said enough, Flix.” I spoke gently.
Flix dropped his hands and stood there tensely. Silk slumped forward on the table: he was out cold.
I spoke to Taylor. “Get Silk some water.”
Taylor got up and went around to a water cooler, took a little paper cup from the rack and brought it over to Silk. He stood there looking foolishly at me.
I looked at Taylor and grinned. I got out of my seat and went over to the cooler. I hoisted the whole water cooler out of the cabinet and went over to Silk and dumped half of it on him.
He came to when the water hit him. He made some unintelligible noises with his mouth, but his throat was too sore for him to speak. His clothes were dripping wet but he was sitting up.
I put the water bottle on the floor beside me and spoke quietly. “I want you boys to listen carefully. I gave Moishe the O.K. to quit. When you guys reach his age, which you won’t if you don’t play it straight with me, you can quit too. It’ll be your privilege then. Until that time just remember who’s boss.”
I looked at them. They didn’t answer. I spoke again. “Now beat it and take Silk with yuh and get him to a doctor. I don’t want him catchin’ cold or anything.”
The punk that had been with Flix was the first out the door. The others followed a few seconds later—that is, all except Flix.
He stood there watching me.
“What do you want?” I asked.
He smiled suddenly. There wasn’t much warmth in it, but there was respect.
“You’re a hard guy,” he said.
“Hard guys come a dime a dozen.” I answered.
“Not the way you come,” he said.
I looked at him. He was fishing for something—I wondered what. I didn’t answer. If he wanted something let him ask.
He did. “I’m lookin’ for opportunity,” he said.
I tossed his gun across the table to him. He caught it and slipped it into his pocket and watched me.
I was thinking rapidly. The time had come for me to put a guy like that to good use. There were too many things going on to be smart about. I spoke slowly. “I need a guy who doesn’t blow his topper in a corner, who doesn’t let personal things affect his action.”
“I’m a worker,” he said, “not a hophead. I do what I’m told; that’s my stock in trade.”
I began to smile. This would give Silk something to think about. “You got a job,” I said.
For two centuries a week I had me a bodyguard.
76
The next morning I called Joe Price. When he answered the phone I began talking. “Look, Joe,” I said, “I was all snarled up when you called yesterday, and want you to go over that deal you were telling me about.”
He repeated the proposition.
I listened carefully. It sounded all right to me. “Do you have to be around there for a while?” I asked.
“I should be,” he answered. “Why, is anything wrong?”
“No,” I said, “but there’s something I want you to do, and I’d like you to get back here right away.”
“I’ll be in on Sunday,” he answered. Good boy! He didn’t ask questions.
“O.K.,” I told him. “Come up to the hotel as soon as you get in.” I put the phone down and pressed the buzzer.
Miss Walsh answered.
“Send Powell in,” I said.
Flix came in the door. It was the first time he had ever been in the office. He looked around, and I could see he was impressed with the layout. I told him to sit down.
I grinned at him, “How’r yuh feelin’?”
His face was a little swollen, but he smiled back at me. “Not too bad.”
He sat back quietly while I told him what I wanted. From now on everyone that was going to see me would have to see him first, at the office and at the house. I arranged with the hotel to give him the room next to my apartment and to send everyone up to him first, even after checking with me. At the office he would sit at a desk in Miss Walsh’s office, which was right outside my door.
When I finished I asked him if he had any questions. He had none so I sent him out. I leaned back in my chair for a moment thinking. If I knew Silk his next try would be to knock me off. There wouldn’t be anything half-assed about it either. The only way for me to keep alive was to be one step ahead of him—or have him bumped. And I didn’t want to do that. I had much better plans for the son-of-a-bitch.
I leaned forward and dialed Ruth’s number on the private phone.
She answered: “Hello.”
“Hello, darling,” I replied.
“I had to call you,” I said quickly. “I wanted to hear your voice.”
Her laugh came rippling over the phone, “I wanted to speak to you too. I wanted you to repeat what you said last night. I just can’t believe you mean it.”
“I mean it, baby,” I said. “I love you. Did you get my flowers?” I had sent her a corsage of orchids that morning.
“Yes,” she answered. “They were lovely.”
A few more words and we hung up. I felt good and pitched into the work on my desk, humming.
That evening I went over to see her. I imagine Flix got pretty cold waiting downstairs in the car for me until two o’clock in the morning, but he didn’t say anything when I finally showed up.
Sunday morning at eleven Joe Price showed up. He looked at me questioningly when he first saw Flix. I told Flix I didn’t need him, and when he left the room I brought Price up to date on what had happened.
He whistled. “I see what you meant when you said you were all tied up. What do you wan
t me to do?”
I let him have both barrels. “I want to pull out. This isn’t going to last much longer, and I have other plans. Do you think you could rig the books and records so that my name comes off everything except the door?”
He thought for a moment, then he nodded.
“How long would it take?”
“A few weeks of night and day work,” he answered. “But we’d have to set somebody else’s name up on it or it wouldn’t look kosher.”
“I got that all figured,” I said. “We’ll use Fennelli.”
“I don’t get it.” He was puzzled. “How does Fennelli figure in on this? I thought he was out to get you.”
“He still is.” I smiled. “But he wants the business too. Well, I’m going to give it to him. Only he doesn’t know it yet.”
“O.K.,” he said. “It’s a little too much for me to follow, but I’ll do it. When do you want me to start?”
“Today,” I said, “after we eat breakfast.”
I dropped Joe Price off at the office to give him a chance to look things over. Then I drove over to Ruth’s place and picked her up.
“How about a drive in the country?” I suggested.
She nodded and went for her hat and coat. I wondered what she would say when she saw Flix. I would have to explain that to her without worrying her too much. But we spent a swell day anyway.
We drove up to Bear Mountain and had dinner at the inn, strolled around the place, then drove leisurely back to town.
It was June 10th before Joe came into my office rubbing his hands with obvious satisfaction. I looked up at him. “Well,” I asked, “how’s it going?”
He smiled down at me. “It’s finished, all done.”
“Good!” I said. “Now hop a plane out to the plant and get busy out there. I want you to buy a house for me and have it furnished by the beginning of next month. I’m going to move in then.”
“Christ, Frankie,” he said, “a thing like that takes more time than doctoring a set of books!”
“Get the best interior decorator in the section on the job. The house doesn’t have to be too large; about six rooms will be enough. Pay whatever you think necessary to have it done. Get someone out there on the job and be back here by the day after tomorrow. I’ll need you.”
“O.K., Frank,” he said, starting for the door. “But don’t you want to look at the books before I go?”
I got out of my seat and walked around toward him. “Do I have to?” I asked. “The less I know about them the better right now. Besides, I don’t know a damn thing about them, if you say they’re O.K., they’re O.K.”
“I did what you wanted,” he said.
“That’s good enough for me.” I smiled. “No—on your way, pal! There’s no time to lose. I got to get busy.”
I turned and went back to the desk. Joe was at the door now and I looked over at him. “Thanks, Joe,” I said.
He smiled and went out.
I picked up the phone and called Jerry Cowan.
77
After my call went through about two secretaries, Jerry finally got on the phone.
“Jerry,” I said, “this is Frank Kane. Are you free this afternoon? I want to see you.”
“Come over here,” he answered.
“I can’t go to your office, but this is important and I want to see you alone.”
“Where can we meet?” he asked.
“I’ll pick you up on the Jersey side of the George Washington Bridge at four o’clock this afternoon. Plan to have dinner with me because what I’ve got to say will take a little time.”
He was silent for a moment, then: “O.K., four o’clock.”
I left the office at three. I told Flix to go back to the apartment and wait there for me. Then I drove up to meet Jerry.
I was there a few minutes before four, and I waited around. At four o’clock promptly I saw Jerry. He was driving a blue Buick sedan. I watched him park the car and look around for me. He didn’t see me. I honked the horn to attract his attention.
He looked over at me and smiled and waved his hand. I made a gesture with my hand that meant: “Come on.” I started off, glancing into the rear mirror to make sure he was following me. He was.
About a mile down the highway I turned off onto a small road that ran down to Teaneck. I stopped in front of a parking lot. Jerry’s car stopped behind me, and I got out of my car and walked over to him.
We shook hands. I smiled. “How are you?”
“Fine,” he said.
“And Janet?” I asked.
“She’s O.K. now,” he replied, “but it was tough on the girl losing the baby and then the doctor telling her she couldn’t have any more.”
This was news to me. I hadn’t known anything about that. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”
“Well, it’s over now,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”
I smiled. He was in a hurry but he was going to have to wait. I would talk to him in my own time and in my own way. “Park your car here,” I told him, “and get in mine. We’ll go somewhere where we can eat and talk.”
An hour later we were at a small inn on Route 9 in a small private dining room. We had Scotch old-fashioned in front of us, and I lit a cigarette. I looked over at him. “I suppose you’re wondering why the sudden rush act.”
He nodded, not talking.
I went on. “Just how bad do you want me?” I asked.
“Getting you is my job,” he answered simply.
Good! That was what I expected to hear. “If you busted up the racket wouldn’t that be enough?” I smiled. “Getting me personally won’t stop the organization, but I might make a deal with you. I’ll set up the racket so that you can break it up when I go. I’ll even give you a patsy: one with a record, one that you’ve been after longer than you’ve been after me.”
He lifted his drink to his lips and sipped it slowly. He squared right off. “What do you want to pull out for? You know I haven’t anything on you—yet.”
I squared with him. “I’m going to get married,” I told him, “and my future wife doesn’t approve.”
He laughed at that. “Don’t tell me a woman is going to do what all the city, state and Federal governments can’t!”
I nodded ruefully. “It looks that way.”
He was grinning now. “More power to her!” he said, shaking his head a little. “Anyone I know?”
I looked him right in the eye. “It’s Ruth,” I said simply.
He almost fell out of his chair. “Ruth!” he said surprisedly. “How long has this been going on?”
“Long time now.” I smiled.
The waiter came in with the appetizer. We were silent until he left the room. Then Jerry spoke again. “I’d like to do something for you, more for Ruth than anyone else, but I don’t see how I can accede. After all, I still have a job to do.”
“Suit yourself,” I said, “but there are more things to this that have to be clarified.” I speared a clam on my fork and waved it at him. “You see, if you nail me you’ll nail your old man at the same time. His law firm is handling several important matters for me.”
Jerry put down his clam fork and looked at me. He was getting a little angry at that crack. “I don’t believe it,” he stated flatly.
“Believe it or not,” I replied. “I know what I’m talking about.”
“Dad would never take on a case from you.”
“I didn’t say he would,” I retorted, “but he has, or rather his firm has. And that wouldn’t look too good on the front pages of the papers, would it?”
Jerry didn’t answer that. I could see him thinking it over.
I threw another few logs on the fire. “Look, Jerry, let’s not be kids about this. We’re grown-up now, and this is business—serious business. Just supposing there comes a time that you finally get enough on me to make a case out of. Supposing when that time comes somebody drags your old man’s name into it. Supposing somebody says maybe that�
�s the reason you didn’t get me a long time ago: because I was paying off to your old man. You don’t know the things people will say—or think.”
He got out of his chair and walked around the table toward me. He grabbed me by the collar and held me. “If you have any intention of throwing mud at my father and covering him with your filthy slime, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”
I sat there quietly looking up at him. Then I raised my hands and disengaged his from my lapel. “Homicide’s as much against the law here in Jersey as it is in New York.”
He looked at me for a moment without speaking.
I didn’t give him a chance to talk anyway. “Look, Jerry, I’m not threatening your father. I’m trying to point out all the things that people might say. And there’s no way of stopping them I know. They say a lot about me that’s so much bull, and yet I can’t do anything about it.” I smiled at him. “Go back and sit down, finish your dinner. When you hear the rest of my plan—who knows?—maybe you’ll agree.”
He went heavily back to his chair and sat down. He was quiet all through dinner. He didn’t have much of an appetite: just picked at his food and listened. But when we went back for his car he had agreed to do what I asked.
I got out of my car and walked over to his and put one foot on the running board. I gave him a chance to save a little face.
He clambered in behind the wheel and sat there, his mouth set grimly.
“After all, Jerry,” I said in a low earnest tone, “you are doing the job they gave you. You are busting up the racket. Even if it ain’t according to Hoyle, the important thing is that you are doing it.”
He looked over at me and smiled wanly. He was too discouraged even to pick up the lead. His voice was heavy and dull. “I guess so.”
“You don’t have to guess,” I said positively. “You know it. You yourself once suggested the same thing. And it’s results that count.”
He stepped on the starter, the motor burst into life. He was about to start off when suddenly he turned and looked at me. “Frank,” he said.
“Yes, Jerry?”
“You haven’t changed a bit since you were a kid. But don’t think you can get away with it all the time. Life has a funny way of catching up and paying off.”
Harold Robbins Organized Crime Double Page 45