Act of Fear

by Michael Collins

  ‘Listen, Jake,’ I called out.

  I had just heard the first faint police sirens. Roth stood out in the clear. He held a revolver.

  ‘It’s over, Jake,’ I called out.

  ‘I’ll get you, Fortune,’ Roth said.

  He was standing there to draw a shot. I did not fall for the invitation. It would expose me, and Jake Roth was a crack shot.

  ‘No you won’t,’ I said. ‘Not now, and not later. We’ve got your two boys, and they’ll talk. Olsen’s got the ticket safe. We won’t show ourselves. Run, Jake.’

  Roth stood there. He seemed undecided. If I could keep him talking, maybe the police would arrive in time. I was not sure that that would be a favour to the cops. Roth would get someone.

  ‘All you had to do was sit tight, Jake,’ I called out into that bright sunlight. ‘It was a thousand-to-one against Andy finding out. You blew it, Jake. You panicked.’

  Roth said nothing. I could see the cords of his jaw muscles. He was trying to decide if he could rush us. He was still hoping we would expose ourselves. A man like Roth always thinks he will somehow handle it all and come out smelling sweet. Maybe he hoped we would fail to watch his two boys inside with us or get careless some other way.

  ‘All you had to do was trust Jo-Jo, leave him alone,’ I called out to Roth. ‘You had to be sure. Just like the girl, right? You couldn’t trust her either, right? Did she know something? Did she say she’d tell Andy? Did she scare you, Jake?’

  But I knew the answer, of course. Fear. The answer to all of it in the end. Roth had lived so long by the gun and fear that he could only act one way. He was too afraid of Pappas. He had to be sure. A violent animal who could think of only one way to be safe – to kill anyone who could harm him. The twisted mind. The mind of all killers. They kill to be safe from some danger that, in the end, was not half as dangerous as a murder charge. They kill and complicate the simple and so defeat themselves.

  ‘I’ll get you, Fortune,’ Roth said, out there in the sun. ‘I’ll get you, and the kid. Just like I got the others. You’re dead!’

  The sirens were close. It was his parting shot. It did not worry me. Roth was going to be too busy to come for me or Jo-Jo. But he had scared me, and he had beaten me, and I’m human. I could not resist a parting word.

  ‘Run, Jake,’ I called out into the sunny open space. ‘Run fast, Jake.’

  I saw Jo-Jo move. He was raising up to take a shot at Roth as the skinny killer got into the grey car.

  ‘No!’ I said. ‘Let him go, Jo-Jo. You couldn’t hit him now anyway. He can still get us if we try. Even if you hit him, he’ll get some of those cops who don’t even know he’s here. Let him run. There’ll be a better chance.’

  We watched the grey car drive out of the yard and turn north on the highway. The police arrived a few minutes later. People came out of the other cabins. They were very excited. It was all quite an event. The police took us and the two hoods, who were just scared amateurs now. We told our story in the safety of a good strong cell just in case Roth had ideas of one last-gasp attempt. Jo-Jo gave them the locker key to pick up the parking ticket from the locker where he had hidden it. Then the cops took us to the airport and we flew north with a lot of friendly guards.

  Captain Gazzo welcomed us with open arms and a secure paddy wagon. At headquarters Gazzo called in Andy Pappas to identify the licence number on the ticket and to give any information Pappas could in the light of the evidence. Pappas looked at that parking ticket for a long time. Andy was as dapper as ever, but he was pale; and he came alone.

  ‘It’s my small Mercury convertible,’ Pappas said. ‘It was down in Jersey. Jake was alone down there. You say Jake used it the day Tani … was killed?’

  ‘He got it back before you returned from Washington,’ Gazzo said. The captain was trying to be civil to Pappas. It was not easy for him. ‘Fortune’s got the whole story.’

  I told Andy the story as I knew it. His face darkened when I got to the part about the Olsens. His cold eyes looked at Jo-Jo. When I told him about Roth working me over, he nodded.

  ‘I never ordered that,’ Pappas said.

  ‘We found a losing stub from Monmouth in her place,’ Gazzo said.

  ‘Yeh,’ Pappas said slowly. ‘Jake was at Monmouth the day before. I remember.’

  ‘His two hired hands are singing anyway,’ Gazzo said. ‘The whole story, as much as they know of it.’

  ‘Yeh,’ Pappas said. He stared at the parking ticket. He licked his dry lips. ‘Do you know what … I mean, what happened? In her place?’

  ‘You mean why did he kill her?’ I said. ‘His two boys say that he told her some big plan he had. He shot his mouth off, that’s the way the two hoods put it, and then he had to cool her.’

  ‘Plans?’ Pappas said, his dead eyes narrowed to slits.

  ‘Plans against you, Pappas,’ Gazzo said. ‘It looks like Jake was making a play for Tani, and to show her what a big man he was he told her some plans he had.’

  ‘He didn’t go to kill her,’ I said. ‘He went to play games with her. But he made a mistake, and he had to silence her.’

  ‘Jake and Tani?’ Pappas said. ‘Yeh. She was just a poor dumb kid who liked men. I guess she just had to play around. But you know something? The kid loved me. Yeh, she did.’

  ‘I know,’ I said. ‘That’s what killed her.’

  I could picture the scene that afternoon. Jake Roth, alone with Tani, encouraged by her, and for one arrogant instant sure that she would prefer him to Pappas. After all, he was younger, and in his own mind a better man. He was sure she would choose him, but with a faint doubt, a small need to impress. So he told her of some plans, his big schemes. Probably a boast that he would soon be the boss. Then, a moment later, aware of his error. Maybe he saw it in her eyes. The shock, the horror she was too naive to hide. In that one instant Roth must have seen the truth: that he was only a momentary little excitement to Tani, and that Pappas was the big thing, the important man to her. Maybe Tani did not know who Pappas really was, or care, but she knew a threat to her man when she heard one. Jake Roth saw that, realized his mistake, and acted in the only way Roth could act. He shot her.

  ‘He shot her then and there, Andy,’ I said, ‘but you killed her. Fear of you, Andy, that’s what killed Tani. She was your woman, and Jake knew he couldn’t risk leaving her alive a minute.’

  I clubbed him with those words, but I felt almost sorry for him then. All at once he was just another middle-aged man who had lost his sweetheart. It did not matter that he had had little right to have a sweetheart. All men need some love in their lives, and what did I know about his home life? I felt almost sorry. But only almost. Because he was not just another middle-aged man. He was Andy Pappas, and he had some pain coming to him. So I clubbed him with words. Not that it did any good.

  ‘You did good, Danny,’ Pappas said, as if he had not heard me. ‘I’ll send you a cheque even if you didn’t do the job for me. That kid, too. The one who was beaten up.’

  ‘No cheque,’ I said. ‘Not for me. I made that choice a long time ago, Andy. What you touch dies.’

  ‘Suit yourself,’ Andy said.

  ‘You killed her as sure as if you’d pulled that trigger yourself,’ I said.

  Pappas began to pull on those white gloves he affects now. He still did not hear me. He never hears or sees what he does not want to hear or see. He smoothed the fingers of the gloves. He looked at Gazzo.

  ‘Is that all, Captain?’

  ‘That’s all,’ Gazzo said. ‘Unless you want to tell us what Roth thought he was going to take over.’

  Pappas smiled a thin smile. He nodded to me and went out of the office. As he went I saw his hand smooth his suit coat at the place where he used to carry his gun under the coat. Gazzo saw that, too. There was a look of sudden hope in Gazzo’s eyes. The captain was thinking that maybe Andy would slip this time, kill Roth himself, get caught. I doubted that. There would probably be a small purge of anyone Pappa
s learned had been associated with Jake Roth in his plans, but Pappas would not be personally involved. How far could true love make a man stupid?

  In the interrogation room the two hoods sang like eager tenors. They told all about what Jake had done and what he had hired them to do.

  ‘We was to get the ticket and kill Olsen. The old man was just lousy luck. We asked some questions, and he kicked off on us.

  They looked at us as if it was somehow old Schmidt’s fault that he had died. It was unfair to them that he had died. Anyone could see that. They seemed to think that this explanation made it all okay, that we should kiss and make up.

  ‘Roth was gonna give us good spots when he took over,’ the muscle-boy explained. ‘I mean, it was our chance, you know? The big break. We’d of been right on top with the boss.’

  The thin one shrugged. ‘Maybe he wasn’t so smart. I mean, spilling to that Jones kid was a dumb play. Yeh, real dumb.’

  Jake Roth made a dumb mistake. Now people were dead.

  ‘What about Nancy Driscoll?’ I said.

  The muscle boy shook his head. ‘We don’t know no Driscoll, like we told the cap’n. I guess Jake handled her himself, like he done with you, peeper.’

  ‘How did you know where Olsen was?’ I asked.

  ‘Jake told us,’ the thin one said. ‘Only he didn’t do so good about that, neither. We got down there way ahead of you, Fortune, except he had us out in that dirt town Flamingo. We turned that cycle track upside down, ‘n then we looked all over Spanish Beach before Jake says to try the speedway.’

  ‘And you have nothing to tell us about Nancy Driscoll?’ Gazzo said.

  ‘No sir, Cap’n, nothin’,’ the thin one said.

  After we gave Gazzo all we could about Roth, Jo-Jo and I walked out into the morning. We had been at it all night. Gazzo had the manhunt underway. The day was going to be hot and stifling in the city. Jo-Jo did not seem to want to go home. I suggested he take a hotel room. I’d lend him the money even if I had to borrow it from Marty or Joe.

  ‘Thanks, Mr Fortune,’ Jo-Jo said.

  He had removed his moustache by now, and taken off the dark glasses. He stood in the city morning and looked up and down the street as if not quite sure that it was all over and not quite sure of what to do next. That is one of the problems of choosing to go your own way. For a long time it seems like you have nothing much to do, because you are so accustomed to doing what other people want you to do. Jo-Jo was missing all the sense of purpose of the last week when he was running and hiding for the sake of his family.

  ‘Only let’s go and call on Petey first,’ I said. ‘I owe my client a report, after all.’

  Jo-Jo shrugged. We caught a taxi and rode in the growing heat and glare of the morning towards St Vincent’s. Jo-Jo was not talkative. I suppose he was thinking of his new life. It takes time to adjust to facing yourself, to throw off a whole set of preconceived notions.

  In a way I was doing the same thing. I was thinking of Pete Vitanza, and adjusting to my thoughts.

  Chapter 19

  In the taxi I opened the window to get the air on my face.

  ‘You sent Pete a note too, didn’t you?’ I said. ‘When I first showed at the motel you thought that Pete had told me you were in Spanish Beach.’

  Jo-Jo nodded. ‘Yeh, I sent him a note. Him and Anna.’

  ‘But you didn’t mention cars or your job,’ I said, ‘and you probably didn’t mail it right in Spanish Beach.’

  ‘I just said the weather was fine. I figured he’d know I meant I was okay,’ Jo-Jo explained. ‘I guess I mailed it the night I went over to the bike races in Flamingo.’

  ‘That was lucky,’ I said.

  ‘Lucky?’ Jo-Jo said.

  ‘Someone told Roth you were in, or near, Spanish Beach,’ I said. ‘He looked in Flamingo first, and then he looked around the town for a while because he figured you’d never go near the speedway. He was too damned clever for his own good.’

  Jo-Jo blinked at me. ‘But Pete hired you.’

  ‘Yeh,’ I said. ‘He hired me’

  At the hospital they did not want to let us see Pete at first. I told them that it was police business and important. The police still had a man at the door of Pete’s room. The officer knew me and my connection to the case and let us go in.

  Pete lay in bed. He was still weak, but the bandages were off his face. He struggled to sit up as we came in. I saw him bite his lip in pain. His face was scarred with raw wounds, and his arms were still splinted and bandaged; but he grinned to Jo-Jo.

  ‘Hello, buddy,’ Pete said. And said to me, ‘Thanks, Mr Fortune.’

  ‘I came to report to my client,’ I said.

  ‘So report,’ Pete said, and winked at Jo-Jo.

  I told the story. Pete listened closely. The white room was bright with the morning sun. Jo-Jo stood away from the bed. When I told Pete about the final part with the two hoodlums and Jake Roth, Pete’s face seemed to darken under the scars and bruises.

  ‘I hope they burn!’ Pete said. ‘Roth got away though, huh?’

  ‘They’ll get him,’ I said. ‘But probably not alive.’

  Pete agreed. ‘He won’t get took alive.’

  ‘I was lucky to get to Jo-Jo first,’ I said.

  ‘Lucky as hell for Jo-Jo,’ Pete said. ‘Right, buddy?’

  Jo-Jo nodded from across the room. ‘Real lucky, Pete.’

  ‘Mr Fortune, he knows his job,’ Pete said. ‘I hired the right man, all right.’

  There was a silence in the room. Pete grinned at both of us. Jo-Jo had picked up a metal water jug and was examining it. I had a good view out the window from where I stood at the bed. I could not look at the view forever.

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me about the note Jo-Jo wrote to you, Pete?’ I said. ‘I guess the nurse read it to you, right?’

  Pete nodded. ‘Yeh, I remembered soon as you left, you know? Stupid. It was when you told me about old Schmidt and talked about movin’ that car. I just forgot the note, damn.’

  ‘No,’ I said, ‘you didn’t forget.’

  Pete’s eyes were like two shallow puddles with a dark film of ice on them. The bruises and scars on his face seemed to stand out. The muscles of his jaw twitched.

  ‘Roth knew that Jo-Jo was around Spanish Beach, Pete,’ I said. ‘He knew before I did. Wild horses wouldn’t have dragged it out of Anna, and if she had told Roth, she wouldn’t then have told me.’

  Pete said nothing. He looked at Jo-Jo.

  ‘There’s only one way Roth could have known about Spanish Beach, Pete,’ I said.

  Pete nodded. His dark eyes flickered away from Jo-Jo and from me. He looked at the wall. Then he looked back at Jo-Jo. He looked straight at Jo-Jo as if he had gathered courage.

  ‘He came here, Roth did,’ Pete said. ‘He was gonna beat me again. I couldn’t take any more. I’m sorry, buddy.’

  ‘No,’ I said.

  Now Pete looked at me. For the first time I saw something move under the flat surface of his eyes.

  ‘What?’ Pete said. ‘What?’

  ‘He didn’t beat it out of you, Pete. He didn’t even try to. How could he do that here? And how would he have known Jo-Jo had written to you? No, you called him, Petey. You told him on your own. Why?’

  ‘I don’t know how he found out about the note, but he did! Okay, maybe I got too scared too easy, but if you got beat as bad … hell, I hired you, Mr Fortune.’

  ‘Yeh,’ I said, ‘you hired me. But not to find Jo-Jo, Pete. Not to find him. It was a little strange all along. I mean, that you would come to me. You knew Jo-Jo was in trouble.’

  Jo-Jo spoke. He still held the water jug. ‘I told you I had trouble.’

  ‘Sure,’ Pete said, ‘but you never said you was gonna run! You never said what trouble!’

  ‘You knew I had trouble,’ Jo-Jo said. ‘You knew I was on the run.’

  I took it up. ‘By all the normal rules, Pete, you should have minded your own business, right? If J
o-Jo had trouble and you guessed it was connected to Stettin like you said, you should have been quiet as a tomb. That is, if you wanted to help Jo-Jo. But you came to me. I figure you’d even guessed about Tani Jones. I figure you even knew it was Roth after Jo-Jo all along. But you came to me even though you knew that when I started looking it would cause Jo-Jo more trouble.’

  ‘I wanted you to find him, help him! Is that so bad? How would I know it was gonna work out bad? Hell, you did save him, didn’t you? It worked out okay!’

  ‘Sure, it worked out fine, but not for you,’ I said. ‘You hired me to make trouble, Pete, not to stop it.’

  Pete said nothing. The hospital room was very sunny now, and hot. Jo-Jo had put down the metal water jug and was watching Pete. Pete just sat there propped up. I suppose he was still weak. Or maybe just tired. I suppose he had been thinking about all of this ever since he had heard that Jo-Jo was safe and Roth was on the run instead.

  ‘Jo-Jo,’ I said, ‘where’s your miniature Ferrari good-luck piece?’

  ‘My Ferrari?’ Jo-Jo said. He took out his key ring. ‘Right here, why?’

  I took the good-luck charm and held it up in front of Pete Vitanza. Petey just stared at it, those dark eyes as flat and opaque as mud. The charm, Jo-Jo’s good-luck piece, was dull and battered and scratched as it would have to have been if carried for long in his pocket with his keys. It was exactly like the charm Gazzo had found under Nancy Driscoll’s body.

  ‘Let’s see your charm again, Pete,’ I said.

  Pete did not move.

  ‘Never mind,’ I said. ‘I remember it. It was new and shiny, Pete, wasn’t it? The miniature you showed me was new. Jo-Jo, when did Petey buy his charm?’ ‘When I did,’ Jo-Jo said.

  ‘So I bought a new one,’ Petey said. ‘I lost mine, yeh.’ ‘Sure,’ I said. ‘You lost it all right.’