Memories of Another Day

by Harold Robbins

  “What are you talking about?” the blond man asked.

  “Look back,” Daniel said. “The blue Dodge sedan with government plates. F.B.I. They’ve been tailing me for weeks.”

  The blond man looked at him, then at the driver. “Lose them.”

  “I wouldn’t do that either,” Daniel said. “They’ve already got your plate number. The minute they don’t see you, they’ll put out an All Points.”

  The blond man looked worried.

  “I think you better get to a phone and let Mr. Lansky know what’s happening,” Daniel said.

  “Okay, hold it,” the blond man said quickly. “Pull over to the drugstore on the corner.”

  As the car came to a stop, he got out of the car. “Wait here with him,” he told the man sitting next to Daniel, then went into the store. He was out in a few minutes and got back into the car.

  He looked uncomfortably at Daniel. “Mr. Lansky says for us to take you home.”

  “That’s more intelligent,” Daniel said as the car moved out into traffic again.

  “He says he will call you later tonight.”

  “I’ll be in,” Daniel said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the car came to a stop in front of Daniel’s house. Daniel got out. He turned back to the blond man. “Thanks for the lift.”

  The blond man scowled silently.

  Daniel smiled. He didn’t seem to move, but suddenly the gun was in his hand and he pushed it into the blond man’s face. “The next time you come for me,” Daniel said softly, still smiling, “you’d better come shooting. Because the minute I see your face I’m going to blow your head off. Tell Mr. Lansky that for me.”

  The gun disappeared from his hand as he slammed the door shut and, turning his back on them, walked up the path to his front door. By the time he went inside, the car was gone.

  The telephone began to ring as they sat down to dinner. Mamie answered it. “They’s a Mr. Miami on the telephone for you.”

  Daniel looked up at her. “Tell him I’m just sitting down to dinner, to call me back in an hour.”

  Margaret looked at him. “Who’s Mr. Miami?”

  Daniel cut a piece of his steak. “Lansky.”

  “Why doesn’t he use his real name?”

  Daniel shrugged.

  “What does he want?”

  Daniel glanced up. “His pound of flesh.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said in a puzzled voice.

  “He’s probably heard by now we’re starting a mutual fund,” he explained. “He figures he’s entitled to a piece of it.”

  “Is he?” she asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, that settles it,” she said. “You’ll just tell him.”

  Daniel controlled his smile. “He’s not the easiest man in the world to say no to.”

  Margaret was silent for a moment. “Daniel, you’re not in any kind of trouble, are you?”

  “No.”

  “I’ve read about this Mr. Lansky in the papers,” she said. “He’s a gangster, isn’t he?”

  “That’s what they say.”

  “Then why are you doing business with him?”

  “My business is legitimate. Whatever else he does is none of my business.”

  “I wouldn’t do any more business with him if I were you,” she said.

  He smiled at her. “I don’t intend to.” He finished his steak and pushed it away from him. “That was good.”

  She got heavily to her feet. “Go into the living room and put your feet up. I’ll bring you the coffee.”

  She leaned over him, picking up his plate. He patted her belly. “Won’t be long now.”

  “Eight weeks, the doctor said.”

  “Watching your weight?” he asked.

  “I haven’t gained an ounce this last month.”

  “Good,” he said. He went to the sideboard and took out a bottle of bourbon and a glass. “Bring some cold water with you,” he said as he walked into the living room.

  He sat in the chair, the half-empty whiskey glass in his hand, while she put the coffee on the cocktail table in front of him. “I’m starting a series of meetings around the country next week.”

  She was surprised. “What’s that all about?”

  “I have to sell the mutual fund to the different unions and locals.”

  “Do you have to do that? Couldn’t Moses or Jack?”

  “I have to do it,” he said. “I’m the only one they’ll come out for.”

  “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’ll be in and out,” he said. “I’m working out the schedule so that I’ll be here when the baby comes.”

  Suddenly she was angry. “That’s real nice of you,” she said sarcastically.

  “What’s eating you?” he asked. “I told you I’d be here when the baby comes.”

  “And what am I supposed to do when you’re out on the road having all those meetings? Sit here waiting, holding my belly in my hands?”

  “This is business,” he snapped. “Stop acting like a child.”

  “I may be only seventeen, but I’m not acting like a child,” she said in a hurt voice. “I’m acting like a woman who is going to have a baby and wants her husband to be near her.”

  He looked at her without speaking for a moment. He had almost forgotten. Seventeen. He was fifty-six. There was a long spread of years between them, and maybe there would never be a way to build a bridge across time. He reached for her hand. “I’m sorry, Margaret,” he said slowly. “I wouldn’t do this if there were anyone else who could do it. But it’s my job.”

  The telephone began to ring. She withdrew her hand from his grip. “That’s your friend Mr. Miami Lansky Gangster, whoever the hell he is,” she said coldly. “You better go answer it. There’s nobody else to speak to him.”

  Chapter 12

  Lansky’s voice was guarded. “Do you remember where we met the last time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think you can get there without being followed?”

  “I can try. If I can’t shake them I won’t show up.”

  “I have to see you,” Lansky said.

  “Will you be there for long?”

  “Two hours.”

  “Okay.”

  “If you don’t make it, call me tomorrow morning in Florida. Use a pay phone.”

  “Okay.”

  Daniel put down the telephone and walked back into the living room. “I have to go out,” he said.

  Margaret looked at him. “I’m afraid.”

  “Don’t be,” he said. “It’s just business.” He walked to the window and looked out. It was already dark outside, but the blue sedan was still there, parked under a streetlight. He didn’t understand that. Apparently they wanted him to know he was under surveillance; otherwise they would have taken pains to park the car where he would not see it. It was more as if they were trying to frighten him than anything else.

  The telephone rang again. It was Hoffa, calling from Detroit. “You were right about your tip,” he said. “I got my first visit from the McClellan committee today.”

  “What did they want?”

  “They started for my files. I threw them out. They got nothing.”

  “Who were they?”

  “Some kid named Bob Kennedy who says he’s the chief counsel. A real jerk. He had two flunkies with him.” Hoffa paused. “They still on your tail?”

  “Parked right outside my house,” Daniel said. “Out in the open where I can see them.”

  “What do you think?” Hoffa asked.

  “They’re fishing. They don’t know what they’re looking for. They’re hoping we’ll do something that they can make a case out of.”

  “I took your advice and spoke to my lawyer. He says sit tight and give them nothing unless they come with a subpoena. Then, even with that, he has ways to make it tough for them.”

  Daniel thought for a moment. “I think my mutual-fund idea is even m
ore important now than ever. It will be a clean operation that no one can throw a stone at. Open and aboveboard.”

  “The word out of Florida is that it won’t be so clean. They want in, and they’re pissed off you didn’t talk to them.”

  “Too bad,” Daniel said. “I’ll straighten them out.”

  “They play rough,” Hoffa said.

  “We don’t?” Daniel laughed.

  Hoffa laughed. “If you need help, holler.”

  “If I need help it will be too late to holler,” Daniel said.

  “Just be careful,” Hoffa said. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.” Daniel put down the telephone. He stood there for a moment, then called Moses at home. “Bring your car over and park it on the street behind my house. Wait there for me.”

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing to worry about. I just have to get out of here without my watchdogs following me.”

  “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Daniel went back into the living room. Margaret was sitting on the couch. “Moses is coming for me in about fifteen minutes. I’m going out the back door and through our neighbors’ yard to the street behind us.”

  “Why can’t you go out the front door?”

  “Because there are some men out there from the Senate Labor Committee. They’ve been following me for weeks now and I don’t want them to know where I’m going.”

  She was silent, watching him pour another drink for himself. She waited until he drank it. “Why didn’t you tell me about those men before?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you. Besides, it’s not important.”

  “Not important? Is that what you want me to think? Because it’s not important you carry a gun on you all the time. What do you expect me to think? I’m going out of my mind thinking you’re in some kind of danger I know nothing about.”

  “I’ve always carried a gun.”

  “D.J. told me that, but I thought it was only to make me feel better.”

  “It’s true,” he said. “It’s habit more than anything else.” He refilled his glass. “A long time ago I was kidnapped, beaten up and held prisoner for three days, then dumped on a deserted highway in the middle of a freezing storm. I swore I would never again allow that to happen to me.”

  “Are you going to meet Lansky?”

  He nodded.

  “Will it be dangerous?”

  “No. We just have some business to talk.”

  “How long will you be?”

  He looked at his watch. It was almost ten o’clock. “Not long. I’ll be back here before midnight. I’ll call you if I see it will be later.”

  “I’ll wait up for you.”

  He smiled and bent, kissing her cheek. “Don’t worry, Margaret. I’ll be all right.”

  ***

  Moses pulled the car into the parking lot behind the warehouse. “Want me to go with you?” he asked.

  Daniel shook his head. “No. Wait here in the car for me.” He went up the steps and knocked on the iron door. The door opened and the same man who had let him in before nodded to him. Daniel followed him inside.

  It was exactly the same as it had been before. The counting tables were busy, and no one looked up as they walked through the rooms and into the office. As before, Lansky was behind the desk.

  The blond bodyguard stepped in front of Daniel as he started forward. “You packing a gun?” he asked in a cold voice.

  “No. I don’t carry guns when I visit friends,” Daniel said.

  The bodyguard glanced over his shoulder at Lansky.

  “If he says he’s not carrying a gun,” Lansky said softly, “he’s not carrying a gun.”

  The bodyguard nodded, then, turning swiftly, dug a hard right fist into Daniel’s stomach. Daniel bent almost double, fighting the pain and sudden nausea that clutched at him. He stayed bent over, forcing himself to breathe slowly, until the nausea subsided, then straightened up.

  There was a faint smile on Lansky’s face. “My boy doesn’t like having guns shoved in his face.”

  “I don’t blame him,” Daniel said. He started as if to walk around the bodyguard to the desk. The bodyguard turned to watch, and so he never saw Daniel’s hamlike fist coming up almost from the floor. Daniel felt the shock run up through his arm as the old-fashioned uppercut tore into the bodyguard’s chin, lifting the man almost straight up into the air, across the corner of the desk, tumbling backward until he came to a stop against the wall and slid to the floor. The bodyguard’s chin hung crookedly from his face, broken teeth impacted into his lower lip, blood pouring from his nose and mouth, his eyes dazed and vague.

  Daniel stared down at him for a moment, then turned back to Lansky. He spoke as if there had been no interruption. “I don’t like having guns shoved at me either.”

  Lansky stared at him for a moment, then glanced down at the bodyguard. He gestured to the two other men in the room. “Better get him out of here and clean him up.”

  “If I were you,” Daniel said. “I would get him to a doctor. Your boy’s got a glass jaw. I felt it break in at least three different places.” He moved toward the chair. “Mind if I sit down?”

  Lansky gestured silently. They didn’t speak until they were alone in the room and the door had clicked shut.

  “Now what was that all about?” Daniel asked.

  “I’m sorry,” Lansky said. “But you know how it is. I had to let him prove himself.”

  Daniel shook his head. “What did he prove? Nothing.”

  “He proved himself out of a job,” Lansky said. “I don’t need bodyguards with glass jaws.”

  Daniel laughed. His voice turned serious. “So much for the fun and games. You wanted to see me?”

  Lansky came right to the point. “The mutual fund. My feelings are hurt. You didn’t ask me in.”

  “That’s right.”

  “I want in.”

  “It’s not part of our deal,” Daniel said.

  “I didn’t say it was,” Lansky replied. “I just told you I wanted in.”

  “Then let me make it simple for you, Mr. Lansky. The reason you weren’t asked in is that I don’t want you in. This is one operation that’s going to stay clean.”

  “You’re being naive,” Lansky said. “You’re asking for trouble. We can blow you away like that.” He snapped his fingers.

  Daniel smiled. “Then you have nothing. Not the mutual fund nor the business we’re already operating.”

  “You have a pregnant wife and a son at school,” Lansky said.

  “And what do you have, Mr. Lansky?” Daniel asked softly. “A life you live in the shadows, surrounded by glass jaws to keep you from being blown away? Did you stop to think that every time the butcher and grocer come to your house, every electrician and telephone man, every delivery that’s made to you is made by a man who wears a union button? There’s twenty million of them. And if I say the word, there is no way on God’s earth you can escape them short of dying of natural causes.”

  Lansky stared at him without speaking. Daniel got to his feet. Lansky finally spoke. “I’m not alone in this. I’ll have to explain it to my associates.”

  Daniel looked down at him. “You speak Yiddish don’t you?”

  Lansky nodded.

  “When I was going to the labor school in New York many years ago, I picked up a few phrases that really said it all. This is one of them. You tell your associates that I’m the shabbes goy. That I’m the one man who can help keep the labor movement respectable and legitimate in the public eye. And they don’t want to fuck with that, because if they do, they might very well kill the goose that lays the golden egg.”

  “I don’t know whether they’ll buy it.”

  “If they don’t,” Daniel said, “we’ll both be sorry.”

  Lansky stared up at him thoughtfully. Finally a slow smile crossed his face. “Are you really sure you’re not Daniel Webster?”

  Chapter 13

  Daniel stared down at the repor
ts piled on the desk in front of him. Quickly he flipped through them, a sinking feeling of despair going through him. Finally he put them back on the desk and brought his hand down hard. “It’s not working, God damn it.”

  Moses and Jack stared back at him. They were silent. D.J. leaned against the wall looking at his father. It was the end of June, and there were no more classes until fall.

  “In the last ten days, I traveled four thousand miles, spoke to fifteen different union locals with a membership of at least eight or nine thousand men and all we got is a lousy five hundred and seventy subscriptions. How do I make those idiots understand that this is the best thing that ever happened to them? The only time in their lives they have a chance to get an honest count?”

  Moses was consoling. “That old saying about a prophet being without honor in his own country has to be true.”

  “That’s no help,” Daniel said. “We need at least eighty to a hundred thousand subscriptions.”

  “You’ve got to come on stronger with them,” Jack said. “They want to hear blue sky and a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.”

  “That’s not my style,” Daniel said. “I’m not a con man.” He bit the end from another cigar. “Where do I go next?”

  “It’s a big one,” Jack said. “Detroit. We expect fifteen thousand men at this one. In addition to the Teamsters, Reuther promised us a big turnout from the United Auto Workers. It’s so big that we’ve even got network television and radio coverage.”

  Daniel chewed on the cigar for a moment. “Maybe we’d better cancel it. I don’t feel like having the whole country watch me fall on my ass.”

  “Father.” D.J. came toward the desk. “I have an idea, but I don’t know whether it will work.”

  His father looked at him. “Let’s hear it. Right now I’m ready to listen to anything.”

  “It may not be a practical application for this,” D.J. said. “But one of the courses I just finished was on credit and installment buying. You know—automobile, appliances, home furnishings, things like that.”

  Daniel was suddenly interested. “Tell me more.”

  “They pay so much down and so much a week or a month until it’s all paid off. The minute the contract is signed, the seller discounts the contract with a bank and he’s got his money right away. And the buyer has the merchandise.”