“Well, it wasn’t my guy. The Mummy’s alive and complaining. I should be up and running again next week – on a reduced scale, of course – so be ready for a call.”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t know…”
“What? You’re not going to leave me high and dry, are you? Kick me when I’m down?”
Sheesh. “Nobody’s kicking you. I’ve just… lost my taste for it.”
Bertel leaned forward. “You’re putting me in a real bind, Jack. Tony’s gone, and now you’re quitting – without giving notice? Without time for me to find a replacement? You think that’s fair?”
No, it probably wasn’t. And Abe had vouched for him, so he owed him to play square with Bertel. He didn’t really know what this Mummy guy was doing with the money. Could be building mosques.
“All right,” Jack said. “Consider this my notice: I’ll give you three more runs and then I’m out.”
Bertel nodded. “Fair enough, I guess. But if I can’t find a replacement by then–”
“Three and out.”
Jack hoped his tone carried the finality he felt. He wanted to put a period on this very brief chapter of his life. He wasn’t going to do this anymore.
19
After Bertel left, Jack wandered back to the bar with the remnant of the second beer. Lou and Barney were exactly where he’d left them.
“You didn’t make your friend happy while he was here,” Barney said.
“Maybe because I took his beer.”
Lou exhaled a cloud of smoke. “He looked as unhappy going out as he did coming in.”
“Yeah, but for different reasons.” Julio was back out on the floor, so Jack said, “You were saying about our friend? Like, what’s eating him?”
“Well, first off,” Lou said, “he got word that Harry’s kid is putting his share of The Spot up for sale.”
Barney nodded. “Between the recession and his late, great, fern-brained ay-hole father screwing around with dee-cor and serving shar-doe-nay, the place is runnin’ in the red.”
“But he’s gone. Julio can change the place and–”
Lou was shaking his head. “The kid’s in Saudi Arabia and he put his mother in charge, and she’s worse than Harry.”
Saudi Arabia… Arabs seemed to keep popping up one way or another.
Barney added, “He don’t want the business. He says if he don’t find a buyer by the end of the year, he’s closin’ the place down.”
“Can he do that?”
“Owning ninety percent, yeah, he can.”
“Well, that’s a great opportunity for Julio to buy that ninety percent.”
“Julio ain’t got no, whatyacallit, discretionary income.”
Jack wasn’t surprised and tossed his suspicions up for grabs. “Because of the protection he’s paying?”
Barney and Lou stared at him for a long moment.
“Where’d you get that idea?” Barney said.
“I saw him pass an envelope to that mob type – I mean he was right out of central casting.”
They did their married couple thing. Lou started.
“That’s Vinny Donuts–”
“–works for Tony Cannon–”
“–with the Gambinos–”
“–and it ain’t protection–”
“–it’s for a loan Harry had before he died–”
“–and if Julio don’t pay–”
“–the Cannon’s gonna sic Vinny on Harry’s wife–”
“–so Julio’s fronting the vigorish.”
Julio soared a bunch of notches in Jack’s estimation.
“So Julio’s got nothing to buy with,” Barney said. “And if sonny boy do find a buyer, there’s gonna be lotsa changes made. And it’s a damn good bet–”
“–I’d say it’s a sure bet, wouldn’t you?” Lou added.
“I won’t disagree, my friend. It’s a sure bet the new owner’s gonna do a clean sweep.”
“Which means, anyhow you look at it, Julio’s out of a job by New Year’s Day.”
“Maybe sooner.”
“But he’s part owner,” Jack said.
Barney shrugged. “Yeah. Which means he gets ten percent of the profits – ten percent of zilch.”
“But that’s just the background noise,” Lou said.
“The Muzak, you might say.”
“What’s really chewin’ on his ass–”
A phone began to ring behind the bar. Barney waved to Julio but he’d heard it and was already on his way. He ducked under the service counter and snatched a receiver from somewhere out of sight.
“The Spot.”
As he listened, his face darkened and his lips drew back from his teeth into a fierce snarl. He began shouting in Spanish so rapid Jack could barely make out a word. Then he slammed the receiver down, yanked the phone from the wall, and threw it across the room.
“Awright!” he shouted. “Everybody drink up and get out! We closing!”
Lou and Barney looked at each other in alarm, then at Julio.
“Hey, it’s Friday night, Julio. You never–”
“Closing time!” the little man shouted.
He grabbed a Louisville Slugger from under the counter, then ducked back out onto the floor.
“Closing time!”
He kept repeating the phrase as he moved around the room. Not many tables were occupied, but he went from one to the next, slamming his bat on each tabletop, sending drinks flying and customers scurrying for the door.
SLAM! “Closing time!”
Jack watched in awe. “No wonder the place is dying.”
“Never seen him like this,” Barney said.
Lou said, “Gotta be Rosa again.”
“Rosa?” Jack turned to them. “Who’s Rosa?”
“His older sister. Married a gringo a few years back. Neil…?” He looked at Barney.
“Zalesky.”
SLAM! “Closing time!”
“Right. Neil Zalesky. He kept wailing on her, so she cut him loose. They’re divorced now but he keeps coming back.”
Jack said, “Why doesn’t she get a restraining order?” He wasn’t sure exactly what that was, but knew it was supposed to keep stalkers and abusive spouses away.
“She’s got one,” Barney said.
“Yep. Got two or three.”
“But they don’t matter to this ay-hole.”
SLAM! “Closing time!”
“Nope. He sneaks in whenever he pleases and scares the shit outa her.”
Jack shook his head. “That’s why they’ve got police. All she’s got to do is report him and…” Lou was shaking his head. “What?”
“She does.”
“Every time.”
“But his buddies always say he was with them.”
“Got half a dozen alibis.”
“Every time.”
SLAM! “Closing time!”
“He just laughs and calls himself ‘the Ghost.’”
“Should call himself ‘the Ay-hole.’”
“Used to do it just once in a while.”
“But now that Rosa’s got a new boyfriend–”
“–he’s doin’ it more and more.”
“Musta just scared the shit outa her again.”
“She keeps calling Julio–”
“–seein’ as he’s the man of the family.”
“–askin’ him to do something.”
Julio returned to the bar then. He’d emptied the room. Only Jack, Lou, and Barney remained.
“Sorry, guys. Gotta close.”
“What he do this time?” Lou said.
“The hijo de puta again?” Barney said.
Julio’s lips peeled back from his clenched teeth. “Took a dump on her pillow.”
“Aw shit!”
“That ain’t funny, Lou,” Barney said.
Lou looked confused a second, then shook his head. “Oh, no. Didn’t mean it like that, Julio.”
Jack winced at the thought. That was low.
Really low.
“S’okay. But you guys go. Got somethin’ I gotta do.”
“Like what?” Lou said.
Barney squinted through the smoke from his cigarette. “You ain’t gonna do anything stupid now, are you, friend?”
Julio tapped the business end of the baseball bat against his palm. “Gonna find out if ghosts bleed.”
Sounded as if Julio had been pushed over the line and was going to “do something” about Rosa’s problem.
Barney and Lou started yammering at once.
“You don’t want to do this.”
“He’ll know you did it.”
“The cops’ll tag you.”
“You’ll be locked up.”
“And he’ll be laughing all the way back to Rosa’s place.”
Julio glowered as his dark eyes fixed on a point in space, as if imagining how good it would feel to swing that bat and hear bones snap. “Not if he’s in hell.”
Lou threw up his hands. “Oh, yeah! Get sent up for life!”
“That’ll show him!”
Julio still had that thousand-mile stare. “At least he won’t be botherin’ Rosa no more.”
Part of Jack wanted to walk away, but another part had to speak.
“There’s a better way.”
Julio looked at him. “Hey, Jack. You a nice guy an’ all, but you don’t know–”
“We told him about Zalesky,” Barney said.
“Yeah.” Lou’s voice dripped scorn. “The Ghost.”
“Right now the law is on your side,” Jack said.
“The law ain’t doin’ shit, meng.”
“Yeah, but you go off half-cocked, it’ll be on his side, and he’ll use it against you.”
“So what do I do?”
“Two can play his game,” Jack said.
Julio looked interested. “How you mean?”
“Well, he’s got guys lying for him when he’s out messing with your sister. When something bad happens to him, you can have a whole roomful of people vouch for you.”
“Who?”
Jack gestured to the room. “Everybody drinking here – I mean, when you haven’t chased them all away.”
Lou and Barney guffawed.
Julio frowned. “But if I’m here, who’s bashin’ his skull?”
“Somebody else. Like me, for instance.”
“Why would you bash him? You don’t even know Rosa.”
Jack shrugged. “I know you. And head bashing is a last resort. Maybe his life can become so miserable he’ll forget about Rosa.”
“Yeah? How?”
“Don’t know yet. How’s he make his living?”
“Any way he can,” Barney said.
Lou waved a hand. “Told Rosa he was in sales but he’s mainly in cons.”
“As in scams?” Jack said.
All three of them nodded.
“He lie to my Rosa,” Julio said. “Said he was in real estate.”
“Commercial real estate,” Lou added. “But he ain’t. Just another one of his scams.”
A con man…interesting.
“Who does he target?”
“Little old ladies with money,” Barney said. “He stays away from people who can come back at him.”
“Sounds like a swell guy. Why don’t you let me check him out?”
“Check him out how?”
“Find out his weaknesses. Everybody’s got weaknesses.”
“And then you bash his head in?” Julio said.
Jack thought of Moose. He didn’t want to make a habit of that.
“If it comes down to that… if there’s no other way… let’s just say we leave that on the table. But if his head’s gonna get bashed, it would be nice to work it so somebody unconnected to all of us does the bashing.”
He got three puzzled looks.
“A guy like that’s got to have enemies, right? And if he doesn’t have the right kind, maybe I can make him some.”
“You do this for me?” Julio said.
“Haven’t done anything yet. Just going to check him out and see if there’s a way to hurt him and keep you out of jail.” He pointed to the bat. “Meanwhile, you put that away, I’ll buy us all a drink, and you can tell me all about this Neil Zalesky.”
Julio stowed the bat back under the counter. “Okay. For now. We try it your way. But I’m buying.”
Jack had no idea where this would lead. His money worries were gone for the moment, so why not see where this took him? He’d fixed problems and situations for people at home and at school – sometimes they knew it, sometimes not – so why not try his hand here in the city?
Might be fun.
SATURDAY
1
Jack placed the black plastic platter on the counter and, with a flourish, whipped off the clear cover.
“Oy!” Abe cried as he took in the array of bagels, lox, cream cheese, sliced Vidalia onion, and capers. “For me?”
First thing this morning, Jack searched out a kosher deli and had them put together a breakfast platter for four. This was what they gave him. From what he’d learned of Abe over the months, he couldn’t think of a better way to express his appreciation than through food.
“The least I can do. You saved my life – literally.”
“How? When?”
“Yesterday – when you got that call about me.”
Abe had produced a Special Forces knife from somewhere and was already slicing a bagel.
“You’re here only a few months and already you’re running afoul of the Mikulski brothers. You managed this how?”
Mikulski brothers… so that was their name.
“Wasn’t easy.”
Abe began smearing cream cheese on the bagel halves.
“You’re very lucky I was here. They were thinking bad thoughts about you, and it’s nisht gut to have those two thinking bad thoughts about you.” He slid the knife across the counter to Jack. “Have a shmear.”
Jack took the knife and began sawing at a poppyseed bagel. It sliced through so quickly he almost cut his hand.
“Sharp!”
Abe was positioning a slice of onion on the cream cheese. “I should bother to keep a knife that isn’t?”
“These Mikulski brothers… what’s their deal?”
Abe shrugged. “I should know? No one knows. Some say Mikulski might not even be their real name. That it’s maybe the name of an abused child who died. What I do know: Like ghosts they move. It’s a name you fear if you involve children with sex. You don’t want those shtarkers to find out, because that’s when you disappear.”
Jack mimicked what Abe was doing with the onions and slices of smoked salmon.
“Well, I think you saved me from disappearing.”
Jack placed the bagel top over the goodies in the middle, making a sandwich. He took a bite and the combination of flavors exploded in his mouth – the saltiness of the lox, the sweetness of the cream cheese, the tang of the onion.
“Holy crap! This is great!”
Abe stared at him in wonder. “You’ve never had bagel and lox?”
“Never.”
“Such a deprived childhood you had.”
“Hey, you know where I grew up. We were lucky we got mail delivery. I never tasted Chinese takeout till I got to college–”
Abe’s expression was horrorstruck. “No Chinese–?”
“–and no one was serving lox and bagels in Johnson, New Jersey, I promise you.”
“Well, then, welcome to Hymietown.”
Jack pointed at him. “Jesse Jackson… 1984, right?”
“Such a memory.”
He remembered discussing that remark in Mr. Kressy’s civics class back in his freshman year of high school.
Abe said, “With that memory, you must recall how you crossed the Mikulskis.” He waggled his fingers in a come-to-me motion. “Tell.”
Jack gave him a somewhat different version from what he’d told Bertel – more emphasis on the brothers, less on Tony.
Abe had finished his first bagel-and-lox sandwich during the story and was assembling a second by the time he finished.
“Such a string of good luck for those girls,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
“First, the raid on Bertel’s place. That leaves you with no job and at loose ends. So your friend just happens to take you to a place where the girls will be delivered.”
“But not till the following night. We were going to take off the next morning.”
“Yes, but the driver of the second truck has an accident and is arrested. You are drafted into driving in his place. The Mikulskis are tipped and are waiting. You escape with this mamzer Reggie who would have drowned the girls if you hadn’t been there.”
Jack had to agree – an impressive string of good luck for them.
“Had a bit of luck myself at the end,” he said as he placed a shopping bag on the counter.
Julio had kept the grocery bag behind the bar and knew from the get-go it contained cash. On returning it he’d given Jack the paper shopping bag because he thought it was safer.
Abe took a big bite of his second bagel. “Nu?”
“The brothers, shall we say, confiscated some cash from the dead Arabs and–”
“A cut they gave you? Such charity. And you’re giving it to me?”
That hadn’t been Jack’s intention at all, but he did owe Abe his life.
“Well, not all of it, but I’ll be glad to split–”
Abe waved him off. “A vits! I don’t want your gelt. How much they give you?”
“Um, thirty grand.”
His eyes widened. “Thirty–” He looked in the bag. “A hefty percentage.”
“Just one.”
“One? That means…oy. But it stands to reason, considering the buyers were ready to purchase thirty little girls.” He shook his head. “Those words – like smutz they taste.” He tapped the basket. “Nu. Why you bring this here? You like basketball? A whole court I can sell you.”
“I need someplace to put it.”
“You mean invest?”
“No. Store it. I never realized how bulky cash can be. I’m running out of space. And if there’s ever a fire–”
“A storage locker?”
Jack shook his head. “Don’t trust it.”
Abe rubbed his chin, smearing cream cheese along it. “You need the money right now?”
Cold City (Repairman Jack - the Early Years Trilogy) Page 22