Cogan's Trade (24 page)

“I dunno,” Frankie said.

“Frank,” Cogan said, “you got to keep in mind what I told you. Your friends’re worried about you. You wanna finally get laid right, it’s your friends, they wanna see you get the chance, you know what I mean? And it’s your friends, wanna know where Squirrel’s gonna be.”

“This’s the first time I seen you,” Frankie said.

“New friends’re best,” Cogan said. “Your other one, there, you can’t depend on him, you know? Look at what he got you in before. All that time. You could’ve been out getting a decent piece of ass, ’stead of pounding sand up yours and everything.”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are,” Frankie said.

“Very few guys do,” Cogan said. “Oh, China, maybe, and, oh yeah: Dillon. Dillon knows me. You’re, you strike me as a pretty intelligent guy. Want me to call Dillon for you, and you can talk to him, see who I am? There’s not much to find out, I can tell you that. But you can talk to him. Wanna talk to Dillon?”

“No,” Frankie said.

“Well okay,” Cogan said. “Where’s he gonna be? I know you’re gonna know, if you don’t know now.”

“I haven’t got no idea,” Frankie said. “I seen John three or four times since I got out. I don’t know what he does, nights. Goes home, I guess.”

“Okay,” Cogan said. He finished his beer. “See you around, Frankie, my friend.” He started to get off the stool.

“Wait a minute,” Frankie said.

“There’s things,” Cogan said, “there’s things that won’t wait. You tell me, you don’t know. Okay, I accept that. But I got something to do. I got to find a guy that knows.”

“Where John’s gonna be tomorrow night,” Frankie said.

“And something else now, I guess,” Cogan said. “Like where you’re gonna be, the day after. You gonna be here again? Gonna come in about three-thirty, drink about four beers, hang around until you eat, leave and go up Pagliacci’s like you always do, see what’s still breathing enough to fuck, go home around midnight, one o’clock? That what you’re gonna be doing day after tomorrow? Or are you gonna be doing something else, so it takes me a couple, three days extra? It’s not gonna matter. You could just save me a lot of time, is all.”

Frankie said nothing.

Cogan got off the stool. He rested his forearms on the back of it. “Look,” he said, “you gotta be realistic, right, kid? You gotta be. I know the guy. I also know what’s goin’ through your head. He’s, you think he’s a friend of yours, right? You probably, you probably got something lined up with him right now, am I right?”

Frankie did not answer.

“It don’t matter,” Cogan said. “I know how you feel. But you think, I bet you figured, that Trattman thing, it was gonna work, right?”

Frankie did not answer.

“Them things,” Cogan said, “lemme tell you something, kid: them things, they never work. Guys with bright ideas, you know? Like Squirrel. They all know the end-around, and they’re not gonna get something and work it steady and make it work and make it pay. Not them. He’s always been like this, always been looking for a hustle, and guys like him, all they ever do is fuck things up. For everybody else.”

“Trattman got hit,” Frankie said.

“There’s all kinds of reasons for things,” Cogan said. “Guys get whacked for doing things, guys get whacked for not doing things, it don’t matter. The only thing matters is if you’re the guy that’s gonna get whacked. That’s the only fuckin’ thing.”

Frankie nodded.

“You,” Cogan said, “you’re one of the few guys that know, right?”

“I dunno,” Frankie said.

“Yes you do,” Cogan said. “You know very fuckin’ well. You, you got a choice. You’re gonna be one of the guys that gets whacked out or else you’re not. You know that. It’s just a matter of time, now, my friend.
Just a matter of time. Him first and then you. That’s the way you’re going.”

Frankie did not answer.

“Except you’re in a position,” Cogan said, “you’re in a position very few of them guys ever get in. You can do something about it. I known very few guys inna position like that.”

Frankie did not answer.

“Frank,” Cogan said, “I hope you don’t think, I’m shittin’ you.”

“Look,” Frankie said, “who the fuck are you? I never saw you before in my life, all of a sudden you’re telling me all these things. What the fuck do I know? Maybe you’re not even here. I don’t know nothing.”

“Kid,” Cogan said, “I hate to see you go like this. China says you’re all right. And you’re going for fuckin’ nothin’.”

“I’m …” Frankie said, “Jesus, I dunno.”

“Lemme ask you something,” Cogan said, “and you think about this, all right? You think, I was to go down Wollaston and see him, there, right now, I was to leave here and drive down there and see him and say: ‘Squirrel, it’s you or Frankie. Who’s it gonna be?’ You think he’d even think about it? You think he would?”

“I dunno,” Frankie said.

“You asshole,” Cogan said. “An asshole like you, it’s no wonder you did time.
You fuck kin asshole
. You haven’t got no brains at all.”

“Look,” Frankie said, “look, I …”

“I haven’t got to look,” Cogan said. “Look, I know what’s going on. I know what I got to do. I need a right guy.”

Frankie’s mouth worked. He did not say anything.

“If I get a right guy,” Cogan said, “I told them this,
by the way, I said: ‘There’s two ways this thing can go. The hard way is, I do them both. The other way, I only gotta do one guy.’ I took a lot of shit for that. You know how I got them to go along with this? China. China says you’re all right. So, I always like China, I can do something for China, I’m gonna. China don’t want, you hit. Very loud on that point. Says you’re a good guy, kind of guy it’s good to have around. Okay. But you know where China is. All he can do is come up here and talk. He can’t actually do nothing for a guy.”

“No,” Frankie said.

“I can do something for a guy,” Cogan said. “I don’t have to, but I can. Now make the pick, kid, and make it right now. I’m gonna do China a favor, I’m not gonna do China a favor. Don’t matter to me.”

“Lemme think,” Frankie said.

“Nope,” Cogan said, “no thinking. Go or no go, right now. I got to get going.”

Frankie exhaled heavily. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Can you do the other thing?” Cogan said.

Frankie hesitated. “No,” he said.

“Well,” Cogan said, “that’s the selection. So, I guess you know, then.”

What’ve I gotta do?” Frankie said.

“You gotta find out where he’s gonna be,” Cogan said.

“I already know that,” Frankie said. “We’re, he asked me what I was gonna be doing, he’s gonna be some place and he wants to call me or something. I know where he’s gonna be. He’s got a girl. He told me that, before. I told him I was gonna be home, I’d be home.”

“You’re not gonna be,” Cogan said.

“I’m not?” Frankie said.

“No,” Cogan said.

“Where …” Frankie said.

“You’re gonna be with me,” Cogan said, “and we’re gonna be where he’s gonna be.”

“Jesus,” Frankie said, “I can’t do that. He sees me, it’s all over. He’ll know, something’s wrong. I can’t do that. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you where he’s gonna be. I’ll do that. But, he’s a friend of mine. I can’t do that.”

“Okay,” Cogan said, “okay. That’s, you made the other choice then, I guess.”

Frankie stared at Cogan. Cogan did not move. Frankie said: “Have I really got to do that?”

Cogan nodded.

“All of it?” Frankie said.

Cogan nodded.

“I got to be there and everything?”

Cogan nodded.

“It’s not,” Frankie said, “it’s not like, there was anything I could do, anybody else inna world couldn’t do. It’s not that. You, there must be hundreds of guys, you can get. You don’t need me.”

“Wrong,” Cogan said. He put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “Frank,” he said, “it’s not like I don’t understand what’s on your mind, right? But this thing’s a problem. And part of it, it’s partly your fault. You made a mistake. Now you gotta, you got to do the right thing. You gotta show, you understand, you made a mistake, and you gotta make things right. Otherwise, guys know you made a mistake, right? And that’s when they’re gonna want somebody to do something, like with Trattman. He never did the right thing.”

Frankie nodded.

F
RANKIE DROVE
the Gold Duster quickly through the arch with the orange lanterns into the curving drives of Stuart Manor. The apartment complexes were two-story, the first of vertical redwood planks, the second stucco, half-timbered. The parking areas were filled with Volkswagens, Camaros, Mustangs and Barracudas. There were coach lights with orange bulbs above each door.

“Jee-zuss,” Cogan said, “I finally made it. I’m in ghinny heaven.”

The small tires on the Duster howled as Frankie took it through the curves to the back of the third complex. “It’s a singles place,” he said. “You’re supposed to live here if you wanna get laid.”

“I’d have to get awful horny to drive to New Hampshire to get laid,” Cogan said.

“It’s not that far,” Frankie said. “I thought the same thing, but Johnny got tied up one night and I hadda bring her back up here. It’s not that far.”

“Seems far to me,” Cogan said. “This, this just proves it to me. The guy’s a shit.”

“He don’t have no control, where the girls live,” Frankie said. He pulled into an empty space and shut off the engine and the lights.

“He don’t have no control,” Cogan said. “Period.”

“Jackie,” Frankie said, “he’s really not a bad guy, you know? He’s not a bad guy at all.”

Cogan slouched down in the seat. The suede coat piled up around him at the neck. He shut his eyes.
“None of ’em are,” he said. “They’re all nice guys. They just get to thinking, you know?”

“He was always all right to me,” Frankie said.

“Sure,” Cogan said. “Got you almost six years inna fuckin’ slammer.”

“That wasn’t his fault,” Frankie said.

“Kid,” Cogan said, “when somebody does something, and somebody, he gets somebody else, and they go to fuckin’ jail for it, it’s his fault. That’s the rule.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” Frankie said.

“Then this isn’t your fault,” Cogan said. “If that wasn’t his fault, this isn’t your fault.”

“He didn’t mean it,” Frankie said.

“Hasn’t got nothing to do with it,” Cogan said, “nothing at all.”

A blue Rallye Nova passed behind the Duster.

“That them?” Cogan said.

“Nah,” Frankie said. “John, John’s got a Riviera.”

“I know what he’s got,” Cogan said. “What I want to know is, that them?”

“Nope,” Frankie said. “I’d’ve said if it was. You got him wrong, you know. That jail thing, he had it worse’n I did, his family and all.”

“He’s not gonna have to do it again,” Cogan said.

“He stood up,” Frankie said. “He could’ve blamed it all on us.”

“In a way,” Cogan said, “he did.”

“He did not,” Frankie said. “He never said shit.”

“He didn’t say shit about you, maybe,” Cogan said. “He still called somebody up.”

“About what?” Frankie said. “What’d he call up?”

“He knows how you do things,” Cogan said. “He knows how you’re supposed to, anyway. He knows.”

“What’s he know?” Frankie said.

“Ever hear of the Doctor?” Cogan said.

“Yeah, yeah,” Frankie said. “Dillon says he’s dead. I know.”

“When’re you talking to Dillon?” Cogan said.

“I didn’t talk to him,” Frankie said. “Johnny told me that, said Dillon said the Doctor’s dead.”

“He is dead,” Cogan said.

“Okay,” Frankie said, “you and Johnny and Dillon, the whole bunch of you say the Doctor’s dead. Big deal.”

“The Squirrel says he’s dead,” Cogan said.

“Johnny said Dillon told him, the Doctor’s dead,” Frankie said.

“That shit,” Cogan said. “That fuckin’ shit.”

A brown Maverick Grabber passed behind the Duster.

“Still not them,” Frankie said. “Why?”

“Because he knows it himself,” Cogan said. “He knows very fuckin’ well, the Doctor’s dead.”

“How’s he know?” Frankie said.

“He paid a man,” Cogan said, “he paid a man, five thousand dollars, get the Doctor dead.”

“Bull
shit
,” Frankie said.

“What’s his wife’s name,” Cogan said, “you want me to tell you, tell you what she looks like and everything, used to wear them big gold-hoop earrings? Connie.”

“So what?” Frankie said.

“That’s the broad that delivered the money,” Cogan said. “For the Doctor’s ass. Think he’d pay that if he didn’t know it was done?”

Frankie did not answer.

“You know why, Frank, he got the Doctor?” Cogan said.

“Yeah,” Frankie said, “I know.”

“Sure,” Cogan said. “Doctor made a mistake, did something he wasn’t supposed to. That’s why.”

“Well,” Frankie said, “he did.”

“Sure he did,” Cogan said. “So’d he.”

“It’s not the same thing,” Frankie said. “It’s not the same thing at all.”

A maroon Monte Carlo passed behind the Duster.

“Sure it is,” Cogan said, “the Doctor got taken out for getting everybody in the shit. And that’s what him and you did. You just thought, the only thing that was different, you thought Trattman’d get blamed for it.”