Sinner's Ball (14 page)

“Who was your first love, Steeg?”

“You.”

I could feel the smile in her touch.

“Sometimes it's good to be lied to,” she said. “It's been a long day.

“For both of us,” I agreed.

“What do you have in mind?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

T
he next morning Allie was up and out of the house before I awoke. There was a note lying on top of my clothes.
Plenty of stuff in the fridge for breakfast
, it said. I checked. A package of baby carrots. A couple of limp asparagus spears. A plastic baggy chock-full of bean sprouts. And a brick of soy.

Visions of Feeney's danced in my head.

When I arrived, Nick was behind the bar engaged in one of his favorite pastimes. Adulterating the inventory.

“Still pouring the cheap stuff into the top-shelf bottles?” I said.

“The barflies can't tell the difference anyway. Drink antifreeze if the label was pretty.”

“What else is going on?”

“Your brother.”

“What's he up to now?”

“Does going nuts count?”

“Not a new condition.”

“This is. He trusts no one. Hammering all of us, especially Anthony. Riding the kid into the ground.”

“Why?”

“Ask the crazy fuck youself. He'll be here in a little while. Said he has business he wants to discuss. Can't wait.”

“What're the chances of getting some breakfast?”

“Fifty-fifty. My cook is running late. Should be here soon.”

Minutes after I settled into a back booth, my brother, Anthony, Tommy Cisco, and Sal Lomascio walked through the door.

“Mind if we join you?” Dave said.

I slid over to make room. “Swell! Breakfast with the family.”

Dave appeared to be in a good mood, and Cisco had his wiseass sneer firmly in place. But Anthony's dour look told me he wasn't having a particularly sparkling day.

“Better!” my brother said. “This is a celebration.”

“What's the occasion?”

Nick brought over a fresh pot of coffee and four mugs. He looked at Dave and then at Anthony, shook his head, and disappeared back behind the bar.

“The DA is throwing out the bullshit felony murder indictment. And they don't have enough to link me to the arson, either.”

“How'd you find out?”

“Got a guy in the DA's office. Called my lawyer. The mope who bought it in Coney Island clinched it.”

“Remember him well.”

“Me and Sal were in Atlantic City when the poor bastard got sliced and diced. I got the receipts to prove it.”

“That's great news, Dave.”

“Like I said, it's a celebration. And now you can walk away from Martine and get on with your life.”

“Assuming she lets me.”

“I heard about that little incident you had. Almost took you out. Warned you about them, didn't I?”

“You did. But you should have warned Luce, too.”

“I'm not following.”

“Thanks to your pal Terry Sloan, she's facing a departmental trial.”

Dave rubbed his cheek with the stump of his hand.

“I didn't see that coming,” he said. “The slimy fuck put you out on the plank. But he's about to take your place.”

“Doesn't help Luce.”

“Because you don't do real well at listening.”

“Not my long suit, Dave. I guess in that way we're a lot alike.”

“Isn't the only way,” he said.

“Actually, it is.”

“Whatever,” he said with a shrug. “And Anthony here, he isn't too good at listening either.” Dave looked at his son, sitting directly across from him. “Are you, kid?”

The celebration was over.

Anthony had wrapped his hands around the mug so tightly his fingers twitched. Cisco just sat there with a shit-eating grin, taking it all in.

“Why don't you lay off him?”

“Lay off? Here's what happens when I leave my son to his own devices. I put money on the street. I send my son out to collect. Easy job. Right? Not for Anthony. He comes back short.”

Anthony stared down at his coffee. “Only one guy,” he said. “Just one. A hundred and fifty dollars. Not a big deal.”

Dave slammed his hand down on the table so hard the mugs danced.

“It's
my
business!” Dave shouted. “Who the hell are you to make that decision?”

“I'm outta here,” Sal said, rising from his chair. “I'll be in touch, Dave.”

Anthony struggled to keep his voice low. “The guy's life is a shambles. Lost his job. His apartment. He's living out of his car. I know. I saw it. A heap. Tires are flat. How's he going to come up with the money?”

“He tells you a sob story, and you buy it. And I'm supposed to give a shit. He lives in his car. I own it. Oh, I forgot. You're out of the car-stealing business, 'cause you fucked that up too.”

Anthony reached into his pocket, came out with a fistful of bills, and threw them in Dave's face. I wanted to applaud.

Anthony got up from the table. “That'll cover his next couple of installments,” he said. “I'm through here.”

Cisco would have made it out of Feeney's intact. If he just hadn't laughed. It wasn't much. A muffled giggle. Tops.

But it was enough.

Dave's cheek glowed a dark red. Something terrible was coming. And I didn't move fast enough to stop it.

Dave grabbed the glass coffeepot by the handle and drove it into Cisco's face. His head slammed back against the seat, and a long
oooooh!
came out of his mouth.

Anthony went pale. When he finally mustered the energy to speak, he had only one question.

“Why …?”

Dave didn't wait for him to finish.

“The organ grinder's monkey should know better to laugh at the man who feeds him bananas,” he said.

As if there were a spill on the table that needed attention, Dave waved Nick over. “Clean up this mess.”

“I'm calling an ambulance,” Nick said.

“Fine. Have them pick him up outside. Anthony can go along for the ride.”

“It's below zero and snowing again,” Nick said.

“Let's hope the EMT guys don't run into traffic.”

There was no point to arguing. Nick and Anthony helped Cisco out to the street.

“Nicely done, Dave. You keep this up and Anthony's going to explode. Won't be pretty.”

“Got to set an example. Else how's the kid gonna learn?”

“Maybe he doesn't like your method of instruction.”

“Not your business.”

“It is when he takes a swing at me.”

Dave looked surprised. “He hit you?”

“Put me on the ground when I suggested that he get as far away from you as possible.”

“So he knocked you on your ass, huh?” he said with a proud smile. “Maybe there's still hope for him.”

“You know, the older you get the more you sound like Pop.”

“Nah. He would've taken a more direct approach.”

Hard to argue with.

“Remember when after the explosion …,” Dave gestured unconsciously with his stump, “I was laid up.”

“I do.”

“I'm laying on the bed, full of painkillers, and everyone thinks I'm out of it. Don't know what's going on. But I heard everything.”

“Like what?”

“Like Anthony saying he was going to kill that fucking Hebe. And Franny whacking him in the mouth and telling him it ends here.”

“Good memory.”

“There's more. You telling everyone that I was sorry, when what I really said was the sins of the father are visited on the children.”

“So I edited it a touch.”

“And you were right to do it. And so was Franny. The craziness should have ended for Anthony in that hospital room. It didn't. And that's on me.”

“And your point?”

“We both know this has nothing to do with Cisco, don't we, Jake?”

“I'm not following.”

“A few weeks ago you nail Cisco with a right that would bring down a hippo. And today I rearrange his face. Cisco is nothing to us. Dirt under our fingernails. So the question is, why?”

“I was pissed.”

“At who? Not at Cisco, who we both agree isn't worth our energy.”

“Anthony,” I said.

“Bingo! But you love my kid too much to kick the crap out of him. So you take it out on Cisco. Me too. See, you and me, we're not too different after all.”

It was a troubling thought.

“Now you're going Freudian on me.”

“Whatever. If my son would take his head out of his ass, he would see what my life has cost me. But Anthony seems to think this is romantic, and we're a bunch of happy-go-lucky swashbucklers.”

“And you want to disabuse him of that notion through your supremely fucked-up version of tough love.”

Dave nodded. “Before he thinks of becoming a boss, he's got to see what it's like to be a worker. A wad of
chewing gum stuck on the bottom of his boss's shoe. Maybe then he'll realize what a shitty life this is.”

“And if he doesn't figure it out?”

“What's to figure? Unless he finds another line of work, he's damned. Just like his old man.”

B
y the time I made it out to the street, the ambulance had come and gone. But the half-dollar-sized snowflakes spitting down from a roof of gray-bellied clouds hadn't. Gusty crosswinds sent them spinning. Kenny Apple stood in the middle of the maelstrom, leaning on his car and blowing on his hands.

“Why're you out in the middle of a blizzard?” I said.

He jutted his chin at Feeney's. “A lot more congenial than in there.”

Hard to argue with.

“You look like shit,” I said.

“Had to kill a man last night. Takes something out of you.”

“For my brother?”

“For you.

“Who?”

“His driver's license said John Riley.”

“What happened?”

“You spent the night with Allie.”

“When you left, you said you were gonna take a nap.”

“It's more fun chasing after you. So I figured I'd hang around a bit. See what they'd do.”

“And what did they do?”

“Riley pulls into a spot across the street from her building, sees the two of you go in, and sits in his car for about five hours. I guess he got bored waiting for you to make an appearance. Opened the door and came out with a semiautomatic. It was late. The street was empty, so the dumb bastard didn't even try to hide it.”

“And?”

“He crossed the street and was almost at the curb when I put a bullet in his head. Went down between two parked cars. No muss. No fuss. I pulled over, stuffed him in the trunk of my car, and dropped him in the weeds out near JFK.”

Kenny handed me Riley's wallet.

“Without this,” he said, “the cops will have to run his prints, and it'll take longer to identify him. That should give us more time to deal with the other half of the dynamic duo before he knows there's something wrong.”

I took Riley's wallet and slipped it into my pocket.

“I owe you, Kenny,” I said. “What can I do to repay you?”

“Take a ride with me.”

“Where?”

“I've got a terrible yen to see my kids.”

•   •   •

Y
eshiva Ohel Joseph, on Ocean Parkway in Brooklyn, was an imposing three-story building faced in mammoth slabs of beige stone. Snow decorated the flat places like icing on a cake.

Kenny parked the car on a side street across from the schoolyard, checked his watch, and settled in.

“What are we waiting for?” I said.

“My wife to pick them up. This way I get to see the three of them.”

“Why don't you just go in?”

“Sarah has an order of protection. Can't go within a hundred yards of my own children.”

“Your wife really knows how to carry a grudge.”

Kenny shrugged. “She's right. Didn't want a killer anywhere near her kids.”

“How long were you married?”

“Twelve very good years,” he said. “And then I threw it all away. Turned into the man I was always meant to be.”

“From where I sit, you're one of the best men I know.”

“No, I'm not. We all have a destiny. I'm living it. And it's not pretty.”

“Don't you think you're being a little hard on yourself?

“Self-flagellation is the only thing that keeps me going.”

“What's my destiny, Kenny?”

“You'll figure it out.” He shifted around in his seat.

“You know, I still love her. Always will. She's the one who got the raw deal. Not me.”

“Now you're feeling sorry for yourself.”

“And that's one of the other things I do really well.” He straightened up. “There she is, out front. And there're the kids.”

Kenny opened the door and got out of the car. I got out of the car with him.

I hurried up to him.

“Where're you going?”

“To hug my kids.”

“What about the order of protection?”

“What can a judge do to me that I haven't done to myself?”

“I don't know if this is such a good idea,” I said.

He smiled. “What's that you always say? In for a dime, in for a dol—”

And then everything happened in a blur of quick cuts.

A car bearing down on us.

Kenny yelling my name. Shoving me to the ground.

An explosion.

Kenny's muffled grunt.

His body spinning, and finally falling on top of mine.

T
he cops and the ambulance arrived at about the same time. The cops took my statement while the EMT guys tended to Kenny. I told them the truth. I saw nothing and heard little more. When everyone was finished and all the
notepads were put away, I hopped on the ambulance and rode with Kenny to Maimonides Medical Center.