The Hoods (51 page)

“How about a drink for your partner?” I said to Crowning, motioning to the drugged whiskey. “And have a couple yourself?”

Kelly picked up the bottle and poured two full glasses. He gave one to Crowning, who gulped it right down. Kelly bent over Moritz solicitously and held the glass to his lips. Slowly he sipped it all down. I motioned to Kelly to serve them again. They both said “Thank you” to Kelly as they swallowed their second drink.

We watched. Moritz was the first to fall asleep. Crowning almost fell out of his chair. I grabbed him in time, and eased him to the floor.

We hung around for fifteen minutes. The phone rang. I answered. It was Fitz and he was jubilant.

The goddamn contract is signed,” he shouted.

I said, “Fine; that's fine.”

He said, “Jimmy wants to speak to you.”

Jimmy said, “I want to thank you fellows for what you did for us.”

I said, “That's okay, Jim. It was nuthin.”

He said, “As soon as we get enough money in our treasury, I'll pay you back for the money you helped us out with.”

“It'll be taken care of, Jim,” I said. “Don't worry about it. We'll have one of our men as your secretary and treasurer.”

“Oh,” he said.

There was a world of surprise in his, “Oh.”

I said, “Hello, Jim; you still there?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“I'm sorry, Jim, but that's it. You got to live in a world of reality.”

“Okay,” he said, “I understand.”

“Let's go,” Max said.

We walked to the door. Max said, “How about we throw Kelly a few bucks?”

I shook my head.

“He did all right for himself,” I said.

“He did?” Max said.

“Yeh, look how,” I said.

We watched as Kelly went through the pockets of the firm of Crowning and Moritz.

It was showbreak on Broadway. We pushed through the matinee crowds streaming out of the theatres. We walked over to Hickory House for some thick steaks.

Maxie called the main office from the restaurant. Over the wire we got our orders to leave immediately for Chicago, “fully equipped.”

We hurried through our meal and rushed down in the Caddy to our downtown garage where we slung our rods and lead sprayer under the chassis.

At seven-thirty p.m., we were on our way. We took turns at the wheel, pushing the Caddy at a fast clip. We were at our rendezvous in Cicero by noon the next day. Mendy, Trigger, Muscles and the other Combination unit that left New York the same time we did, we beat by two hours.

We broke bread with Capone, Fischetti, Ricco, and Little Louie.

We sprayed and left our grisly mementos on a street corner of Chicago.

We did back to New York in seventeen hours and checked in at the Pennsylvania Hotel Baths. We slept there for fifteen hours.

At three a.m. I left Max, Pat and Cockeye at the Baths and took a cab. As I rode up Seventh into Broadway, I tried to figure out how many days I had been away. Four days since I had seen Eve, I thought to myself. I wondered if she had moved into my suite at the hotel. Did I care if she did or not, I asked myself. Yeh, sure I cared. It would be swell if she was there waiting for me. Jesus, I should have gotten her something. I felt like a husband coming home after a business trip.

But what a business trip that was. What a lousy, vicious business. For a fleeting moment I saw a picture of myself in Chicago. It wasn't pretty. Suddenly I was plagued by an awful moral doubt. For the first time my fog of rationalization was lifted. I wasn't the swashbuckling, derring-do figure I thought I was. In one fleeting moment the doubt turned into fear, into hysteria.

I plunged downward into a grotesque nightmare. The nightmare became more and more frenzied. A terrible mirage shimmered before my eyes: a mirage of puppets, dancing and screaming to the monotonous rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat as the lead sprayed up and down the line, until there was a deafening stillness. The stillness was worse than the screaming and the monotonous rat-a-tat, rat-a-tat. The stillness hit me in the stomach. I felt myself on the verge of—something. I felt sick. Deathly sick. I couldn't hold it. I puked all over the floor of the cab. When I got out at the entrance to my hotel, I gave the driver twenty bucks extra for his trouble.

I walked toward the desk for a key.

Sweeney, the house dick, intercepted me. After our exchange of greetings, he said, “That doll moved into your place. She's up there now.”

I said, “Yeh, okay, thanks, Sweeney.”

I picked up the key and went up. Quietly I let myself in. The place was dark. I felt my way into the bathroom. I washed and put on a fresh pair of pajamas.

I crept under the covers. A thrill shot into my heart. She was there. She wriggled close to me. She entwined herself all around me. She whispered, “Hello, Tootsie.”

I was sad and happy. She ran her fingers through my hair. I felt safe in her arms. I felt as if I was in a clean, sacred sanctuary.

She murmured, “Tootsie, say something.”

The only thing I could think of to say was, “Eve, I love you.”

She sighed and asked no other questions.

I had Eve quit her dancing job, and we spent most every day together. I marveled at my attachment. I could not believe I would be satisfied and happy with just her alone. But I was. I delighted in buying clothes and everything she desired for her.

Together we went to theaters, clubs, restaurants, the races. The more I saw of her, the more I genuinely admired and respected her. She had an interesting mind. She was intelligent and matter of fact about everything. She had been around. She knew the score. To me she was warm and affectionate. To others she maintained a hauteur that seemed to fit her personality. I admired the way she wore her clothes. Invariably she had a look of impeccable grooming.

I wasn't concerned about her past life. She in turn never pried or was overly curious about mine. I insisted that she discard that ridiculous bosom deceiver. I liked her as she was. She explained that the only reason she wore it was for her dancing career.

For months after that Chicago episode nothing eventful happened. Then we received word that Salvy and his partner, Willie, were getting troublesome to the union. We went over to their hangout at the Eden. They were defiant. They wouldn't listen to reason.

A few days later it happened. Salvy went berserk. He put young Jimmy, the delegate, in the hospital with a superficial ice pick wound. It was “suggested” we “ostracize” him and his partner.

I felt I had to get Eve out of the city, for two reasons: first, I didn't want her implicated in any way in case the Salvy eradication went wrong; second, for the way her presence affected me. Just the thought of her softened me up. Once she had told me about her home and parents in North Carolina. Now, I gave her two thousand dollars and sent her there on a visit.

The same afternoon we went up to the Eden, just to reconnoitre. We didn't expect to find Salvy or Willie. It was closed. There were too many passers-by, otherwise we would have broken the lock. We walked back up the steps and into the corner delicatessen store where we had sandwiches and potato salad.

While we were eating, I suggested, “Cockeye could take a run downtown and have Jake come up here with his keys.”

Maxie said, “Yep, I guess he'll be able to open that goddamn door. We'll wait here for you, Cockeye boy.”

Cockeye grumbled, gulped his sandwich and left.

A half-hour later, Cockeye came walking in followed by Jake the Goniff. He was grinning from ear to ear.

We followed Jake down to the locked door.

He took out his batch of master keys and went to work.

“The goddamn door is locked from the inside,” he whispered. “There must be somebody in the joint.”

He took out his pocketknife and opened a long thin blade. He pushed and twisted in the keyhole. We heard a key fall to the floor. Another five minutes' manipulation with his master keys, and the door swung open.

Max whispered after we got inside, “Lock it, Jake.”

It was pitch dark. We couldn't see a thing. I felt along the wall for switches or buttons. I found a wall button and whispered my information to Max.

He said, “Okay, get the hardware out.”

I pressed the button.

There we were. The five of us in the brilliantly lit room. Five guns facing the dance floor. The place was a shambles. Theodore, the Fairy, was lying on the floor, motionless. Pools of blood were all around him. Willie, the Ape, was lying to the right of the Fairy. His face was all battered in. Big Mike sat on a chair, a short bat in his hand. I looked closely at him. I thought he was in a drunken stupor. I shook him.

He looked at me with glazed eye.

“What happened, Mike?”

Maxie shook him again.

He didn't answer. He was in a cataleptic state from shock.

Maxie slapped him sharply across the face. That brought him around. He dropped the bat. He started to cry; long tears rolled down his cheeks. Then he began to blubber. “How did I ever get into this mess? How did I ever get into this business?” Tears of self-pity were pouring down his face. He stood up. He looked at us. “I was always an honest, law-abiding saloon keeper before Prohibition.” Loudly he wailed, “I went to church every Sunday.” He wrung his hands in despair. He sobbed violently. “Now I'm mixed up with killings and gangsters.”

He finished in a violent burst of fresh tears. His big shoulders shook with grief.

“Enough of that crap,” Maxie growled. “Tell us what happened.”

Mike didn't answer.

I said, “Look, Mike, get ahold of yourself. Did Salvy do that to the Fairy?”

Mike sat down and mumbled, “Yes, we were about to close—last night. The Fairy and I were counting our receipts. Salvy and Willie came in demanding five thousand dollars. The Fairy got excited. He scratched Salvy's face and told him to go to hell. Salvy went crazy, like he must have had a shot in the arm or something. He took out his ice pick and kept pushing it into poor Theodore. It was awful.”

Mike covered his face as if to shut the picture out of his sight.

“Okay, Mike, what happened to friend Willie here?” Max shook Mike by the shoulder.

“I don't know,” he replied vaguely. “I guess I went for the bat and started swinging. Is he dead?”

He looked at us fearfully.

I bent down and looked Willie over. “He's banged up pretty good, but he'll be okay I think.”

“Thank the Lord,” Mike murmured. “I was sitting here wondering what to do.” He looked at us hopefully. “What shall I do? I want to give this business up. I went to go out of this business. I can't stand it no more.”

Max and I looked at each other. I nodded and whispered, “Yeh, let's take the joint away from the shmuck.”

Max stood in front of Big Mike. “I'll tell you what I'll do for you, Mike. This is very irregular, for us to pay for a joint. You know that, don't you?”

“Yes, Maxie,” Mike answered. He looked at us nervously.

“We'll get rid of the Fairy. Don't worry, we'll give him a nice funeral. We'll take care of Willie here.” Maxie jarred him with his foot. “And you get five grand for the joint to boot, okay?”

Big Mike lifted his head sadly. “But—Maxie,” he whined. “The place cost us fifty grand.”

“Five grand will have to be okay,” Max said tersely.

“All right, Max,” Mike mumbled listlessly.

Maxie took his roll out and counted five thousand and handed it to Big Mike. I scribbled a rough bill of sale for everything on the premises. Mike signed it.

“Thanks, fellows,” he said. “Now I'm retired until Prohibition is over.”

For the first time Mike smiled.

“God forbid Prohibition should be over,” Cockeye said.

“Don't forget, Mike,” I cautioned. “Keep your mouth shut.”

“You fellows know I don't talk,” Mike said.

“Yeh, you're okay, Mike,” I said.

“Can I go now?” Mike asked.

“Yep, you can go now,” Max said.

Big Mike, with a sigh of relief, went lumbering to the exit.

At the door he waved, “Thanks, fellas. So long.”

Jake unlocked the door for him.

Later that afternoon, we wrapped the Fairy up in a rug. Cockeye went for Klemy's truck and took him to the funeral parlors. Pete, the printer, made out the necessary forms, and we gave Theodore, the Fairy, a nice funeral.

We revived Willie and took him to Eddie's Hotel. There a doctor fixed him up.

“Why bother with the bastard?” Cockeye asked. “I thought we were going to dump him.”

“We may need him for bait,” I explained. “Well treat the Ape real friendly for awhile.”

The Eden opened as usual that night. We informed the entertainers and the help that we had bought the place, and everything would continue as before.

I told Fat Moe to relay all messages to the Eden, which would be our temporary hangout.