The Peddler (8 page)

In a telephone conversation with Angelo he asked for and received a little more freedom in switching around the girls in his district and working on the houses. Angelo was agreeable—as long as it didn’t cost him any money. Tony assured him the reverse would probably be true—and hinted, subtly, that he’d had to go ahead on his own because Sharkey … well, Sharkey didn’t seem much interested. Tony got the O.K. At his own expense he hired a capable photographer who needed the money badly enough to give Tony a ridiculously low price, and he had photographs taken of all the prostitutes in his houses in two poses: in evening clothes or street clothes, and nude. Four-by-five glossy prints went into his own file, and others went into cheap albums containing pictures of the girls in each particular house.

Tony started this in only three houses at first. In two of them there hadn’t been liquor. He arranged for drinks to be made available. He put in dimmer lights—blue mostly— in the parlors and rooms, bought cheap record players that played soft music. In those three houses he instructed the girls to be more “ladylike,” in his own words: “Don’t waltz up and grab the guy, see?” Two copies of the albums were displayed in the parlor. A man could come in, talk to the girls if he wanted to, or be left alone while he had a highball and pored over the album. Tony had a hunch that some of the customers damn near got their kicks simply from the pictures. A man could select from the photos any girl he wanted and get her immediately if she was unoccupied, in a few minutes if she was busy. Naturally this cost a little more.

Business, instead of falling off, picked up. Tony figured it was much like buying a suit in this respect: a lot of guys, when confronted with identical suits, one at fifty dollars and one at a hundred, would figure the hundred-dollar suit must be better, and pay an extra fifty bucks for it even though it had exactly the same texture, fit, feel and appearance.

Naturally the girls changed from one house to another and one district to another, and new girls were coming in all the time, but at the end of a year Tony had an active file of over a thousand girls, complete with detailed written information and photos.

He still heard occasional rumbles about Sharkey and from Ginny he learned Sharkey himself was nervous and worried for the first time, and now Tony managed to see Swan again. There wasn’t anything unusual about that; Tony managed to see him every time the guy got into town. This afternoon they had a late lunch at The Blue Fox, in an alley across from the City Morgue.

After their usual conversation over coffee and a highball, Tony said, “Looks kind of like Shark’s goin’ to pieces, huh?”

Swan lit a cigarette before answering. “What makes you say that, Tony?”

“Christ, it’s no secret. He’s a lush, anyway; you know that yourself.”

“He likes the stuff, all right. That’s what you meant?”

“Partly. But hell. Swan, you know he’s no goddamn good to Angelo. He sits on his fat up there in the Arlington, throws a brawl once in a while. I’ll bet he don’t know what’s goin’ on ten feet from his butt. Let me ask you something, Swan. Angelo’s about fed up with him, isn’t he?”

Swan slowly grinned. “Tony, I see through you like you were glass. I always have.”

Tony grinned back. “So O.K. I never tried to be no mystery man. But I’m right.”

“Maybe, but what if you are?”

“Sharkey can’t last forever. I’m the best man Angelo’s got.”

“Kid, you been in this racket a little over a year. There’s guys been with Angelo five, ten years. Look at Castiglio, for instance. He’s had the same job xmder Sharkey for five years now.”

“Yeah, and he’s just the type to stay right where he is another fifty. He’s got no ambition. No initiative. Christ, no brainl The last three months I’ve jumped the gross in my district ten percent.”

Swan showed interest, then he frowned. “That’s funny. Angelo didn’t mention—” he stopped. Then he said, “How’d you manage that, kid?”

Tony told him briefly about what he’d done. Swan pursed his lips and nodded. “Good enough, Tony. You didn’t do it for love of the girls, now, did you?”

“You know why I did it.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You can help me, Swan. You’re closer to Angelo than anybody else.”

Swan thought for a few seconds, then he said slowly, “I did help you once, Tony. I helped you get started. But you’ve only been working for Angelo a year or so. Hell, kid, you’re still only—^what is it, twenty-two?”

“Couple months I’ll be twenty-two.”

“Remember what I told you last time? About going too fast?”

“Remember what I told you then, Swan?”

“I’m still right, kid. And something else: you don’t deserve anything more yet. You—”

Tony broke in almost angrily, “Don’t give me that. Do you deserve to be a State Senator?”

Swan flushed and Tony went on rapidly, “I don’t mean nothing personal. Swan; you know that. But don’t give me this noise about I don’t deserve nothin’ because I only been working a year or so. You know I got more on the ball than these other slobs. You might as well try to tell me the guy that’s been in the Army longest oughta be Chief of Staff, or the guy’s been in politics longest oughta be President, or the guy’s been goin’ to church longest oughta be Pope. Hell, I seen guys could make doughnuts all their life and never learn where the holes go. What the hell does how long you been doin’ a thing got to do with how good you do it? Don’t give me no ‘seniority’ bull, neither—”

Swan interrupted, waving his hand. “Whoa, kid. Don’t go through the roof. I’ll be damned, a speech. I don’t often get to see you so wound up.” Then his face sobered. “I’ll tell you something, kid. Tell you why I don’t think you’re right for Sharkey’s job yet—and that’s what we’re talking about.” He frowned. “Tony, you’re a hell of a likable kid; I’ve always liked seeing you around, talking to you. If I didn’t, I’d kick your teeth in. Because the truth is, you’re a bastard. You’re a self-centered, individualistic, smart, cocky bastard. I think you’d blow up the world if you thought it’d do you some good. You’d pimp for your wife—if you had one, which I doubt you ever will—or your mother, if there was enough money in it. Look, kid. Shark and Angelo have a lot of power, whether you realize it or not; neither of them abuse it. I’m afraid you would once you got a real taste, a real feel of it.”

Tony was quiet for a moment. “The hell with it,” he said. He waved for more drinks. He changed the subject, but when Swan looked at his watch fifteen minutes later, as if getting ready to go, Tony said, “Say, Swan, forget that State Senator crack. Didn’t mean nothin’.”

“I know it.”

“You know,” Tony said conversationally, “Fm just now gettin’ used to you Ijein’ in the Legislature. Man, when I think of all the jobs you used to have me do when I was a kid. Didn’t nobody ever try shakin’ you down about that unpolitical background?”

“No. Not many know about it. You do, of course. An-gelo. The gal I used to shack up with back then. A few others. Naturally my wife knows about it.”

Tony shook his head. “Well, I guess you been lucky word about your old days never leaked out. Right, Senator? I imagine they got lots worse records in the Legislature than yours, though.”

“Uh-huh. Some would really surprise you.” Swan looked at Tony, not speaking for a while, then he said, “Well, I’ve got to get moving. Thanks for the meal.”

“Forget it. You going to see Angelo?”

“I’ll see him again before I leave tomorrow.”

“Well, I sure wish you’d tell him what a great guy I am. But, I guess you know what you’re doin’. Swan.” He grinned as they got up from the table.

Swan said quietly, “I’ll think about it. You’re positive your business has picked up quite a bit?”

“Sure I am. Why?”

“Nothing.” They walked to the front of the restaurant. As they separated to go in opposite directions Swan shook Tony’s hand and said, “Sometimes I wish I didn’t understand you so well.”

“Huh? What’s that mean?”

“Nothing much. I just wish I didn’t know how big a bastard you really are. Well, see you, kid.”

“So long, Swan.”

The next day Tony went to Leo’s apartment in the Strand and spent an hour with him. The last half hour of conversation was the important part from Tony’s viewpoint.

He started it by saying, “There’s a noise that Sharkey’s about out, Leo. That should make you happy.”

“What you mean?”

“Well, if the Shark goes out, who goes in? Somebody has to take over Shark’s spot. You’re the only man in sight.”

Leo got out a cigarette and tapped it against his thumbnail. “You think so?”

“There’s only you and Hamlin left that got important spots —^besides me. You been under Shark for five years now. Two more than Hamlin. Who you think would take over?”

“I hadn’t thought a hell of a lot about it.” Leo’s thin face brightened a little. “Wonder how much Shark drags down.”

“I dunno. But I’ll bet he makes close to half-milUon a year.”

Leo whistled, blinked his dark eyes rapidly. “That’s a pile. I tried to figure it a few times; he must drag down a helluva mess.”

“Yeah.” Tony frowned. “But the way it’s goin’, Shark might last for years—unless somebody needles that Angelo. Hell, he’s so far up in that office building of his, he don’t know what goes on down here. He probably don’t know how close Shark is to goin’ clear off his nut.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe, hell. Who’s told him? Shark? Somebody oughta put a bug in Angelo’s ear—in the interest of the business. I imagine Angelo would like to know it; oughta appreciate getting the lowdown.” He paused. “Maybe I’ll give him a ring myself.”

“You think he ought to be told, huh?”

“What do you think, Leo? Put yourself in Angelo’s spot. Wouldn’t you appreciate a little tip that the number-one guy under you was about off his rocker, drinking like a fish, maybe—maybe even gettin’ his accounts messed up a little?” He shrugged. “Hell, Angelo probably got a fair idea, but no real lowdown.”

“What you mean about accounts?”

“Just a stab in the dark. Funny thing. I saw Swan yesterday and mentioned business picked up in my district—you know, one of those periodic up-and-down swings—and it seemed to surprise Swan. I guess Angelo didn’t know nothin’ about it. I don’t figure it. I don’t suppose Shark would hold out on the Top.”

“No,” Leo said. “Don’t seem likely.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, then Tony got up. “Guess I’ll blow. Take a sleep before I start around tonight.”

Leo took him to the door. “You think you’ll put a bug in Angelo’s ear?”

“I dunno. I don’t know him too good—you know him better’n I do. Probably wouldn’t hurt none. Well, I gotta beat it, Leo. How about lunch tomorrow?”

“O.K. One at the Domino, O.K.r

“See you at one, Leo.”

Angelo looked up. “Hello, Tony. Sit down.”

Tony sat down in a chair at the end of the desk. This was the fourth time he’d been up here; once when Angelo told him he was taking over Alterie’s spot—fourteen months ago now—then a couple of times in the next six months on business matters that Angelo wanted to talk to Tony about. But this was the first time Tony had been here for several months.

Angelo blinked his yellowish eyes and looked at Tony. “My reports, and the ones you’ve sent me, show your district is doing quite well, Tony. I remember our phone conversation about a few changes you wished to make, but I’d like you to tell me exactly what you’ve done.”

Angelo got out a black cigar and lighted it, then stuck it into his puckered mouth. Tony was thinking that Angelo knew damn well everything he’d done, but he started talking anyway.

“In the last four months the gross from my district has gone up fifteen and a half percent.” Tony had hired an accountant for two days, given him a pile of figures, and learned about his own business in terms of percentages. He went on, “The organization’s net for the district went up fourteen and two tenths percent in the same period—I had to spend a little money. Part of the reason for the net being almost as much as the gross is that we didn’t have to pay any more protection. Maybe that’ll change, I don’t know about that. Also—”

Angelo interrupted. “Have you any idea what’s happened in the other two districts in the same period?”

Tony almost smiled. He’d been nervous about this conversation, but he’d planned what he’d say. “Yes, sir. Leo’s went down four percent, Hamlin’s three.”

“Then part of your increase was from the other areas.”

“Yes, sir. But only a small part. Less than half, because my district’s the biggest grosser; always was. Except for the phone stuff.”

Angelo didn’t say anything. He sat quietly behind his desk. The quiet lasted so long that finally Tony said, “Mr. Angelo, those three houses I mentioned, those were the only ones I made specials. Before I went any farther, I figured I’d better ask what you thought about it. There’s several other things I’d like to do, too, you figure it’s O.K.”

“What things, Tony?”

“One thing, it seems like we don’t have no special house for the nutty characters. Some of these guys go to the regular places—but we’re not really set up for that. I was thinking maybe a special house, just set aside for them guys, might make a hundred thousand a year, maybe a quarter million.”

He stopped, wondering what Angelo would say. Angelo took the cigar from his mouth and stared at it. “You’ve given this quite a bit of thought, I take it.”

“Yes, sir. I got a file on most of the girls, and I know just the ones would be perfect for a place like that. I even looked over a place out on Army Street you could probably get real cheap.” Tony swallowed. This was the first time he’d ever mentioned to anybody that he was keeping a file on the prostitutes. He hoped to God Angelo would ask him about it now that it had slipped, apparently casually, into the conversation. If not, he’d have to mention it again himself.

But Angelo looked at Tony. “What fiile is this? What kind of file?”

“I got a file on about twelve hundred girls we got now, or worked for us. Card file with almost everything about them—what kind of tricks they turn, looks, how much they make and so on. And the pictures like in them three houses I mentioned.”

Angelo frowned. “Why didn’t I know about this, Mr. Romero?”