Read A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952) Online

Authors: Harold Robbins

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A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952) (37 page)

BOOK: A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952)
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I leaned my head back against the seat and looked at him with half-closed eyes. He wasn’t a young man, I could see the fringes of grey hair peeping out from beneath his hat. “Thanks, mister,” I said.

“That’s all right, son,” he said slowly. “It’s what I’d expect any human to do for another.”

I closed my eyes wearily. He was wrong. Some humans didn’t even have the faintest trace of what he expected them to have. The quiet clicking of the windshield-wipers was a very soothing sound. My thoughts began to come slower. Sam wasn’t like that. Sam didn’t give a damn who you were. Sam thought only about himself.

I was getting too big. Perhaps Sam didn’t like that. After all, I had latched on to this racket right under his nose. He hadn’t wanted it then, but that didn’t matter. Now he knew what he had missed and he had made up his mind to get the whole thing back. And he had it back. There was nothing I could do about it, either.

Nothing? I began to wonder, anger seeping into me. That was where Sam was wrong. I had worked too hard to give up this easy. I was through being his patsy. He’d pay for this. I’d been a fool to sucker for a set-up like this anyhow, but it wasn’t over yet. He’d find out. The anger had brought a curious warmth into me and I began to doze.

I felt a hand on my arm and I woke quickly. I looked around. We were just coming on to the West Side Highway.

The man looked at me. “Feeling better?” he asked.

I nodded silently. My headache had gone.

“Where can I drop you?”

I gave him my address. “If it’s not out of your way,” I added.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I pass there on my way home.”

It was a quarter after three when we pulled up in front of my house. I got out of the car and turned back to the driver. “Thanks, again, mister,” I said. “I won’t ever forget this.”

“That’s okay, son,” he answered. “Like I said—any human being.”

Then, before I realized it, he had put the car into gear and drove off. I stared after the car. I had forgotten to even ask his name. Funny world. Someone you know all your life tries to kick your teeth in, and a man you never saw before and will never see again comes along and saves your life.

I watched the car until it turned the corner out of sight; then I turned and walked into the house. The superintendent was sweeping out the hall. He gaped at me, his mouth open. I guess I did make a hell of a picture. My face was all cut from the beating I had taken, and my clothes were filthy from the ditch.

“The van’s gone already, Mr. Fisher,” he told me. “Your wife waited around as long as she could. She was very upset, but your brother-in-law told her to go ahead.”

“My brother-in-law was here?” I asked in a husky voice.

He nodded. “He came down when your wife called him. Her brother was here already, but she was still worried about you.” He looked up at me curiously. “Your brother-in-law gave me a message for you if you showed up.”

“What?” I asked.

“He said for you to see him, he’d be in his office.” He smiled slightly. “Your brother-in-law sure is a nice guy all right. He seemed worried about you, too. Mine don’t care whether I live or die.”

“Thanks,” I said succinctly, and left the house. Sam worried about me all right. Ninety grand worth of worry. No, two hundred grand, now that he’d taken the whole pot. No wonder he showed up when Nellie called him.

I walked round the corner and grabbed a cab up to his office.

I went past Sam’s secretary without waiting for her to announce me. I opened the door and stepped into his office, closing the door behind me.

He was just putting the telephone down when he looked up and saw me. He held it suspended in the air while his eyes swept over me from head to foot. “Where the hell have you been?” he finally roared,
putting down the telephone. “I was just gonna put the cops on your tail.”

Something in his voice hit me the wrong way; it made the hair on the back of my neck crackle. “What’s the matter, Sam?” I asked in a husky voice. “Didn’t you expect me?”

He got up from behind his desk and came toward me. I could feel his heavy footsteps in the floor beneath my feet. “You give a guy ninety grand an’ he don’t show when he’s supposed to, what do you think?” he said roughly. “I thought you powdered with the dough.”

If it wasn’t me that was catching the wrong end of the stick, I could almost admire the way he operated. He played it rough, too, adding insult to injury. He was everything I thought I could be, but now I knew I had a long way to go. I stared at him. He wasn’t fooling me any more, though. I’d had enough of that.

“You know I wouldn’t do that, Sam,” I said softly. “You know me better’n that.”

He stared at me for a moment and then turned back to his chair and sat down. His dark eyes glittered. “How would I know?” he demanded. “Ninety grand is a lot of moolah. Maybe you were getting tired of your wife and wanted to blow town. You could have a dozen reasons that I don’t know about.”

My eyes locked with his and stared him down. “You just don’t trust nobody, do you, Sam?” I asked softly.

He looked down at his desk. “I don’t make a livin’ from trustin’ jokers,” he answered. He glanced up at me again, his eyes bright and sharp. “Where are the butts?” he asked.

I shrugged my shoulders. “I don’t know,” I answered simply. The wrong guy was asking the question. I’d bet he knew the answer.

He sprang to his feet angrily. “What d’yuh mean yuh don’t know?” he roared. “What happened?”

I could admire this guy. He didn’t miss a trick. “I was tooken,” I answered quietly, studying his face for any flicker of knowledge. “I got hijacked on the way and dumped in a ditch. I’m damn’ lucky to be alive.”

He went right down the line with this act. “I should’ve known better’n to give yuh ninety grand like that!” he shouted.

I smiled at him bitterly. “What’re you yellin’ about, Sam?” I asked quietly. “You lost nothin’ on the deal. It was me who got cleaned. You got the whole business now.”

“Who the hell wanted it?” he roared. “I need it like I need a
hole in the head. I got enough troubles. I’d rather have the ninety grand!”

That, I thought, was the first false note he struck. He was hollering too much for a guy who wasn’t hurt. “You sure, Sam?” I asked.

He stared at me, his eyes suddenly cautious. “Sure I’m sure,” he said quickly. “Now I’m stuck with the damn thing an’ you besides. I gotta have you to run it. I won’t know what to worry about first. How much you’re gonna be clippin’ me for or how the damn’ thing will do? I’d’ve been better off doin’ business with Maxie Fields instead of a punk like you. At least he’s got an
organization
.”

I stared at him for a moment before I answered. The thought kept getting bigger in my mind. That was the second idea that
someone
had fed me in as many days. But this one was involuntary. “That’s an idea, Sam,” I said gently. “That’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

His mouth fell open and he was staring at me as I turned and walked out of his office. I could hear him roaring for me to come back as I walked past his secretary and out the front door. There was an elevator waiting and I got in. The doors closed and we began to drop down.

By the time I hit the street, I was sure I had it figured. Sam thought he had found a way to have his cake and eat it. But he was wrong. I would turn the cake into dirt in his mouth.

The same old sign was on the window: “
FIELDS CHECK CASHING
SERVICE
.” The same old dirt was on the streets. Nothing had change. Nothing would ever change down here. I pushed open the door and went in.

A man behind the cage looked up at me. “Yes, sir?” he asked.

“Is Maxie Fields around?” I asked.

The man’s expression changed subtly. “Who wants to see him?”

“Danny Fisher,” I said harshly. “Tell him I got a hundred grand wrap-up. He’ll see me.”

He picked up a phone and pressed a buzzer. He whispered into the phone, then looked up at me again. “Through that door,” he said, pointing to the back.

“I know the way,” I tossed back over my shoulder as I moved toward the door. It closed behind me and I was standing in the hallway. I stared up the staircase, then began to climb it slowly.

He was standing in the doorway when I reached the landing. His hard eyes were shining blackly in his round face as he watched me. His body blocked the entrance to the apartment. “What’s on yer mind, Danny?” he asked as I drew near him.

I stared back into his eyes. “Yuh still like money, Maxie?”

He nodded his head slowly.

“Then I got a bundle for yuh,” I said quickly. “But let’s go inside. I can’t do business in the hall.”

He stepped back into the room and I walked past him. The
apartment
hadn’t changed either. It was still a lush joint. I heard the door close and turned around to face him.

“How about a drink, Maxie?” I asked.

His eyes studied my face; then he turned and roared into the next room: “Ronnie! Bring two set-ups.” Without waiting for a reply, he walked around me and sat down behind his desk. He sat down heavily. The only sound in the room was his breathing. After a moment he looked up at me. “What’s the deal, Danny?”

I sat down in the chair opposite him. Footsteps came into the room behind me. I looked around.

Ronnie was carrying two glasses in her hands. For a moment she didn’t see me, then an expression of surprise crossed her face. Her mouth opened as if she was going to speak, but it snapped shut quickly. Silently she placed the two glasses on the corner of Maxie’s desk and started out of the room.

He called her back, his eyes glittering. “You remember our friend Danny, don’t you?” he asked sarcastically.

She looked at him for a moment, then at me. Her eyes were dull and beaten. For a moment something flickered deep inside them, but only for a moment and then it was gone. Her voice was flat and lifeless. “I remember,” she said. “Hello, Danny.”

The years had changed her little outwardly. She looked much the same. But the spirit had gone, it had vanished and been beaten by the oppression of time. “Hello, Ronnie,” I said quietly. I remembered it had been just like this the last time I had been here, but then I hadn’t been looking for him; he had been looking for me.

He wasn’t content to leave well enough alone. He had to rub it in, he had to make the most of his triumph. “Danny’s come back to make a deal with me,” he said, a note of power showing in his voice. “
Nobody
can keep away from Maxie Fields, baby. That’s what I always said.”

There was no expression in her voice. “Yes, Maxie.” She turned and started from the room again, but he called her back.

“Sit down, Ronnie,” he said roughly. “Sit down and keep us company.”

Obediently she dropped into a chair near him. She sat there stiffly like an automaton, no emotion visible on her face.

He turned to me and picked up his drink. “Now, Danny,” he said heavily.

I picked up my drink and sipped at it. It tasted good and the liquor warmed my belly. I held up the glass and looked at him through it. “A hundred grand worth of butts,” I said simply.

He put his drink down without having touched it and leaned forward. “What about them?” he asked.

“They’re all yours,” I said quietly, putting my drink down beside his. “If you do me a favour.”

He drew in a deep breath. “I know you, Danny,” he wheezed hoarsely. “You give ice away in the winter. Besides, where do yuh get this stuff?”

“I got it,” I said. “Listen.” Step by step I told him the whole story—how I latched on to the butts, how I lost them. When I was finished, I could see he was interested.

“How’re you gonna get them back?” he asked.

“I’m taking over Sam’s business,” I said confidently.

Caution jumped like yellow traffic lights into his eyes. “How do you figger?”

“Simple,” I answered. I was as cold as ice. “Remember what we talked about the day I drove you down from Lombardi’s? Remember what you said?”

Maxie nodded slowly. “I remember.” His eyes watched me
carefully.
“But is anything going to happen to him?” he asked.

I picked up the drink again, shrugging my shoulders. “You tell me.”

“No, Danny!” There was a terrified sound in Ronnie’s voice. I turned in surprise to look at her. Her eyes were suddenly alive in her face. “You can’t do that! Sam was the only—”

Maxie’s voice cut her off. “Shut up, Ronnie!” he roared fiercely.

She turned to him, a frightened expression on her face. “Maxie, you gotta tell him—”

There was a movement from behind me, and Spit was standing at her side. I hadn’t even heard him come into the room.

“Get her outta here!” Maxie roared.

Spit reached quickly for her hand, but she evaded his grasp and fled from the room, her hands over her face.

Maxie was breathing heavily when he turned back to me. He waved Spit to the chair she had just left. He stared at me for a moment. There was a greedy ring to his voice when he finally spoke. “How do I know you’ll pay off?” he asked. “Yuh don’t even know for sure if he’s got ’em.”

“Let me use your phone for a minute an’ we’ll know,” I answered.

He nodded and I picked up the phone and dialled Sam’s warehouse. Good thing I had worked for him; I knew everybody there.

A voice I thought I recognized answered the phone.

“Joe?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he answered. “Who is it?”

“Danny Fisher,” I said quickly. “I’m checkin’ if my truck got in there yet. The big trailer from upstate.”

“Sure, Danny,” Joe answered. “We’re unloadin’ it now.”

“Okay, Joe. Thanks.” I put down the phone and turned to Maxie. He had heard the conversation. “Satisfied?” I asked.

His eyes were shining. I could see the dollar signs in them. “I get the whole load?” he asked.

“You heard me,” I answered. “The whole load.”

“Fair enough,” he wheezed, struggling to his feet. “Spit and the Collector and me will cover the job ourselves. Before the night is over, the whole thing’ll be cleaned up.”

“Stay away from this guy, boss, he’s poison!” Spit’s voice was angry. He was on his feet, staring at Maxie.

BOOK: A Stone for Danny Fisher (1952)
11.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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