Cogan's Trade (10 page)

“Why’d you say that about Danvers?” Barry said.

“Because he goes there,” Steve said. “There’s this club he goes to some times, up in Danvers. He goes over the Beach, too. The guy gets around.”

“Ginny’s ma lives in Danvers,” Barry said.

“I doubt he fucked Ginny’s ma, Barry,” Steve said. “You wanna know, though, I’ll call her up and ask her for you.”

“Some day I’m gonna break your fuckin’ long nose for you, Steve,” Barry said.

Trattman, wearing a mouse-colored, double-breasted overcoat, emerged from the Lobster Tail with a dark-haired woman in her forties. He raised his right arm, using his left hand to guide her toward the curb. An attendant in a snorkel coat pulled up in a tan Coupe de Ville. Trattman opened the passenger door for the woman as the attendant got out on the driver’s side. Trattman closed the passenger door and walked around the front of the car. He handed a folded bill to the attendant. The attendant said: “Thanks,” with no sign of recognition. Trattman got into the Cadillac.

Steve and Barry got into Steve’s metallic blue LTD hardtop, black vinyl roof, and shut the doors.

The Coupe de Ville headed east on Boylston Street. It crossed the intersections at Hereford, Gloucester, Fairfield and Exeter streets on green lights. Steve kept the LTD three car lengths back, one lane to the right. He went through the Fairfield and Exeter intersections on yellow lights.

“This isn’t a bad car either,” Barry said.

“You ever decide,” Steve said, “stop fuckin’ around and
do
something, you can get something for yourself instead of bitching all the time about how everybody else’s got something and you don’t.”

“Fuck you,” Barry said. “Last month I hadda lay out close to two hundred and fifty bucks for the fuckin’ dentist. Every time I get a couple bucks ahead, something comes along to fuck it up.”

The Cadillac stopped for a red light at Dartmouth Street.

“I must be gettin’ old,” Steve said. “All my friends’re having trouble with their teeth. Jackie was telling me, his wife’s all hot and bothered, she’s gotta have, what’re those things, root canals. ‘Which is gonna set me back about nine hundred bucks, I suppose, I’m through.’ I didn’t know stuff like that cost so much.”

The light at Dartmouth changed and the Cadillac moved forward. The woman in the Cadillac moved closer to Trattman.

“He’s telling her what he’s gonna do to her now,” Steve said.

“The thing that really did it to me,” Barry said, “you know what that son of a bitch whacked me for Maine? Five hundred a day and expenses. I hadda pay him almost thirty-nine hundred dollars. Plus what I hadda give him before, a thousand, take the case in the first place.”

The Cadillac had green lights at Clarendon and Berkeley. The Caprio car went through on yellow.

“That’s because you’re a stupid shit,” Steve said. “No asshole inna world would’ve gone up there the way you did. You, you haven’t got no complaint. I think he did all right by you. You had anybody else, you would’ve gotten hooked again.”

The Cadillac stopped for a red light at Arlington Street.

“I’m not putting the hammer on Mike,” Barry said. “He’s just expensive, is all.”

The light changed and Steve followed the Cadillac, turning right on Arlington Street. A man in a light gray Chesterfield, carrying a briefcase, crossed the street in front of the LTD, walking fast and catching up with a
tall albino man who wore a lavender cape lined with red satin, and platform shoes. Steve Caprio changed lanes to the right and closed the distance between the LTD and the Cadillac.

“Looks like he’s going down the Envoy,” Steve said. “Must’ve got a cheap one this time, gotta pay for it himself. No, I was just saying, ah, it’s the same thing. You just fuck around too much. You did something, you could get something. You don’t see me or Jackie going up to Maine and being stupid like that, chasing guys around when they’re staying with their families and stuff.”

“Well,” Barry said, “he wasn’t gonna pay. He took the dough off of Bloom and then he wasn’t gonna pay it back. Bloom hadda get his dough outa the guy. You can’t go around letting guys get away with stuff like that.”

The Cadillac moved into the left lane at the Statler Hilton and turned left.

“No, he’s not going down the Envoy,” Steve said. “He’s going down the Terrace. She must have some dough after all. Sure, and Bloom gets his dough, and you get, what’d Bloom give you for that shitty thing?”

“Six hundred,” Barry said. “I needed the dough. Ginny was starting to get the caps, there, and that was the first time I hadda pay.”

“Six hundred,” Steve said. “So, you only lost about thirty-two, forty-two hundred on it. Bloom give you what Mike cost you?”

“Nope,” Barry said.

The Cadillac went into the Terrace Hotel garage.

“Nope,” Steve said. “You ask him for it?”

“Nope,” Barry said.

“Sure,” Steve said. He parked the LTD half a block
from the garage and turned off the ignition. “So, you almost go to jail again, and you spent on that what I spent on this car. That’s what I mean. Sooner or later you’re gonna have to start picking your spots, like I do. Otherwise you’re gonna spend the rest of your life tryin’ to get out of things that you shouldn’t’ve got into in the first place, and you’re never gonna have nothin’.”

“Look,” Barry said, “okay, you got all this talk and shit for me, lemme ask you this: you’re doing so good, how come you’re still going out and beating guys up, huh?”

“It’s not the money,” Steve said. “You wanna see how much money I got on me, right this minute?” He moved on the seat, reaching for his wallet.

“No,” Barry said.

Steve relaxed. “I got twenty-one hundred bucks on me right this minute,” he said. “I don’t owe nickel one on this car and I sent Rita’s check to her the other day. No, I’m doing a favor for a guy. This thing come up, Jackie’s done some things for me when I couldn’t do them.…”

“Jackie don’t beat guys up,” Barry said.

“No,” Steve said, “but there’s things that Jackie does do, you know? There’s other things inna world that guys do besides going around and doing things to other guys, Barry. You wouldn’t know that because the only thing you ever thought about was how you could grab a fast hundred and never mind what you’re doing on the long run. Jackie gimme that thing, when he was getting away from the machines he had in the locations on Route 9, there. He didn’t have to do that.”

“He couldn’t handle it himself, though,” Barry said.

“No, he couldn’t,” Steve said. “But he didn’t have to give it to me. He didn’t have to say to the guys, ‘Now,
I want you to give this thing to Stevie, he’s a good guy.’ But he did. So, if Jackie asks me to do him a favor, and I can get a fast hundred out of it for my dumb brother, I’m gonna do it.”

“I can use the dough,” Barry said. He lit a Winchester cigar.

“Why’re you smoking those fucking things?” Steve said.

“Because they’re not gonna kill me as fast,” Barry said.

Steve lit an L&M. “Well,” he said, “you inhale them, don’t you?”

“Some times I forget and then I do,” Barry said. “Not very often, though. It’s like swallowing fuckin’ fire when you do it.”

“Sure,” Steve said, “and you’re not gonna tell me, there isn’t more shit in them’re these.”

“Shit,” Barry said, “I mean, how long’ve we been smoking?”

“I started when I was twelve,” Steve said.

“Okay,” Barry said, “and I was a big asshole then just like I am now, I did everything you told me to do, so I was eleven. So, I mean, I been smoking close to thirty years, it’s probably not gonna make much difference now anyway. Ginny was after me about it, I smoked them Omegas for a while. I did them, and then there was that other kind of thing there.”

“Between the Acts,” Steve said. “I can’t figure them things out, I never could. They smell just like anything else, when you’re the guy that’s smoking them. But when you’re the guy that’s with the guy that’s smoking them, you’d swear the bastard spent the whole day burning a cat or something.”

“Yeah,” Barry said. “So, I didn’t have any cigarettes
for over a year now, except when I was up in Maine, there. I had about twenny packs of Luckies in them three days, I can tell you that. But except for that, I been using these things. I don’t feel no better, though. I thought I would. Them guys that’re try in’ to put you guys out of business all the time, you think you’re gonna feel better if you stop. Ginny told me that too. But I don’t. I just eat more. Some day they’re gonna say you can’t sell the fuckin’ things any more. That’s what’s gonna happen.”

“Never happen,” Steve said. “Look, how many guys are there, you think, can go back and forth like you do? Huh? Maybe two. They’re not gonna do that. Shit, they did the same thing with booze. They do it and, well, look, they think they’re taxing them now, right? How much taxes you think me and Jackie pay on that stuff, huh? So you think, they can’t get the taxes on what they’re letting me sell, you think they’re gonna, they’re gonna be able to stop me from selling them? I pay on about one third of the stuff I sell. Just enough so it’s not too fuckin’ easy for them, a kid could catch me doing it. And nobody looks at the bottom of them things. So, and they know I’m doing it, and guys’re doing it, and they know they can’t stop me and they also know, if they didn’t let guys sell them at all, they couldn’t do it.”

“Jesus,” Barry said, “it takes this fucker long enough, don’t it?”

“Well,” Steve said, “you got to allow the guy a certain amount of time, you know. I asked Jackie. I said, ‘Great, the guy’s gonna get laid and I’m gonna wait around all night for Christ sake.’ Jackie says, no, he don’t stay out late. He gets what he wants and then he goes home. Never stays out past one.”

“I still think it’s kind of nice of us,” Barry said, “letting
the guy get his rocks off like this. Probably how he stays in so good shape.”

“He’s a fairly smart bastard,” Steve said.

“Not tonight he’s not gonna be,” Barry said.

“Well,” Steve said, “I mean, and that’s the kind of guy he is too, like about the broads, there. He’s not smart enough, he doesn’t marry any of them. Some times he’s not smart. And the same thing with the games there, see? Most of the time he runs a good game and all, and everybody’s happy and that’s when he’s being smart. He’s not making any noise and he’s only taking guys that want to get taken and he don’t kill it, you know? He don’t take them for a lot. And he don’t talk about how he’s taking them. No, he just sometimes, it seems like every so often he’s gotta take everybody for everything, and that’s the same thing.”

The Coupe de Ville paused at the garage exit and Steve started the LTD. The Cadillac went down a short street and turned west on Kneeland Street. Steve put the LTD in drive and went east on Kneeland Street. In the rearview mirror of the LTD the taillights of the Cadillac receded into Park Square.

“You’re sure he’s going home,” Barry said.

“Yup,” Steve said. “He’s just too fuckin’ cheap, take the Turnpike.”

Steve kept the LTD in the middle lane on the Massachusetts Turnpike and did not exceed sixty-five miles per hour. The LTD reached the Allston exit in less than seven minutes. Steve threw change into the tollgate basket and turned right on Cambridge Street. At eleven-fifty he parked the LTD beside a hydrant on Sheridan Street in Brighton and shut the ignition off.

“All right,” he said, “it’s the third brick one down there on the left.”

“The one with the yellow Chev,” Barry said.

“The next one,” Steve said.

“No driveway,” Barry said.

“Right,” Steve said. “Cheap bastard parks on the street.”

At nine minutes past midnight the Cadillac moved slowly by the LTD. Steve and Barry eased down on the seats.

At twenty minutes past twelve the Cadillac moved slowly past the LTD. Steve said: “If he comes by once more I’m gonna move and give him this place.”

At twelve thirty-five, Trattman walked up Sheridan Street, approaching the LTD from the rear, on the same side of the street. When he got to the rear bumper of the LTD, Steve said: “Now.”

Barry and Steve got out of the LTD. Barry said: “Right there.”

Trattman stopped. He frowned. He said: “You guys, you guys …”

Steve pointed a thirty-eight Chiefs Special, two-inch barrel, at Trattman. He said: “Get inna car, Markie.”

Trattman said: “You, I haven’t got no money on me, you guys. I don’t, you guys, I haven’t got no money or anything.”

Barry said: “Get inna fuckin’ car, Markie.” He walked up to Trattman and took him by the right elbow. Trattman resisted slightly. “The car,” Barry said, “you got to get inna fuckin’ car, Markie. You’re
gonna
get inna car and you
know
you’re gonna get inna car, so get inna
car
, for Christ sake.”

Trattman walked slowly toward the car. He looked toward Steve. Steve held the revolver steady. Trattman said: “Steve, you guys, I didn’t do nothing.”

Steve said: “Barry, put him inna back and get in with him.”

Barry pushed Trattman slightly. Trattman said: “I mean it. I didn’t do anything.”

Barry said: “Markie, we’re gonna have all kinds of time to talk about things. Just get inna car, all right?”

Trattman bent and entered the car. He got into the back. Steve slid in on the driver’s side and shut the door. He turned in the seat and pointed the revolver at Trattman. Barry got in and managed to close the passenger door from the back seat. Steve handed the revolver to Barry. Trattman said: “Why’re you guys doing this?”

Steve started the LTD.

“I could, I could do something, you know,” Trattman said. “You guys’re gonna do something to me, I know some guys and I know the right, I know where to call. You guys oughta think about that.”

“You maybe already did something,” Barry said. “Maybe that’s why you’re here, because you did something.”

“I didn’t do nothing,” Trattman said.

“Well,” Steve said. “Then, you’re all right, Markie.”

“You got nothing to worry about,” Barry said.

Steve turned the LTD right on Commonwealth Avenue. He turned left off Commonwealth Avenue onto Chestnut Hill Drive. He took the left fork onto St. Thomas More Drive and the right turn onto Beacon Street.