I Can Get It for You Wholesale (40 page)

Go ahead, tell me again!

“I tell you once more, Mrs. Babushkin, that account had absolutely nothing to do with—”

“Never mind, Heshie,” Mother said suddenly. “Let me talk.”

“Okay,” I said, waving my hand. “Go ahead. You’re doing most of it anyway.”

“When Mrs. Babushkin came to me an hour ago, Heshie,” she said, “and she told me what was happening, I asked her what she wanted me to do. She said she wanted me to make you promise that nothing would happen to her husband.”

“For crying out loud, Ma,” I said. “I told Meyer Babushkin a dozen times if I told him once. Absolutely nothing is going to happen to him. We’re both in this thing and it’s one hundred per cent. It’s all a big misunderstanding. The creditors think that we haven’t got enough money to pay our bills, but they’re crazy. We’ve got plenty. What more can I do? You want me to walk around with Meyer Babushkin and hold him by the hand and see that he doesn’t get run over or anything like that?”

“When she was here an hour ago,” Mother continued calmly, “I told her there was nothing I could do. I didn’t know where you were. But now you’re here, Heshie. Now you—”

“What difference does it make where I am?” I said. “I can say it just as well in the Bronx as I can say it downtown. Nothing is going to happen to Meyer Babushkin. You satisfied?”

“Is that the truth, Mr. Bogen?” she asked, leaning forward with the baby in her arms.

I looked her right in the eye.

“That’s the truth,” I said firmly.

“You promise me that, Mr. Bogen?” she said.

I stood up and waved my arms to the ceiling.

“Jesus Christ alive!” I said. “What do you want me to do, put it in an affidavit for you? You want me to run a full-page advertisement in the paper about it? I just
told
you nothing was going to happen to him, didn’t I? What do you want me to—?”

“Stop hollering,” Mother said, “and sit down.”

I sat down.

“Nobody is going around asking you to make out affidavits,” she said, “or anything like that. All Mrs. Babushkin means is you should promise her that
you
won’t do anything to hurt her husband.”

“
I
shouldn’t do anything?” I cried. “Why would
I
want to hurt him? What did he ever do to me? He’s my partner, isn’t he?”

“Then that’s all she wants,” Mother said. “She just wants you should promise that nothing’ll happen to her husband through anything
you
do. Is that right, Mrs. Babushkin?”

“That’s right,” she said.

They were both looking at me.

“Do you promise, Heshie?” Mother said.

“That’s a nice state of affairs,” I said sarcastically. “My own mother and my partner’s wife, they want me to
promise
that I’m not going to do anything to get my partner in trouble. Boy, that’s pretty good, that is!”

“Don’t talk so much,” Mother said. “Just say one word, yes or no. You promise?”

“Sure I promise,” I said. “Of course I promise. What do you think I am, anyway?”

“That’s all I was worried about,” Mrs. Babushkin said, getting up. “Thank you, Mr. Bogen.”

“Don’t even mention it,” I said.

Mother put her arm around her and guided her to the door, patting her shoulder and tickling the baby’s chin.

I stood in the middle of the living room, listening to them saying good-bye to each other outside, and complimented myself on being the biggest sap in four states. With the whole thing practically in the bag, I had to go looking for trouble. I had to come home to make promises. What a grade A
putz I
turned out to be!

G
OLIG AND I HAD
Babushkin between us in the taxi going down to the Referee’s office.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Meyer,” Golig said. “A turnover action is no different from a 21-A. They’ll just ask you the same questions, and maybe get a little tough with you. But you just answer the same way you answered at the 21-A hearing and you’ll get off the same way. Understand?”

He shook his head up and down a little.

“But suppose the judge grants the turnover against me?” he said, turning his worried face to Golig. “Then what?”

“He can’t grant the turnover against you,” Golig said, “because the law says they not only have to prove that you
took
the money, but they also have to prove you have the present ability to pay it back. See? And you haven’t got thirty-two thousand bucks, have you, Meyer? So you see how that works out? They can’t do you a thing.”

“Yeah,” he said, shaking his head again. Then, in the same worried voice, “But suppose he
does
grant the motion against me? That means I go to jail, doesn’t it? I got a wife and kid, Golig, I can’t—”

“Aah, stop worrying about it, will you?” Golig said. “I’m telling you they can’t hang a thing on you. Just to show you, Meyer, listen to this: in the last ten years there were only two turnover motions granted in this whole district, and both guys got suspended sentences because they showed they didn’t have the money to turn over.” He was wasting his time in the law business. He should have written fiction. “Yeah,” he added, “and the only reason those two motions were granted was because those two guys confessed.”

I put my arm on Babushkin’s shoulder.

“Listen, Meyer,” I said. “You and I are partners, aren’t we? And when this thing blows over, we’re going back into partnership, aren’t we? So what are you afraid of? Would I give you a bum steer, Meyer?”

“It ain’t that, Harry,” he said. “It’s just that—”

“So forget it,” I said, patting his shoulder again as the cab pulled up in front of the Pine Street office building. “They ask you questions, you just answer like you did last time. You don’t know from nothing. And don’t worry about it. If the worst comes to the worst, you just tell them I can explain everything. Let them call me. Okay?”

“Okay, Harry,” he said, but the scared look didn’t leave his face.

The same gang was assembled in the Referee’s room when we got there. I nodded cheerfully to McKee, but he only gave me a dirty look in exchange.

Siegel called Babushkin as his first witness. He opened his mouth to ask a question, then stopped.

He turned to Golig, across the table from him, then to the Referee, and as he spoke, he swung his head from one side to the other, talking to both of them at the same time.

“If it please the court,” he said, “it has just occurred to me that we could save a lot of time at this proceeding if my learned adversary, Mr. Golig, would stipulate on the record all the testimony taken at the recent 21-A examination. I intended to base my turnover action on the identical facts adduced at that previous hearing, and it would seem to me, Your Honor, that we could save a lot of time if the defense attorney would stipulate those facts, so that we would not have to merely repeat again what we did at the 21-A hearing.”

“Such a stipulation would, of course, expedite matters,” the Referee said, “but it is entirely within the discretion of the defense attorney.”

He looked at Golig.

“All right, Your Honor,” Golig said, “I’ll stipulate the evidence taken at the 21-A hearing.”

Siegel looked surprised, but said nothing. He waited until the stenographer made a notation on the record, then he turned to Babushkin.

“According to the testimony that has just been stipulated into the record, Mr. Babushkin,” he said, “within ten weeks prior to the bankruptcy of your firm, you made withdrawals, in the form of checks drawn to your order, to the extent of thirty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Those checks you deposited in your personal account, and almost immediately after their deposit, you drew checks on your personal account, to the order of cash, endorsed these checks, cashed them at the bank, and took the cash away with you. You have admitted, Mr. Babushkin, that these moneys were not salaries paid to you by the corporation. And you have insisted, Mr. Babushkin, that you have used that money to pay the debts of the corporation, namely, labor and merchandise purchases. Is that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is that the only explanation you wish to make, Mr. Babushkin, as to the disposition of that money?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You realize, Mr. Babushkin, do you not, that if His Honor grants this turnover motion against you, and you do not turn that money back into the bankrupt estate, that you will be sent to jail?”

Golig jumped up.

“I object to counsel’s attempts to intimidate the witness.”

“I’m not trying to intim—”

“Counsel will confine his questions to the issues,” the Referee said.

Siegel turned back to Babushkin.

“You realize, Mr. Babushkin, do you not, how silly your explanation of the dispos—”

“I object, Your Honor,” Golig cried.

“Sustained,” the Referee said.

“Do you want us to believe, Mr. Babushkin, that you spent all that money in ten weeks on labor and piece goods, and—”

“I object,” Golig cried again.

“Sustained,” the Referee said.

“Do you think a normal man, a man like His Honor, for instance, would really believe, Mr. Babushkin, that you forgot every single name in—”

“I object, Your Honor!” Golig shouted, jumping up and pounding on the table. “This is one of the most outrageous attempts at frightening a witness that I have ever seen. Mr. Siegel is well aware of the fact that his questions are unorthodox and beyond the pale of—”

“Mr. Golig is right,” the Referee said. “You will refrain from this line of questioning, Mr. Siegel.”

“Very well, Your Honor,” Siegel said. But as he turned away I could see him smile.

And all I needed was one look at Babushkin to see why. He was so frightened, that his lips were actually quivering. He kept staring at Siegel as though he had never seen him before, and even from where I was sitting I could see the spit beginning to collect in the corners of his mouth. Boy, but that Siegel was slick. I had to take my hat off to him.

He turned slowly to face Babushkin and asked gently, in a voice so low you could hardly hear him, “Is there any other explanation you
now
want to make as to the disposition of those moneys, Mr. Babushkin?”

Meyer’s lips moved, but for a few seconds no words came out. He was the most frightened man I had ever seen. Gradually sounds began to come from his moving lips, but the stenographer could not hear him.

“You’ll have to speak a little louder, please.”

“M-m-mister B-Bogen can exp-p-plain everything. M-m-mister B-Bogen can exp-p-plain everything.”

He said it over and over several times, as though his mind had fastened on it and he couldn’t think of anything else.

“Very well,” Siegel said, “I’ll call Mr. Bogen.”

We had to help Babushkin down from the witness chair, and after we’d put him into a seat against the wall, I went back to the chair.

“You haven’t yet been sworn in this proceeding, have you, Mr. Bogen?”

“I was sworn last week.”

“That was the 21-A hearing. The Referee will swear you in this proceeding.”

After he did, Siegel said, “You were present at the 21-A hearing in this matter, were you not, Mr. Bogen?”

“Yes.”

“And you heard all the testimony given by Mr. Babushkin at that hearing, did you not?”

“Yes.”

This “did you not” business was beginning to get me.

“And you are also aware, are you not, that all the testimony taken at the 21-A hearing has been stipulated into the record of this proceeding?”

“Yes.”

“And you have just heard Mr. Babushkin’s testimony?”

“I have.”

“You have heard him say, with reference to the disposition of the thirty-two thousand five hundred dollars of corporate funds that passed through his personal account that you could explain everything, you heard him say that, did you not?”

“I did.”

“Can you make such explanation to us now?”

For a moment I hesitated. I thought of Mother and Mrs. Babushkin holding the baby and the promise I had given them. But I couldn’t help myself. I was in too deep. I couldn’t stop now. A promise was a promise. It wasn’t a contract. I’d been bulldozed into it anyway, hadn’t I? Why did he have to send his wife around, crying, with the damn baby in her arms? I never did like kids, anyway. What was I going to do, let them make a sucker out of me by waving a diaper under my nose?

“I repeat, Mr. Bogen, can you make such explanation to us now?”

What the hell was his hurry? Couldn’t he see I was thinking?

“I cannot,” I said.

I could feel the whole room looking at me, but I kept my eyes fixed on Siegel’s face.

“Why not, Mr. Bogen?”

“Because I don’t know the first thing about it,” I said, talking quickly. I didn’t know how groggy Babushkin was, and I had to get it all out before he came to. “This whole thing has been as much of a surprise to me as it has been to everybody else. I was just as astounded at Mr. Babushkin’s story at the 21-A hearing as you were. I have always been so busy with the selling end of the business, entertaining buyers, making out-of-town trips, and so on, that I didn’t realize until now how I was being victimized by an unscrupulous partner.” When it comes to slinging the five-dollar words, I’m as good as any lawyer. “I never did understand how a business as prosperous as ours was could be ruined so quickly. But since I have learned, at these hearings, about Babushkin’s personal bank accounts, and the money that has gone through it, the failure of our business is no longer a mystery to me.”

“Harry! Harry!”

I could see every eye in the room turn toward Babushkin, where he stood screaming. But I didn’t look at him. I looked directly at Siegel.

“What are you saying? What are you telling them? Harry! Harry! What are you saying! Harry!”

He started toward me, but Golig and a couple of others grabbed him. He continued to scream and fight with them, trying to get away from them and at me.

“What are you telling them?” he shouted crazily. “Why don’t you tell them the truth? Why don’t you—?” Somebody clamped a hand over his mouth, but he bit at it and got his head free. “Harry! What are you saying!” he screamed.

“Why don’t you tell them the truth?” His voice stretched so thin that it cracked, but he didn’t stop yelling and fighting with the men that held him. “Harry! Harrr—eeee—eeeeee!”