Kings of Midnight (16 page)

“It started as a typical wiseguy joint, left over from the fifties. If you went in for a drink, they'd charge you like ten dollars for a beer, just so you got the message, ‘Don't come back.' Lots of deals went down there, scores got planned. But there was an apartment on the second floor, above the bar, that Danny used for other things. Guys went in there, never came out.”

“Go on.”

“Danny was Patsy's chief hitter. You got on Patsy's bad side, you had to worry about Danny and his crew coming after you. He wasn't afraid to do the heavy work.”

He looked over at Marta, lowered his voice. “Word was people got hacked up in there, in the apartment. Danny and some of the others would do it right there, in the bathtub. Six pieces—arms, legs, chest, head. They'd put the parts in suitcases, leave 'em in the Fountain Avenue dump. Or maybe weigh 'em down, take a boat out, drop 'em in Sheepshead Bay.”

“Nice friends you had.”

“No friends of mine. It was crazy back then, before the feds started putting away all the bosses. Some outrageous shit happened. Guys like Joey Dio, Patsy—they ran the city. Nobody could touch them. And if you were affiliated with them, forget about it. They were the kings, and the rest of us, we were like the princes. Anything we wanted, we got.”

“Until you end up in a suitcase.”

“Why do you think I went over to the G? After Lufthansa, when people started disappearing, I knew it was only a matter of time.”

Marta came into the kitchen.

“How you doing, baby?” he said.

She took the chair next to him, hooked her arm through his. She touched his face. “We should put some ice on that.”

“It's okay. Just a little sore.”

Crissa looked at Marta's wrists, the welts there starting to fade. “You sure you don't need a doctor?”

“I'm fine. But I still don't know who you are.”

Crissa looked at Benny. He took one of Marta's hands, said, “She's a friend.”

“How do you know Benny?”

“I didn't, until a couple days ago,” Crissa said. “We have a mutual acquaintance.”

“Are we safe here?”

“For now. Better than being out on the street. You two can take the bedroom tonight, I'll sleep on the couch.”

“I don't want to put you out,” he said.

“Don't worry about it. How'd they get in?”

“It was my fault,” Marta said. “The one who knocked at the door, Perry, I'd never seen him before. I would have recognized the others. He told me he was with the police. Then the other two pushed their way in.”

He squeezed her hand.

“You were lucky,” Crissa said. “Things could have gone bad in there.”

Marta brushed hair from her eyes. “I'd say they got pretty bad as it was.”

“You're angry,” Crissa said. “That's good. Hold on to it.”

Benny slipped an arm over Marta's shoulders, squeezed.

Crissa folded up the map. “I have to go see someone tomorrow. I want you two to stay here. Don't go out for any reason. Not even to walk around, look at the water. There's food in the refrigerator. When I get back, we'll talk more.”

“We shouldn't even be here,” Marta said. She looked at Benny. “We should go someplace far away, before they find us again.”

“We will, baby. But it's like I told you—”

Crissa got up. “I'll leave you to it. Let me just get some things out of the bedroom.”

“Give us a gun,” Marta said.

Crissa looked at her. “What?”

“When you go tomorrow, to see whoever you have to see, leave us a gun.”

“I don't think so.” Crissa looked at Benny, then back at her. “A gun can get you into more trouble than it gets you out of.”

“You've got one,” she said.

“That's right.”

“We should have one, too.”

“You don't need one.”

“Are you so sure of that? After tonight?”

Crissa didn't answer. There was nothing to say to that.

*   *   *

The clouds were gone, the morning bright. Crissa pushed Jimmy's wheelchair along the boardwalk. The ocean was flat and calm, sunlight flashing off the surface. Gulls circled overhead.

“Let's stop here,” he said. “Take a rest.”

She parked the chair beside a bench, locked the wheels. She'd told him what Benny had said, about the Scalise woman, the house. How Taliferro had tracked him down again.

He took a Portofino tube from his coat pocket, unscrewed the cap. “Thanks again for these.”

He slid the cigar out, got a silver lighter from another pocket, opened it, thumbed the wheel. Wind blew out the flame.

“Let me,” she said. She took the lighter, cupped it with her other hand, got it going.

He lit the cigar, puffed. “Thank you.” She closed the lighter, slid it back in his pocket, sat on the bench. He drew on the cigar.

“It's good to get out like this,” he said. “I get tired of being around all those old people. It's depressing.”

A jogger was coming along from their right, sneakered feet thumping against the boards. He wore a headband, earbuds, an iPod strapped to his upper arm. He nodded at them as he went by.

When he was gone, Jimmy said, “So what are you thinking?”

“I'm not sure. I guess it's worth looking into. But there are other factors.”

He tapped ash from the cigar. “That Taliferro. He's a son of a bitch, excuse my language. Always was. The worst of the worst.”

“You know him?”

“Met him once or twice. He had a reputation, even way back then. I never understood guys like him though. I mean, this is supposed to be a business. Where's the percentage in whacking some poor slob, cutting up his body? All that does is bring heat. If somebody has to go, he has to go. But you do it right. You do it clean. And that's only if there's no other way around it.”

“I braced him. He knows me now, by sight at least.”

“That's too bad. But Benny's right, Taliferro's on his own. Not connected the way he used to be. He's got some half-assed crew around him, but that's about it. He might not have much in the way of resources.”

“Good. Because the last thing I need right now is to get into the middle of some wiseguy shit I need a scorecard to figure out. I had enough of that last time.”

“I understand.”

“And I'm not sure how much I trust our mutual friend.”

“Benny and I go back a long way, that's all I can tell you. Made some money together. He was a good earner. Those people he was with, though, they didn't respect that. They were animals.”

“That justify what he did? He was a rat. He testified against his friends, went into witness protection.”

Jimmy pulled on his cigar, took it from his mouth, rolled it in his fingers. “He did.”

“I'm surprised you'd even talk to him now.”

“Who knows?” he said. “If the circumstances were different, it might have been me.”

“I can't believe that.”

“The man had a target on him.”

“That's what he said.”

“He was right.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because I had the contract.” He let smoke out, looked out over the water.

“What happened?” she said.

He raised a hand dismissively, let it fall.

“Joey D and the other one, the Gent, they knew Benny and I were friends. They thought I could get him to come down to Jersey. Let him get comfortable, think he was safe, then have one of my guys take him out. That's the way they do it. They always use someone you trust.”

“They tell you why?”

“Just that he was talking to the G, could hurt a lot of people. But I knew it was about the airport thing.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. I stalled. I knew he was gonna turn. Was hoping he would, at least. There was no other way out for him. If he'd tried to run, they'd have found him.”

“You tipped him off?”

“More or less.” He blew smoke out. “I'd seen it coming, too. Whenever a crew starts whacking people without good reason, you know they're on their way down. Only a matter of time before either the feds are all over them, or they start taking each other out for some bullshit or other, usually about money. Once you start killing, it's hard to stop.”

“So he owes you.”

“Maybe. I believe him, though, about Joey's money. It's what I'd always heard, too. That he'd salted it away, didn't touch it.”

“A lot of ifs,” she said.

“If he's right, though, it would be a sweet score. Even a piece of it, if that's all that's left. All cash, can't be traced. How often is that the case these days?”

“Not very.”

“Have a look, listen to your instincts. You'll know whether it's right or not. You're a pro.”

“These days, I'm not so sure about that.”

“I am.” He touched her arm, then took his hand away.

“You need to be careful yourself,” she said. “If this Taliferro starts putting things together, he might guess Benny's been down here. Especially since you were friends back in the day.”

“I've already spoken with Anthony about that. We'll deal with it as it happens. Is there anything you need?”

“Maybe. Depends on what I decide.”

“Whatever you want, let Anthony know. He can help you out with that.”

He puffed on the cigar. After a moment, she said, “You had this all planned.”

“I'm sure I don't know what you mean.”

She smiled. “You're still a sly one, aren't you?”

“Just keeping my eyes open.”

“That makes two of us,” she said.

FOURTEEN

There was a recreation area at the bottom of the hill, tennis courts, outbuildings. Crissa parked in the lot there, and together they started up the trail, Benny panting after the first few minutes.

They'd driven the area for the last hour, and she'd picked this hill as the best vantage point for a view of the house. After talking with Jimmy yesterday, she'd decided there was nothing to be gained by waiting. They'd left Marta in Avon, gotten an early start that morning. By noon, they'd found the driveway that led to the house, Benny's memory as good as he'd claimed.

“You okay?” she said.

“I think so. Just let me rest for a minute.”

They came out into an area with picnic tables, rusty grills. The sun was high, but the wind had teeth. She wore her leather jacket, gloves. Around her neck was a pair of binoculars she'd bought at an army surplus store in Asbury Park.

He sat on a wide rock, hands on his hips, catching his breath.

“You have any health issues you need to tell me about?” she said.

He shook his head, but didn't look at her. “Nothing besides old age.”

“You're doing pretty good for sixty-two.”

“It doesn't feel like it.”

The park was open until dusk, but they'd seen no one else on their way up. Other than the wind, the only noise came from traffic on the county road down below.

He rooted in a jacket pocket, came out with a prescription bottle, unsnapped the lid. He shook a white pill into his hand, swallowed it, winced. He put the bottle away, looked at the path ahead, which got narrower as it led up through the bare trees.

“What was that?” she said.

“For my allergies. I'm not used to being outside like this.”

“Let me see the bottle.”

“Why? I told you, I'm fine. Just give me a minute.”

“Just so you know,” she said, “if you collapse up here, you're on your own. I'm not waiting around for rangers and paramedics.”

“Thanks. I'll remember that.”

“Tell me again about the woman.” Wanting to keep him talking, keep his mind off the way he felt.

“I told you everything I know.”

“Maybe you forgot something. What was the situation between them?”

He drew in breath. “She was his
goomara,
his girlfriend. Joey's wife, Teresa, knew about it, but there wasn't much she could do. Brenda was a lot younger than Joey, so I guess that makes her like fifty now.”

“Not so unusual, though, was it? A boss having something on the side?”

“No, everybody did. That was expected. But it never lasted. They traded off all the time, handed off their girlfriends to other guys down the ladder. But with this Brenda, it went on for a long time. It was serious. Teresa looked the other way for years, but when they finally got divorced, she really went after him. Got the house in Staten Island, almost everything he owned. He was pissed, but there was nothing he could do about it.”

“That doesn't sound like a guy who had a couple million stashed away.”

“I'm sure he wanted to keep that money hidden from Teresa as much as from the IRS or the FBI. And like I said, Joey was cheap. It's that Depression mentality. He had it, but wouldn't spend it.”

“You ready to keep going?”

“Yeah.” He started to get up, sat back. She put a hand out. He took it, pulled himself up. “Thanks.”

“If you're having chest pains, something like that, you should go back down.”

“No, I'm fine.” He dusted off his pants. “Let's go.”

They started up the trail again. She could hear his labored breathing as it grew steeper, worrying now she'd made a mistake by bringing him along.

“How's the jaw?” she said.

“It's fine. Couple loose teeth, that's all. I've taken worse beatings for less.”

“All part of the life?”

“I'm not complaining. I did what I did back then.”

“Was it worth it?”

“For a while, yeah. It seemed that way.”

“Doesn't sound it to me. Especially considering how things ended up.”

“We all make our choices, right? My father worked in a textile mill in Astoria, on the line, nine, ten hours a day, every day. He went deaf from those machines. I made more money in five years than he did in his entire life. All the work he did, all those hours, everything he sacrificed, he was never anything but poor.”