Kiss Tomorrow Goodbye (32 page)

‘Shut up, Sid,’ the reasonable one said.

‘We’ve got our orders,’ I said.

Rushy kept the Buick going straight down the street, and turned the same corner he always did. There was a lot of traffic on this street too. We went to the next corner and turned left. In the middle of the block, on the other side of the street, between the street car tracks and the kerbing were some big wooden signs which read: MEN WORKING! BE CAREFUL! CONDUIT CONSTRUCTION! BE CAREFUL, and men were digging into the paving with compressed air-hammers that made so much noise you could hear nothing else. I looked at the quiet guy beside me, the quiet one who had spoken but once. His eyes were wide and his lips were parted slightly, and my spine tingled with that awareness. He wasn’t sure, but he was wondering. … I eased around and pulled my automatic from the holster, pushing it into his stomach, and shot him. His lips twitched and he fell against me, and I shot him again, a little higher up in his stomach.

The air-hammers were making so much noise that for a moment the guys in front could not separate these sounds from the pistol explosions.

Then Sid looked around. The stupefaction in his face was the stupefaction of a man who suddenly discovers in the space of an eye-blink that the mountain is no longer there.

‘All right, you sons-a-bitches,’ I said. ‘Clasp your hands behind your heads.’

The reasonable guy slowly clasped his hands behind his head, but Sid tried to free himself and I knew he was reaching for his gun.

I hit him in the back of the head with my automatic. ‘Clasp your hands behind your head,’ I said.

He groaned slightly and clasped his hands behind his head.

‘Keep your hands on the wheel,’ Jinx said to the driver.

With my left hand, I shoved the guy I had shot. He rolled off my knees to the floor. The air-hammers were still making a terrific racket. I shot him again, in the left temple, and with my foot I turned him over, facing the front seat, so he wouldn’t bleed on my shoes.

‘You’ll never get away with this,’ Sid was saying.

‘That’s a familiar chirp,’ I said, thumbing the clip from my automatic, putting in a new one …

We pushed the Buick full of dead men and empty leather satchels over the shaly escarpment, and the front bumper struck a small jut and the car turned over and struck the water on its top, opening a concavity as smoothly as you scoop out a spoon of jelled dessert. For a few seconds it lay there in the concavity, an upended monster, its four paws turning and wabbling, its grotesque belly exposed, the belly and entrails which had been tooled to one one-hundred thousandth of an inch; and then the concavity filled and the car turned over slowly on its side and sank.

There were no tire tracks, no blood stains, no witnesses but us.

It was as clean as the Everest snow and as absolutely perfect as a circle.

Across the flat beyond the grove of poplars was the city, the tower of the City Hall rising, white and shining, a mighty symbol.

The only sound in the world was Pratt vomiting. …

T
HE TAKE WAS $51,304.
We counted it behind locked doors in Webber’s office at the City Hall: Webber, Reece, Pratt, Downey, Jinx and I all of us working. Fifty-one-thousand, three hundred and four dollars.

We split it three ways: one for Webber, who would take care of his people, one for me, who would take care of my people, and one for Mandon: seventeen thousand, one hundred dollars apiece.

‘Well, boys,’ I said to Pratt and Downey, ‘it looks like you have finally gotten off that hind tit.’

From my stack of money I took five one-hundred dollar bills and put them in my pocket for Mason – two hundred I had borrowed and the three hundred for the truckaway I had not used. I thought that should cover it. I wrapped the rest of my share in a newspaper and handed it to Jinx, who put it in my suitcase, and I then wrapped Mandon’s share in a newspaper and put it under my arm.

‘Drop me at Mandon’s office and take the rest of the stuff home,’ I said to Jinx.

He picked up the suitcase, and I turned to go.

‘Gentlemen,’ I said to the others, ‘don’t think it ain’t been charming…’

Only one of the blondes, the younger one, was in Mandon’s office.

‘He’s expecting you, Mister Murphy,’ she said. ‘Go right in…’

I went in through the little gate to the door of his private office and knocked.

He opened the door. He was chewing an unlighted stogie. He saw the package under my arm and glanced nervously at the blonde, who was paying no attention to us, and I stepped past him to the inside.

‘Relax,’ I said.

He closed the door and came to me. ‘Did everything go all right?’ he asked.

‘Sure. Fine.’ I patted the package. ‘Make a guess …’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Twenty thousand.’

I laughed. ‘Hell, your cut alone is almost that much,’ I said. ‘Slightly over fifty thousand,’ I said.

‘My God,’ he exclaimed.

‘Seventen thousand and some small bills you can use as tips,’ I said, handing him the package.

‘That’s unbelievable!’  he said.

‘It’s only the beginning,’ I said.

He unwrapped the package and looked at the money.

‘And for your information,’ I said, ‘the dividing of the money was well audited. Webber, Reece, Jinx and I all helped count it.’

‘I trust you,’ he said, patting me on the shoulder.

‘I know…’ I said.

‘No hitches, eh?’ He smiled. He had relaxed.

‘It was well planned, well executed and we were lucky,’ I was thinking about the air-hammers and that quiet guy in the back. He would have started something for sure. I had got him just in time. ‘Did you call Mason about the truckaway?’ I asked.

‘Yeah. I got him to cancel it.’

‘Was he sore?’

‘Not when I told him we’d pay for it. He was very curious though.’

‘He’s worse than an old woman,’ I said. ‘That was some idea Reece came up with that quarry. I may’ve been wrong about him. I may have to put him in Webber’s job before I get through.’

‘Why not let things ride for a while? This came off all right…’

‘Oh, I wasn’t thinking of the future. I just don’t want to have to go through these arguments with Webber every time we got something lined up. You saw how he was.’

‘Well, now that you’ve shown him what you can do, I’m sure he’ll be more amenable.’

‘We’ll see,’ I said. ‘Want to come down to the place? I promised Holiday a party if this thing came off to sort of make up for the one she didn’t get last night. We’re breaking open a bottle. Gancia. Lacrima Christa.’

‘Champagne?’

‘Champagne,’ I said. ‘The traditional victory drink.’

‘You’ve earned it too, you have,’ he said heartily. ‘But you’ll have to count me out tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘I don’t know about tomorrow. Tomorrow I got to get measured for some clothes and look for an apartment, a nice one, where I can have some freedom and privacy and have a few of my own things around.’

‘Couple of more jobs like this and you can buy an apartment of your own,’ he said.

‘I got that in the back of my mind too,’ I said.

He nodded his head with emphasis. ‘We make a good team – you and I,’ he said.

‘Even if it did take a gun to get you into the line-up,’ I said.

He laughed and patted me on the shoulder, moving with me to the door.

‘See you around, Shice,’ I said.

He seemed delighted to have me use his nickname. He simply beamed.

I smiled and went out.

Mason saw me get out of the cab in front of the garage entrance, and by the time I had walked to the office he had hobbled all the way from the rear. He was wearing welder’s gloves, and around his neck were the dark goggles.

‘What happened that you didn’t use the truckaway?’ he asked.

‘A slight hitch,’ I said. ‘We postponed the job.’

‘Postponed it? Mandon said it was cancelled.’

‘Well, cancelled then. Temporarily. We’ll use the truckaway sometime…’

‘I don’t get this,’ he said. ‘I never seen a guy so hot for anything as you was that truckaway. Then all of a sudden you don’t want it.’

‘One of the symptoms of the psychopathic super-ego is random behavior,’ I said. ‘I told you. A slight hitch …’

He looked at me with a wise look. ‘Now tell me what really happened,’ he said.

I took out the five hundred dollars. ‘Here. What I borrowed from you and the rent on the truckaway that I was so hot for and didn’t use because there was a slight hitch and which we cancelled but which we will get around to eventually,’ I said. ‘If there is anything left over, apply it on the Zephyr. I’m keeping it a few more days …’

He removed the gloves and took the money, squinting at me. ‘So you pulled the job, after all,’ he said.

‘Oh, hell,’ I said. ‘This is a loan. You think you’re the only friend I got who’ll lend me dough?’

‘A loan like hell,’ he said. ‘What job was it?’

‘You’re a regular old woman,’ I said, smiling. ‘You going to The Persian Cat tonight?’

‘Probably…’

‘I’m giving Holiday a whirl,’ I said. ‘We may see you there.’

There was plenty of Lacrima Christa in the liquor stores, splits, fifths, a few magnums, but no Jeroboams. I wanted a Jeroboam. In the third liquor store, called the Epigourmet (sic), I uncovered one. I had the clerk wrap it in white tissue paper and tie it up with a red ribbon, and I bought three goblets and had them wrapped the same way; and when I got back to the cab the driver looked at me in amusement. I had quite an armful. ‘Whaddya got there?’ he asked.

‘A present for myself,’ I said. ‘My wife just had a baby.’

‘A present for you?’ he said. ‘She had the baby, but you get the present?’

‘Every time my wife has a baby, I buy myself a present,’ I said.

‘Well, say now,’ he said, ‘maybe you got something there…’

I had more here than he knew. I was a happy guy. I glowed a little in anticipation of seeing Holiday. The ghosts were gone, now and forever, and those ancient memories had been imprisoned again; the laceration was healing and the vision that had been a white-white face with black-black hair was now but a fragment of a secret nightmare in full and lonely flight, past impure idols, to the limitless abyss of yesterday… I was a happy guy.

I rode to the apartment in the soft warm dusk. A few store lights had come on early, like people who get to the depot an hour ahead of time, never quite trusting the schedule. The street cars and buses were filled with the little people going home after their day’s work, and some of them had bundles too. What were they celebrating?

When I opened the door and went in, Holiday and Jinx were sitting on the davenport with the money stacked between them. She jumped up and came to me, smiling broadly.

‘What’s in the bundle?’ she asked.

‘Champagne,’ I said.

‘I never saw a bottle that big,’ she said.

‘A jeroboam,’ I said. They come bigger than this. …’

I put the bottle on the table, and the goblets beside it.

‘What’re those?’ she asked.

‘Goblets,’ I said. ‘Glasses. To drink the wine …’

‘You didn’t have to buy special glasses,’ she said. ‘We got glasses in the kitchen.’

Good old Holiday. Nothing aesthetic about her. Pure animal, thank God. ‘You don’t drink champagne out of kitchen glasses,’ I said. ‘You’re the most uncivilized drinker I ever saw,’ I said with good humor. Good old Holiday. Nothing metaphysical about her. Pure animal, thank God.

I put my arms around her and kissed her on the mouth, and she kissed me back, burrowing into my coat. Jinx was watching me with dull flat eyes. There was a pencil behind his ear and a sheet of paper on his knee.

‘I don’t mind sitting in this apartment and waiting when you and Jinx bring back stuff like this,’ she said. ‘We’ve separated the money…’

Our arms around each other, we went to the davenport. The money had been stacked in piles, the 100s and 50s and 20s and 10s and 5s and 1s. The sheet of paper Jinx had on his knee listed the totals of each denomination.

‘Did it come out okay?’ I asked.

‘Can’t you open your mouth without being snott?’ he said.

‘Snotty?’ I said. ‘Am I snotty?’

‘You’re always snotty and you’re always looking for a fight,’ he said.

‘Jesus, look who’s talking,’ I said to Holiday. ‘What’s the matter with you?’ I said to Jinx.

‘I got a right to count the dough,’ he said.

‘Of course you got a right to count the dough. I just asked if it came out okay.’

‘I know what you meant.’

‘I’ll be a son-of-a-bitch,’ I said. ‘I come home happy as a lark, to have a party, a celebration and this is what I run into: a sorehead who snaps and snarls. … I give up.’

Holiday turned me around by the arms and held me. ‘You know how much we got?’ she asked.

‘Roughly,’ I said.

‘Roughly? Ha!’ Jinx said. ‘He knows to the penny.’

‘Fifty-seven hundred apiece,’ Holiday said.

‘Lay off me, will you?’ I said to Jinx. ‘This is only the beginning,’ I said to Holiday. I kissed her again, making much of it for Jinx’s benefit. This is what the matter was with him. When I kissed her it was right out in the open. When he kissed her he had to sneak it. ‘What about the champagne?’ I said. ‘Jinx, you know where there’s an icehouse around here?’

‘I know where there’s a refrigerator. Will that help?’

‘Hell, a refrigerator’s no good,’ I said. ‘This takes ice. We need a sink full of ice. Fifty pounds, at least. We’re gonna start the celebration here, but God knows where we’ll wind up.’

‘I’ll tell you where I’m going to wind up,’ Jinx said. ‘I’m going to wind up at home.’

‘Will you please get some ice first?’ Holiday asked.

He looked at her making a weary face.

‘The hell with him,’ I said. ‘I’ll get the ice.’

I took myself out of Holiday’s arms and picked up the phone. ‘Hello,’ I said to the operator. ‘Can you tell me if there’s an icehouse in the neighborhood?’ ‘We can send you some extra ice, sir,’ she said. ‘Fifty pounds?’ I asked. She laughed. ‘Oh, no, sir, not that much. But there’s a package ice place at Truax and Withers Streets.’ ‘Is that near?’ ‘Only a few blocks, sir.’ ‘Thank you.’ I said, hanging up.