Never Love a Stranger (55 page)

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Authors: Harold Robbins

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BOOK: Never Love a Stranger
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He was silent for a moment, then: “O.K., four o’clock.”

I left the office at three. I told Flix to go back to the apartment and wait there for me.

Then I drove up to meet Jerry.

I was there a few minutes before four, and I waited around. At four o’clock promptly I saw Jerry. He was driving a blue Buick sedan. I watched him park the car and look around for me. He didn’t see me. I honked the horn to attract his attention.

He looked over at me and smiled and waved his hand. I made a gesture with my hand that meant: “Come on.” I started off, glancing into the rear mirror to make sure he was following me. He was.

About a mile down the highway I turned off on to a small road that ran down to Teaneck. I stopped in front of a parking lot. Jerry’s car stopped behind me, and I got out of my car and walked over to him.

We shook hands. I smiled. “How are you?” “Fine,” he said.

“And Janet?” I asked.

“She’s O.K. now,” he replied, “but it was tough on the girl losing the baby and then the doctor telling her she couldn’t have any more.”

This was news to me. I hadn’t known anything about that “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, it’s over now,” he said. “What’s on your mind?”

I smiled. He was in a hurry but he was going to have to wait. I would talk to him in my own time and in my own way. “Park your car here,” I told him, “and get in mine. We’ll go somewhere where we can eat and talk.”

An hour later we were at a small inn on Route 9 in a small private dining-room. We had Scotch old-fashioneds in front of us, and I had lit a cigarette. I looked over at him. “I suppose you’re wondering why the sudden rush act.”

He nodded, not talking.

I went on. “Just how bad do you want me?” I asked. “Getting you is my job,” he answered simply.

Good! That was what I expected to hear. “If you busted up the racket wouldn’t that be enough?” I smiled. “Getting me personally won’t stop the organization, but I might make

a deal with you. I’ll set up the racket so that you can break it up when I go. I’ll even give you a patsy; one with a record, one that you’ve been after longer than you’ve been after me.”

He lifted his drink to his lips and sipped it slowly. He squared right off. “What do you want to pull out for? You know I haven’t anything on you—yet?”

I squared with him. “I’m going to get married,” I told him, “and my future wife doesn’t approve.”

He laughed at that. “Don’t tell me a woman is going to do what all the city, state and Federal governments can’t!”

I nodded ruefully. “It looks that way.”

He was grinning now. “More power to her!” he said, shaking his head a little. “Anyone I know?”

I looked him right in the eye. “It’s Ruth,” I said simply.

He almost fell out of his chair. “Ruth!” he said surprisedly. “How long has this been going on?”

“Long time now.” I smiled.

The waiter came in with the appetizer. We were silent until he left the room. Then Jerry spoke again. “I’d like to do something for you, more for Ruth than anyone else, but I don’t see how I can accede. After all, I still have a job to do.”

“Suit yourself,” I said, “but there are more things to this that have to be clarified.” I speared a clam on my fork and waved it at him. “You see, if you nail me you’ll nail your old man at the same time. His law firm is handling several important matters for me.”

Jerry put down his clam fork and looked at me. He was getting a little angry at the crack. “I don’t believe it,” he stated flatly.

“Believe it or not,” I replied, “I know what I’m talking about.” “Dad would never take on a case from you.”

“I didn’t say he would,” I retorted, “but he has, or rather his firm has. And that wouldn’t look too good on the front pages of the papers, would it?”

Jerry didn’t answer that. I could see him thinking it over.

I threw another few logs on the fire. “Look, Jerry, let’s not be kids about this. We’re grown-up now, and this is business—serious business. Just supposing there comes a time that you finally get enough on me to make a case out of. Supposing when that time comes somebody drags your old man’s name into it. Supposing somebody says maybe that’s the reason you didn’t get me a long time ago: because I was paying off your old man. You don’t know the things people will say—or think.”

He got out of his chair and walked around the table towards me. He grabbed me by the collar and held me. “If you have any intention of throwing mud at my father and covering him with your filthy slime, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

I sat there quietly looking up at him. Then I raised my hands and disengaged them from my lapel. “Homicide’s as much against the law here in Jersey as it is in New York.”

He looked at me for a moment without speaking.

I didn’t give him a chance to talk anyway. “Look, Jerry, I’m not threatening your father. I’m trying to point out all the things that people might say. And there’s no way of

stopping them. I know. They say a lot about me that’s so much bull, and yet I can’t do anything about it.” I smiled at him. “Go back and sit down, finish your dinner. When you hear the rest of my plan—who knows?—maybe you’ll agree.”

He went heavily back to his chair and sat down. He was quiet all through dinner. He didn’t have much of an appetite: just picked at his food and listened. But when we went back for his car he had agreed to do what I asked.

I got out of my car and walked over to his and put one foot on the running board. I gave him a chance to save a little face.

He clambered in behind the wheel and sat there, his mouth set grimly.

“After all, Jerry,” I said in a low earnest tone, “you are doing the job they gave you. You are busting up the racket. Even if it ain’t according to Hoyle, the important thing is that you are doing it.”

He looked over at me and smiled wanly. He was too discouraged even to pick up the lead. His voice was heavy and dull. “I guess so.”

“You don’t have to guess,” I said positively. “You know it. You yourself once suggested the same thing. And it’s results that count.”

He stepped on the starter, the motor burst into life. He was about to start off when suddenly he turned and looked at me. “Frank,” he said.

“Yes, Jerry?”

“You haven’t changed a bit since you were a kid. But don’t think you can get away with it all the time. Life has a funny way of catching up and paying off.”

I took my foot off the running, board and shrugged my shoulders. “Who knows?” I asked. His car started to roll slowly. I walked along with it. “Maybe I’ll be lucky,” I said.

He stepped on the gas and drove off. I walked over to my car slowly. When I got in I laughed a little to myself. Maybe I’ll be lucky, I had said. But that wasn’t all there was to it—you had to be smart too.

Chapter Nineteen

A
BOUT
eleven o’clock the next morning I got a phone call from Alex Carson. His voice sounded good for the first time in weeks. “Frank,” he said, “the Bar Association dropped its charges against me this morning.

That was in order. It was one of the things I had arranged with Jerry. I acted surprised. “That’s swell!” I said. “Get down here and we’ll have a drink on it.”

I hung up the phone and called Flix into the office. The next thing I wanted to do was to get Fennelli over here. And I knew he wouldn’t come merely by invitation; so I sent Flix after him.

Alex came into the office a half-hour after he had called. I got up and shook hands with him. “Congratulations!” I said. “I knew you’d make out all right.”

He grinned. “They had me worried there for a while, I still don’t understand why they dropped it.”

“Sit down,” I said. “I’ll tell you why.”

We sat down and I explained the whole setup to him. When I had finished he let out a long, low whistle. “Do you think you can get away with it, Frank?” he asked.

I nodded my head. “With your help I can.” He stood up. “You can count on me.”

“Swell!” I said. “Stick around, I want you here when Silk shows up.”

Flix brought Silk in about three o’clock. Silk walked over to my desk and threw his hat down on it. “You didn’t have to send that lug over for me, Frank,” he said evenly. He even managed to get a slightly reproachful note in his voice. “All you had to do was call me.”

I smiled at him. “You know how it is, Silk. I didn’t want to do you any less honour than you did me.”

He skipped right over that crack and came right to the point. “Well, what do you want?”

I looked up at him a moment. This was important. If he didn’t bite right I was a cooked goose. “You know my idea when we started this thing. The agreement was made to keep the industry in order. Of late you seemed to have other ideas—your own ideas on running the business. It would be very simple for me to have you knocked off—maybe a lot simpler than having Flix bring you out here, but that’s not the way I do business. I run this as a regular business and I don’t want any trouble. So I’ve decided to buy you out.”

He drew his lips back slightly over his white even teeth. “Just what does that mean?” “That means you give up your territory to me and get out of this business,” I answered

quietly.

“And how much are you offering?” he asked. “One hundred grand,” I replied.

He leaned forward against the desk. “That’s only my share of what’s in the pool,” he said coldly. “I take a quarter of a million a year out of my territory alone.”

“I know that,” I said.

“And the pool pays about two hundred grand a year,” he continued. “I know that too,” I said.

He was quiet a minute, then he spoke again. “And what if I don’t sell?” I shrugged my shoulders and didn’t answer.

He sat down in a chair quietly and I watched him. Let him take his time, let him think about it. He’ll come to the right answer. A few minutes passed by. His face remained impassive, unreadable; just his hands opened and closed.

At last he spoke. “What if I offered to buy you out?”

The fish was on the hook. “Not interested,” I answered non-committally. He stood up and walked around the desk to me. I looked up at him. “I mean real dough,” he said, “a quarter of a million.”

I let his offer slide off. “I’m buying you out,” I reminded him. “I’m not interested in selling.”

He walked back to his seat and sat down. He took a cigar out of his pocket and lit it nervously. “Three hundred grand and a share of the profits,” he offered.

I looked at him. “You interest me strangely,” I said. “How much of a share?” “A half share, payable monthly.”

I switched my line. “I got to think about it. This is too sweet to give up.”

He was pushing now. This was something he had wanted for a hell of a long time. Only he didn’t know he was going to get it. “Frank,” he urged, “it would be just the thing for you. No work—you can do anything you want outside this racket. Why, you could live on the fat of the land. Travel—women—anything you want.”

It was my turn to stand up and play dummy. “It sounds good to me,” I said, “but how do I know you’ll play ball?”

“Certified cheques in the morning sound convincing enough?” he asked. I stalled a few seconds more, then gave in. “O.K., Silk, it’s yours.”

He stood up and held out his hand. “You won’t be sorry, kid,” he said. “Remember what I told you when you first came to me. I said you’d make a lot of money then, and I wasn’t wrong, was I?”

I smiled at him. “You weren’t.” We shook hands on the deal.

The next morning at eleven o’clock Silk came into the office. Carson and I were there already.

“Got the cheques ready?” I asked.

He nodded and took them out and put them on the desk. “Made out just like you said: to Alexander Carson for services rendered.”

I looked at them. He was right. I gave them to Alex. Alex endorsed them and handed them back to me. I pressed the buzzer for Miss Walsh. She came in with the envelope I had told her to have ready. I put the cheques in the envelope, and she left the room while I was putting the envelope into my jacket pocket.

I looked up at the two of them. “This calls for a drink,” I said, and brought out the old bottle.

When we had had our drinks I told Alex to take Silk out and show him around the

place. They left the room together.

I called for Mackson, and he brought up the cheques I had ordered him to draw up. I looked at them. They were all there: the pool split up into its component parts as of this date. I signed them and gave them to Miss Walsh to send out. I had everyone paid off, even Silk. Then I left the office by the private elevator and went over to the hotel.

Joe Price was waiting in my apartment. I gave him the envelope containing the cheques Silk had given me. “You know what to do with this,” I said.

He nodded. That was figured out too. An account had been opened in each of the banks where Silk had accounts. They were in the name of my new company. The cheques would be properly deposited in each account. I left him and went back to the office.

An hour later Joe called me. “Everything’s O.K., Frank,” he said.

I hung up the phone. For a moment I hesitated; then I drew a deep breath and dialled a private number.

For a few seconds the phone at the other end buzzed, then I heard Jerry’s voice: “Cowan.”

“Frank,” I replied. “It’s your party!” and put the phone down.

A few minutes later Fennelli and Carson came back to the office. Silk was pleased. He had a broad smile on his face. “What a setup, Frank!” he said. “I knew it was big, but I didn’t know how big it really was.”

I stood up. “It’s not half bad!” I smiled. “How about another drink? We’ll get into the operations tomorrow.”

He followed me over to the liquor cabinet. I took out a bottle, filled three glasses, and handed one to each of them. “Here’s luck!” I said, and tossed mine off.

Alex downed his, saying the same thing: “Here’s luck!”

Silk just smiled and swallowed his drink. He was looking at me expansively. Suddenly he walked around the desk and sat down in my chair and put his feet up on the desk. He waved his hand. “Take a seat.”

I smiled to myself. He didn’t know just how hot that seat could get, but he’d find out fast enough. I sat down in a chair in front of my desk and looked at Silk. He smiled back at me.

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