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1
don't feel good, Joe. Why don't you get out of here.'

I
leaned very close to him. 'Look, Manny,' I whispered into his ear, 'I kept my
mouth shut for the last seven years while I sat in jail. I could've talked and
put you away with me. Right now you'd be rotting in a prison hospital if I
hadn't kept quiet.'

'Yeah,
so?'

'So?
Goddam it, Manny, confessing your sins to Phil won't change anything. You're
still going to end up burning in hell.’

‘No
I won't,' he argued stubbornly.

From
behind me I heard a loud voice booming, 'Hey, Pop, who's that with you?' I
turned and saw Manny Jr. with what must have been two of his sons. Junior had
grown to look a lot like his dad used to; a heavy, thick man with a complexion
like chipped glass and a hardness about him. His two boys were probably under
seven but both looked like miniature versions of him. Junior stood staring at
me for a long moment before he recognized me. Then a vicious smile crept onto
his face.

'Hey,
look what the cat dragged in here. Joe Denton, what the hell are you doing
here?'

'Old
business with your dad.'

'Yeah,
well, I think your business is over. Don't let the
door
hit you too hard on the way out.'

He
started towards me, his smile stretching until his lips nearly disappeared. I
got up and walked close to him. 'You and me have business,' I said. 'Star Diner
out in Chesterville. Meet me there at seven.'

'Nah,'
he said. 'Why don't you meet me at the house. I got a new game room in the
basement. We can have some fun.'

'I
don't think so. Star Diner at seven. You better be there, Junior.'

I
turned back and told Manny I'd be seeing him, and then I walked out of there.

 

 

 

Chapter 8

 

It
was twenty past seven and I was halfway through my turkey hotplate special
before Junior showed up. He had a couple of thugs with him; hard humorless
types who used to work for his dad. Junior spotted me at my booth, leered in my
direction, and came over and sat down. The diner was mostly empty and his two
thugs sat at an empty booth nearby.

'Hey,
what's going on, Joe?' he said. 'You invite me to dinner and you start without
me? Don't you got no etiquette?'

He
signaled the waitress over. 'Sweetheart,' he said, 'bring me a steak, well
done, and a glass of wine, something red.'

'We
offer Chianti, Cabernet and Merlot by the glass, sir. Which would you prefer?'
she asked.

'Whichever's
better, your choice, sweetheart. Just make sure it's your best.'

He
waited until she left and then turned to me. 'I try to drink more red wine
these days.' Then lower and more surly, 'I don't appreciate you trying to order
me around, Joe, but it's been a while and I figure I give you a break for old
time's sake. What business you and me got?'

I
took my time chewing and swallowing my food before telling him that I needed to
talk to him about Manny.

'Yeah,
what about Pop?'

'Why are you letting Phil Coakley work on him?’

‘I don't know what you're talking about.’

‘You don't know Phil is visiting your dad every
day?’

‘Yeah, so?'

'So?
Phil was bragging to me that he's going to put the fear of God in your dad and
squeeze a confession out of him.'

Junior
gave me a slight smile. 'Let him try. Pop's no rat. He's not going to talk.'

'I think you're wrong there.'

'I think you better shut up.'

His
leer had shifted into something more violent. I took a deep breath and let it
out slowly. 'Look, Junior,' I said, 'I think we've got a real problem here.'

'I
don't think we got any problem. Pop's not going to rat anyone. You don't need
to worry about nothing.' He leaned forward, a glint in his eyes. 'And I never
liked you calling me Junior. Got it?'

I
sighed. 'Sure. Manny. All you have to do is send your dad to a hospital out of
state, maybe to Boston or New York. Your dad will get better care and we won't
have to worry about Phil trying to trick him into a confession.'

Junior
was shaking his head. I can't do that,' he said. 'Pop wants to stay put. He
don't want to go nowhere.' He rubbed a thick hand over his jaw and showed me an
embarrassed smile. 'Besides,' he said, 'I like having him close by.'

'You
could send him back to the Bronx. He must have old friends and family there.'

'Nah, I told you, he don't want to go nowhere.'

"Then keep Phil out of your dad's room.
Don't let him visit.'

'Yeah,
well, I can't do that either. Those visits are helping my pop's spirit. It
makes him feel good. Besides, it don't matter. Pop's not going say a word to
him.'

'How do you know that?'


‘Cause
I know.'

'You
talk to your dad about what he's planning to do?'

A
glint of violence was back in his eyes. I don't know what point you're trying
to make.'

"That
if your dad talks you're going to get hurt too. Even if he made a deal with
Phil not to prosecute you, you'll still get hurt. All of your businesses will
be shut down. And I guarantee you all your money will be taken away. Besides, I
doubt Phil would bother honoring a deal. My bet would be as soon as your dad's
dead, you'll get prosecuted along with everyone else.'

The
waitress came over with his glass of wine. Junior sat frozen as she placed it
in front of him. He waited until she had walked away before telling me that
he'd take any bet I wanted to make.

'You
got yourself such a great track record making winning bets,' he said. 'Me and
Pops used to get a good laugh out of your losing streak. You couldn't win a bet
to save your life.'

'I'm
glad I was able to amuse both of you,' I said. 'But it doesn't change the fact
your dad's telling me about hearsay exclusions and other things he doesn't have
a clue about. The only way he could possibly have heard about any of that stuff
was from Phil. His new buddy is trying to sell him a ticket to heaven, filling
him up with a bunch of crap about how he can cleanse his soul with a deathbed
confession that can't be used in court.'

'Pop
tell you that?'

'Just
about.'

Junior's
eyes dulled a bit as he thought over what I said. Then he shook his head. 'No
fucking way. You're delusional. Your stint in jail made you soft in the head,
Joe. There's no way Pop's saying a word to nobody. No fucking way. And I'm
getting sick of you saying otherwise. I came here tonight 'cause of old times
and you're going to give me this shit?'

Junior
pointed a thick, stubby finger at me and lowered his voice. 'You know what
pisses me off about you? You think you're so goddam smart. If you're so
brilliant how come you ended up in jail? If it was me, there's no way I walk
out of that building with Coakley still breathing. You do something that stupid
and you're going to start questioning me?'

'I
wasn't questioning you, I'm just trying—'

'Yeah,
well, shut up. From now on I'm doing the questioning and you're doing the
answering, understand? And first thing I want to know about is an old friend of
ours that I'll call Billy F. Do you remember Billy F.?'

I
didn't say anything.

'Billy
R, come on, think back. You were supposed to collect thirty grand from him.
Remember him yet?'

'I
was never sent to collect from Ferguson.'

'That's
not what Pop says.'

'I
don't give a shit what your pop says.'

'Not
a good attitude, Joe.'

"This
is what the two of you cooked up, huh?'

'I
don't know what the fuck you're talking about. All I know is what Pop told me.
That, and that Billy F. emptied out an IRA account before seeing you. Oh yeah,
one other thing, we never got a dime of our money.'

'Fuck
you.'

'Not
a good attitude, Joe, 'cause I'm putting you on the hook for the thirty grand.
For old time's sake, I'll give you a break on the interest. Five percent a
week. First payment due Wednesday. That gives you four days. And I want at
least three grand. You know Jamie and Duane over there?'

Junior
waved a hand in the direction of his two thugs. Jamie, who was sitting closer
to me, winked. Duane paid no attention and sat as still as a granite block.

'They'll
be collecting from you,' Junior went on. 'But being as we're old friends I'll
give you another break. You got a twenty grand line of credit if you want to
place any bets. Hey, a couple of good picks and we'll be even by Sunday night.
What do you say, want to take any action this weekend?'

Junior
showed me an ugly smile and then he started laughing. After a while I joined
him.

'Yeah,
what's so funny?' he said.

"That
you think you're going to collect a dime from me,' I said when I could.

'Don't
worry. I'll be collecting it.' That just made me laugh harder.

'Jamie
and Duane are tougher than those two boys you put in the hospital,' he said.

'You
heard about that, huh? Well, they might be but you sure as hell aren't. They
come after me and I'll be seeing you afterwards.'

Junior's
mouth twitched. He sat frozen, breathing hard, his black eyes shining with
malice.

'What's
to stop me right now from taking you out of here and driving you someplace
private?' he asked.

'Well,'
I said, 'I guess us being old friends and all.'

He
didn't say anything. He just sat staring at me and breathing hard.

'And
I guess because if I were to disappear you'd be going away to prison for a long
time.'

'Pop
told me about your so-called safety deposit box. I think you're bluffing.'

'There's
only one way to find out.'

The
waitress came over with his dinner. After she put it in front of him, Manny
called her back. 'Hey, darling,' he said, 'I kind of lost my appetite. Why
don't you wrap this up for me.'

He
waited until she went back to the kitchen before standing up. 'You keep away
from Pop, understand? He's a sick man, he don't need your shit. If I hear
anything about you bothering him again, I promise I'll call your bluff. And
don't worry, Joe, you'll be hearing from my boys Wednesday. And you'll be
paying up. One way or another I'll be collecting from you.’

‘I'll
be looking forward to it,' I said.

'You
think you're so fucking smart.' He shook his head. He started walking towards
the counter and his two thugs got up to join him. The waitress came out of the
kitchen with his steak wrapped up and he took it from her.

'Thanks,
darling,' he said, 'dinner's on my buddy sitting over there.' One of his thugs,
Jamie, got a chuckle out of that. I watched as the three of them left the diner,
got into a Range Rover and drove off.

I
finished my dinner and then called the waitress over and asked for a piece of
pecan pie with a scoop of vanilla ice cream and a cup of coffee. She was about
to walk away, hesitated, and showed me an awkward smile.

'Those
are some friends you've got,' she remarked.

'They
sure are,' I agreed. The thought hit me that Manny and Junior and Dan Pleasant
were the closest things I had to friends these days, and I started laughing. It
wasn't really funny, at least not entirely, but it was something. She must have
thought I was nuts.

Everything
would've been solved if Junior had been willing to either move Manny out of
state or to keep Phil from visiting him. But I knew no amount of convincing
would change Junior's mind. It would have to be something else. I was sure
Manny was working out a deal with Phil. There was no doubt about that. I
wondered briefly whether Junior was in on the discussions and decided he
wasn't. He enjoyed what he did too much and wouldn't want to give up what he
had. When Manny confessed it would come as a surprise to him. It would probably
shatter him to find out that his old man was a rat after all. At least I'd be
able to get a little consolation out of that.

BOOK: Small Crimes
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