Cogan's Trade

Praise for George V. Higgins and COGAN’S TRADE

“Higgins writes about the world of crime with an authenticity that is unmatched.”

—The Washington Post

“A uniquely gifted writer … who does at least as well by the Hogarthian Boston he knows as Raymond Chandler once did for Southern California.”

—The New York Times

“Superb … Higgins is a complete novelist. His work will be read when the work of competing writers has been forgotten.”

—Chicago Daily News

“Brilliant … Higgins is a master stylist.”

—New York Post

“George V. Higgins’s mastery of the patois of the Boston criminal class is legendary.”

—San Jose Mercury News

A
MATO IN A GRAY SUIT
with a muted red stripe, textured pink shirt with his initials on the left French cuff, a maroon and gold tie, sat at the kidney-shaped, walnut veneer desk and stared. “I got to give it to you,” he said, “you’re a great-looking couple of guys. Come in here about four hours late, you look like shit and you stink. The fuck, you look like you just got out of jail or something.”

“His fault,” the first one said. “He was late. I stood around there and I waited for him.”

Both of them wore black boots with red suede inserts. The first one wore an army-green poncho, a frayed gray sweater and faded blue jeans. He had long hair, dirty-blond, and mutton-chop sideburns. The second one wore an army-green poncho, a gray sweatshirt and dirty white jeans. He had long black hair that reached his shoulders. He had the beginnings of a black beard.

“I hadda get my dogs in,” the second one said. “I got fourteen dogs, there. Takes me a while. I can’t, I can’t just go off some place, leave them dogs out.”

“You’re all covered with hair, too,” Amato said. “You been backing them dogs up to you, I guess.”

“Comes from beating off, Squirrel,” the second one said. “I come out, I haven’t got your advantages, nice business waiting for me, all that good shit. I got to hustle.”

“ ‘Johnny’ around here,” Amato said, “you can call me ‘Johnny’ here. Most of the help calls me ‘Mister,’ but you can call me ‘Johnny.’ That’ll be all right.”

“I’ll work on that, Squirrel, I really will,” the second one said. “You got to make allowances for me, you know? I, like I just got out of fuckin’ jail. My head’s all fucked up. I got to readjust to society, is what I got to do.”

“You couldn’t’ve got somebody else,” Amato said to the first one. “This item looks like shit and he don’t have no manners. I got to put up with shit like this?”

“I could’ve,” the first one said, “but you asked me, you know, get somebody that was all right. Russell, here, he’s maybe kind of a wise ass, but he’s all right if you can stand him.”

“Sure,” Russell said, “and a guy like you, he wants something done, hasn’t got the stones, do it himself, I think he oughta try pretty hard, too.”

“I really don’t like this prick,” Amato said to the first one. “He’s too fuckin’ fresh for my blood. How about going out and getting me a nice tough nigger? I don’t think I can stand this cocksucker long enough to tell him what I want.”

“Russell, for Christ sake,” the first one said, “willya shut the fuck up and stop jerking the guy’s chain? He’s tryin’ to do us a favor.”

“I didn’t know that,” Russell said. “I thought he wanted us to do him a favor. That the straight shit, Squirrel? You tryin’, do me a favor?”

“Get the fuck out of here,” Amato said.

“Hey,” Russell said, “that’s no fuckin’ way, talk to a guy. The fuck you sell driving lessons to people, you go around talking to a guy like that?”

“This thing I got in mind,” Amato said, “the two guys I get to do it’re gonna cut up about thirty, I figure. Thirty K. Shitbirds like him, Frankie, shitbirds like him I can buy for eighty cents a dozen, they throw in another
free. Get me somebody else, Frankie. I’m not gonna put up with this kinda shit.”

“Remember them habes we had?” Frankie said.

“Habes,” Amato said, “what habes? We had about nine hundred habes. Every time I turn around that monkey’s pulling out something else I got to sign. What habes?”

“They, the ones they bring us down for,” Frankie said. “The federal ones.”

“On the line-up thing,” Amato said, “yeah. The time that big coon come after me.”

“Long Tall Sally,” Frankie said.

“I dunno what his name was,” Amato said. “We didn’t have no nice conversation or anything. He was just trying to get my pants off and I was just trying to stop him from getting my pants off, is all. ‘Jes hold still there a minute, white boy, I’m gonna shove all my good time right up your sugah ass.’ Fuckin’ guy. He had white lipstick on.”

“The next night he wasn’t there,” Frankie said.

“The next night I wasn’t there,” Amato said. “If I had’ve been that fuckin’ nigger wouldn’t’ve, boy. I got Billy Dunn a wood chisel for that fucker, he was gonna grab him in the yard if I was there. Fuckin’ dumb screws, can’t always depend on them guys showin’ up when you need them like that, guy’s liable to learn a new way, he’s not careful.”

“You were in Norfolk,” Frankie said.

“I was in Norfolk,” Amato said. “Sit there all day listening to some kid make a fuckin’ asshole outa my goddamned lawyer, all I can think about’s what Billy’s gonna do to that coon, I get back there, and then it turns out, I’m going to Norfolk. Only thing I see that night, there’s this nun in a gray thing, there, wants to know, do I wanna learn the fuckin’ guitar.”

“I know her,” Russell said. “She’s all over the place. She was up to Concord once. I said to her, I said: ‘Sister, I wanted to play the guitar, I would’ve grabbed a fuckin’ guitar.’ After that she left me alone. Lot of the guys liked her, though.”

“That night the nigger was in the hospital,” Frankie said.

“Good,” Amato said. “I hope he fuckin’
died
.”

“Nope,” Frankie said, “but I seen him. He was missing about three feet of skin off his fuckin’ head.”

“Hey,” Amato said.

“Him,” Frankie said, nodding his head toward Russell.

“No shit,” Amato said.

“Peeled him like a fuckin’ orange,” Frankie said.

“More like pulling bark off a fuckin’ tree,” Russell said. “Guy had skin like nothing I ever seen.”

“He came after you?” Amato said.

“Somebody sure did,” Russell said, “somebody looked to me like he hadda be the biggest chungo bunny inna world, come after me. I had this blade there, another guy I meet onna way over, he told me, I give him a hundred out of my thing there and he had this blade for me. Said I was probably gonna need it. I bet I wasn’t in there ten minutes and that nigger’s coming after me. Didn’t do it again, though.”

“That’s how come,” Frankie said. “He’s a prick but he’s got all the moves.”

“He clean?” Amato said. “Both you guys clean?”

“
Frankie
,” Russell said, “you been
using
something?”

“Shut the fuck up, all right, Russell?” Frankie said. “Yeah. I haven’t had anything but booze since I get out. Not that much booze, either. Mostly beer. I been waiting for payday, I start in on the VO and other stuff.”

“You’re on pills,” Amato said. “You’re in, you’re on pills. I seen you, don’t forget. You were beating the hell out of them yellowjackets.”

“John,” Frankie said, “the yellowjackets were there. I didn’t see nobody serving no beer. I took what there was. I haven’t had none of that stuff since I was out.”

“How about him?” Amato said.

“
Gee
, Squirrel,” Russell said, “
I
wouldn’t take nothing. I, ah, I probably had a couple quarts of Ripple and some grass, and I might’ve had one or two dime bags once or twice, but I just snort them, you know? It’s not like I was using something. I go to Cub Scouts, you know? And they pat you down, there, they start teaching you how to tie them knots and everything.”

“Smack,” Amato said to Frankie. Frankie shrugged. “I ask you to find a guy for me and I got this thing, and all I got to do is do it and we get some very nice money. All I got to do is find two guys that can do a fairly simple thing without fucking it up, and this is the best you can do for me. A fuckin’ junkie. And I’m supposed to just let you guys go in there and you’re gonna go in and once and for all you’re gonna fuck it up, a job that’s never gonna come around again in a million years. I don’t want to have a whole lot of
fun
with this thing, you know, because I hadda go out and get a guy that looked all right when I got him and then he goes in and he’s on the fuckin’ nod or something. I want the goddamned money. That’s what I need.”

“Squirrel,” Russell said, “when I was a little kid I used to take off on Cheracol. I didn’t have any trouble. When I was working for my Uncle, I used to have to go down in holes for him, you know? The carbon black on my face and go down in them holes with a forty-five in my hand and a knife in my fuckin’ teeth and I went
into them tunnels. Every day I went in them tunnels. If there wasn’t anything in the tunnel, that was a good day. Not so good days, there’s probably only a big fuckin’ snake in there or something that wants to eat you. Kinda bad days, there’s some skinny dink in there with a gun, tryin’ to kill you. Bad days was when the dink did it, or there was a piece of wire in there and you didn’t happen, you weren’t paying attention or something and it’s rigged up to something that blows up pretty quick, or else there’s a punji stick in there with a whole lot of dink shit on it under your hand and you go into your basic blood poisoning extra quick.