Hooligans (30 page)

reality, the fantasies were impossible dreams that she would show up at my door in the middle of the

night to tell me she couldn‟t live another instant without me; that I would find her waiting in the

corner of some restaurant. I looked for her everywhere I went, in supermarkets, in the windows of

other cars as I drove down the highway. I bought a pair of cheap binoculars so I could scan Chief‟s

box at Sanford Stadium on football weekends. Even a glimpse, I thought, would help. Finally I

accepted the danger of fantasies. They sour into nightmares and vanish, leaving scars on the soul.

Tonight could not change that, even though the fantasy was becoming real again.

I could feel the armour, like a steel skin, slipping around me.

“Don‟t go away again,” she said. “Not for a while, at least. Give it a chance.”

I let some anger out, not much, just relieving the pressure for a moment.

“That isn‟t exactly the way it played,‟ I said harshly.

“It was Chief. He never understood how we really felt about each other.”

“He understood all right.”

She looked away, fiddling with a strand of cotton ravelling from her dress.

“Hey, Jake, you know Chief. He always made whatever he said sound so.. . so, right. Nobody ever

argued with Chief.”

“Maybe somebody should have.”

She stared at me for several seconds before saying, “Why didn‟t you?”

I didn‟t know how to answer that properly.

What I said was “Pride,” and let it g at that.

She nodded. “Beats us all, doesn‟t it

“Well, it‟s a little hard, coming to grips with the feeling that you‟re a failure at twenty-one because

you have bad ankles. It made me readjust some of my values.”

“Jake,” she said suddenly, changing the mood entirely. “1 want to hear about Teddy.”

“I wrote you all there is to know.”

“1 want to hear it from you.”

“Why, for God‟s sake?”

“So I‟ll know it‟s true and I can forget it, once and for all.”

“It‟s true, believe me. I won‟t replay it, Doe. It‟s not one of my favourite images.”

It had been so long I had almost forgotten the lie. It was heroic, a real Greek tragedy, that much I

remembered.

“Time you laid Teddy to rest,” 1 said softly. “Forget the war. That wasn‟t reality, it was madness.

Remember him the way he was the day you pushed him into the bay. That‟s what he‟d want.”

Then she started to cry, very softly so you would hardly notice

“He‟d like it, that we‟re together here. He was all for us, Jake.”

“I know it.”

She went on, ignoring the tears. “When 1 think back, I think of all of us together. Such bright

promises, and all of them broken. Everything seemed to go bad and stay bad. They kept taking things

away from me. First you, then Teddy, then. . . oh, just everything.”

“Then what? You started to say something, finish it.”

“Lots of thens. I have this horse, a beautiful stallion, Georgia-bred. He had real promise. Chief gave

him to me when I turned thirty. He said Firefoot—it was a silly name but he had this white splash on

one foot, jet black only he had this white streak, so I called him Firefoot—anyway, Chief said Firefoot

and I would stay young together. I wanted to race him, oh, how I wanted that. But Harry got involved

with this racetrack thing. I guess inheriting Dunetown from Chief wasn‟t enough. It wouldn‟t look

right, he said, the racing commissioner‟s wife racing horses. So Firefoot‟s up for stud now. When I go

out there, he runs across the meadow to me with his head up, so proud.. . he wanted to race; it‟s what

Thoroughbreds are all about, Jake, they‟re born to run, to prove themselves. He really deserved the

chance. He deserved that. An animal like that, it has rights.”

She stopped and bit off another strand ravelling from her dress, wiggled it off her fingers, then turned

back to me.

“It‟s been that way ever since you left. Everything went bad.”

“I‟ll buy that,” I said bitterly.

“It just seems like nobody‟s what they appear to be,” she went on angrily. “At first Harry reminded

me of you. He was fun and he laughed a lot and he made me laugh. Then Chief decided to retire and

Harry changed overnight. It was business, business, business!”

“That went with the territory.”

“I didn‟t know he was so ambitious. Suddenly Findley

Enterprises wasn‟t enough. Next it was politics and then the track.

It‟s always something new. He‟s like a man on a roller coaster; he

can‟t seem to stop. I didn‟t want that. There‟s no reason for it.

We‟ve got more than we‟ll ever need.”

For a few moments I felt sorry for Raines, because I understood that drive. Harry Raines had to prove

himself. He couldn‟t be satisfied with the role of Mr. Doe Findley, and for that I respected him. I

wondered if I would have done the same thing. But I didn‟t say anything, I just listened. I had very

little respect for his political aspirations. in my book, politicians usually rank one step above bank

robbers and child molesters. That was my prejudice and my problem to deal with, of course, but I had

met damn few of them I either liked or trusted.

“I love Harry,” she said. “I‟m just not in love with him anymore. He‟s not Harry anymore, he‟s

already Governor Raines.”

“Maybe he‟s got troubles,” I said, buttoning my shirt.

“Tiger by the tail, that‟s all he keeps saying.”

“More like a two-ton elephant on a piece of string.”

“Is it that bad? Is he in trouble?” she asked.

“I don‟t know. Is he honest?”

“Chief believed.., believes in him.”

“Oh, so Chief picked him out,” I said. It was a cruel comment. I was sorry I‟d said it before all the

words were out of my mouth.

She stood up, her back as straight as a slat, smoothing her dress. “I picked him out,” she snapped.

“Sony,” 1 said. “Anyway, I‟m not interested in what Chief thinks, Doe. What do you think?”

She pulled on the dress, but didn‟t button it, and gave me back my Windbreaker.

“I don‟t think he could be dishonest.

“That‟s a nice vote of confidence.”

“I‟m trying to be honest myself. Are you here because of something to do with the track?”

“Hell, I‟m not sure of anything,” I answered. “I‟m new in town. Can I use the phone up at the house?”

She opened a metal box on the wall f the boathouse, reached in and took out a wall phone, handed me

the receiver, and leaned back against the wall, staring at me.

I dialled the war room and Dutch answered.

“Where are you?” he bellowed.

“With friends,” I said. “What‟s up?”

“You got a weird phone call about n hour ago. Kite fielded it. He says a guy wanted to talk to you real

bad, but he hung up when Kite tried to press him. Thing is, Kite says the guy didn‟t exactly sound like

Mary Poppins. The reason I‟m calling, before Kite put it together he told this guy he might be able to

reach you at the hotel. So you might want to keep your eyes open.”

“Thanks. Maybe we ought to have breakfast and do a little catchup.”

“I‟ll pick you up at nine,” he said. I told him that was real civilized of him and hung up.

“More trouble?” Doe asked, anxiety in her voice.

“I don‟t think so.”

“Please come back.”

I played it tough. “Sure,” I said, arid leaned over and kissed her. As I started to leave I felt her hand

on my sleeve.

“Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“What did they do to us?”

“The hyenas got us,” 1 said. “The bastards never let up.”

When I got back to the car, the light was still on in the upper bedroom. Then I remembered that that

was Teddy‟s old room. I wondered if the light was left on permanently, like the eternal torch at

Arlington.

I drove as fast I could back to reality.

35

A gray Olds blundered on to me a couple of blocks before I got back to the hotel and followed at a

respectable distance. The driver was pretty good. I did a couple of figure.-eights, trying to throw him

off, but he didn‟t panic and he didn‟t close the gap. He stayed a block or so behind roe all the way to

the hotel.

I parked in front and let the doorman take the car. The Olds pulled in half a block away and sat with

the lights out. I checked the desk. Then I walked across the lobby and ducked behind a small forest of

ferns and ficus trees near the elevators.

A medium-sized man got out of the Olds and drifted across Palm Drive, acting like he wasn‟t in a

bony. I got a better look at him in the light of the lobby. He was neither tall nor short, fat nor thin, old

nor young. He was decked out in a nondescript gray business suit, no hat, and his chiseled features

might have been handsome except for the deep acne scars that pitted his cheeks. Once he got inside,

he picked up his pace, his deep-set eyes darting back and forth, perusing the lobby. He headed straight

for the elevators and speared the up button with a forefinger.

I stepped in behind him, grabbed a handful of jacket and collar, slammed him face-forward against the

wall, bent his left arm behind him, reached under his arm, and relieved him of a Smith & Wesson .38.

“What‟ya think yer doin‟?” he whined.

I leaned close to his ear and put a rasp in my voice.

„You just took the words right out of my mouth,” I whispered.

“You‟ve been following me for the last ten minutes. I don‟t think you‟re attracted to my beautiful

eyes.”

“Lemme go,” he continued to whine

I shoved his gun between his shoulder blades.

“You got a name?” I asked.

He paused and I shoved harder. He turned his face sideways, glared at me though yellow-flecked

snake eyes, and snarled, “Harry Nesbitt.”

“Just why are you so attracted to me, Harry?”

“I came to talk. Lemme loose.”

“You talk with your arm?”

“You got the gun, hotshot.”

“Yeah, and I‟m kind of jumpy, homicide being the hottest game in town right now. Talk first.”

“Look, all I‟m doin‟ is a Western Union. You wanna listen or not.”

“I‟m listening, Harry.”

“Johnny O‟Brian wants a meet.”

“Is that a fact. And what‟s that to you?”

“I work for him.”

“What do you do, carry his gun?”

“Very funny,” he said, beginning to put an edge back into his voice. I let him go, slipped his gun into

my belt, and backed away from the potted plants, out to the edge of the lobby.

“Do you mind,” he said, his eyes beginning to dance around the room again. “O‟Brian ain‟t anxious

the whole fuckin‟ world should know we‟re talking.”

“Uh-huh,” I said.

He moved farther back among the plants.

“This joint is crawling with people,,” he said, although all I could see was one sleepy bellhop and

desk clerk who was busy sorting bills.

“Just speak your piece and shag,” I said.

“O‟Brian says he‟ll meet you anywhere you say, any time. One on one. Nobody knows but him and

you.”

“What about you? You going to get amnesia?”

“Cute.” He chuckled. “Anyway, I already got it.”

“And how do I contact O‟Brian?”

“You don‟t. I do the go-between, okay? You tell me, I give it to the boss.”

“And why should I trust you? Because I like your taste in ties?”

“Lookee here,” said Nesbitt. “He wants to make a deal with you, okay? He ain‟t got nothing to do

with this hit parade goin‟ down.”

“Now how would I know that?”

“Look, it comes to O‟Brian that you heated up Cincy real good. It comes to O‟Brian that you burned

Skeet Tagliani and gave Uncle Franco and the rest of them a hotfoot there. It also comes to him that

you‟re a stand-up guy when it comes to your word. He wants to do business. What‟s the matter, you

got something against free enterprise?”

“Am I supposed to be flattered by all this?” I asked.

“You wanna talk or you wanna audition for vaudeville? O‟Brian ain‟t lookin‟ for trouble, okay? Am I

drifting your way?”

“Getting scared, is he?”

“O‟Brian don‟t scare,” Nesbitt said matter-of-factly.

“Pigs don‟t lie in the mud, either.”

“Look, my boss don‟t go to the party empty-handed, know what I mean? You wanna be the smartass,

don‟t wanna listen, fuck off.”

I thought about it for a moment or two—not about meeting O‟Brian, that was a gimme—but about

where and when to meet him. It could be a setup, except there was no reason to set me up. Was he

representing the family? Or was he free-lancing? What was he willing to talk about that could interest

rue? I was still guessing that O‟Brian was running scared, looking for an umbrella to hide under.

“Does he know who scratched Tagliani and the rest?” I asked.

Nesbitt shifted from one foot to the other and sighed. “Whyn‟t yuh ask him? 1 told yuh, I‟m just doin‟

a Western Union. I don‟t know shit besides that and my orders are to forget it!”

“When?” I asked finally.

“Sooner the better.”

“How‟s tomorrow morning sound?”

“Worse than now, better than later,” he said with a shrug.

“It‟s too late to do anything now,” I said. “It‟s got to be tomorrow, middle of the morning.” I make a

lot of bad decisions this late at night.

“That‟s the best you can do, that‟s the best you can do. You wanna pick the spot?”

I didn‟t know or remember the town well enough. I decided to test the water a little.

“Does O‟Brian have a place in mind?”

“Yeah, but he don‟t want you should get nervous, him pickin‟ it out, I mean.”

“Try me”

“He has this little fishing camp out on Skidaway. On the bay side, sits out over the water. It‟s private;