Hooligans (38 page)

“Not this time, pal. I mean, that Nance, he‟s a badass and all that, but I don‟t see him and Chevos

doin‟ that. Look, I‟m tellin‟ you, except for that local nigger there wasn‟t any problems.”

“I still don‟t trust you, Harry,” I said. “You could‟ve dragged me all the way out to this pasture to try

to get me to fix yourself up an alibi.”

He was sweating. The dogs were at it again but he had lost interest. He was mine for now. He wiped

his forehead with the back of his hand and leaned closet to me, whispering over the bellowing crowd.

“What d‟ya want to know? Uh, the guys with you, one was the size of a semi, the other one was

missing an ear. . . uh, you had a feast would choke a fuckin‟ hippopotamus. Then you went over and

talked to two other birds..

He rambled on, filling in details as they came to him, things nobody would have thought to tell him.

He was a very observant man.

“Okay,” I said, cutting him off, “so maybe for now I choose to believe you. You got something to

trade? This is your party, so I assume you want something, and since Christmas is long gone, I figure

you got something to throw in the pot. Otherwise we wouldn‟t be out here in this shithouse.”

“Look, I know I‟m probably on the shit list. I can‟t take a chance on leaving town if I‟m gonna get

busted. The Triad has got people all over the state on the payroll, man. I get busted, the boys‟ll hear

about it, y‟know, like yesterday. I won‟t make it to the South Carolina border, fer Chrissakes.”

“That‟s what you want, a guarantee the law‟1] let you out of town without a hassle?” I asked with

surprise.

“Once I‟m loose, I‟m okay,” he said “I got some friends in Phoenix. I‟ll take a moniker. But I can‟t

take a chance, see, some dumb flatfoot, pardon the French, turns me up down here.”

“Why don‟t you drive?”

“It‟s their car, their credit cards. I left the car in a downtown parking lot with the cards locked in the

dash, sent them the keys. I‟m breaking as clean as I can. Hell, I was even afraid to tap my bank

account, y‟know? It‟s all set up by the company.”

“So you‟re tapped out, too?”

“1 got a small stash, get me where I‟m goin‟. Look, I‟m not askin‟ for anything except a ride and

some company to Jacksonville. They can put me on the plane, that‟s it. Am I on the suspect list,

Kilmer?”

“Hell, I think I‟m even on the suspect list.”

“I need some cover, man, to break out. Whad‟ya say?” The crowd noise surged and I was compelled

to look down in

the pit. The little dog, the hog dog, had the old warrior by one ear and was dragging it across the pit.

“See what I mean,” Harry cried, forgetting his troubles for the moment.

“What‟s to trade?” 1 asked.

“You sure got a one-track mind.”

“Yeah, and right now I‟d like to get on that track and get the hell out of here.”

“Like I said, what d‟ya wanna know?” he asked.

“Everything you know.”

“It ain‟t that much.”

“How about narcotics?”

“I don‟t have nothin‟ to do with dope”

“How about Chevos?”

“Look, what do you want? All I‟m askin‟ is a fuckin‟ ride out of town. This ain‟t the Inquisition. I

can‟t turn anybody up. That ain‟t what this is about.”

“Did I ask you to turn anybody up, Harry? You‟re making me play twenty questions here, that‟s all.

We‟ve never done business before. What‟s the game?”

“Look, I don‟t know what you want to know. One thing I don‟t know is who iced these people.”

“Start from the beginning. The first time you came down here from Cincy,”

He thought about it while I watched the activity in the ring. Finally he said, “1 come down here four

years ago. It was Tagliani, Costello, Cohen, that‟s all. I was one of the old man‟s soldiers at the time.”

“What happened?”

“Nothin‟. We was gonna stay at this old hotel out where the Strip is now, but it was rundown. We

coded up on this guy‟s yacht.”

“What guy?”

“I don‟t remember his name.”

“Was he local?”

“Yeah. A Doomstown johnny. I think he was in the banking business, like a big shot. Look, you

wanna know the truth, it was the two guys you were talkin‟ to at breakfast.”

“Seaborn and Donleavy?”

“1 just don‟t remember that, I ain‟t good on names.”

“Did you hear what they were talking about?”

“I never did that. It was none of my business. On the way back, though, Tagliani tells Costello he

thinks this guy is gone around.”

“You mean they made some kind of a deal with him?”

“That‟s the impression I got. In fact, I know it. We all got accounts in his bank.”

“What bank?”

“Seacoast National.”

“You all have accounts in the same bank?”

“Sure. We get paid automatically. Every Friday, you can book on it. It goes in automatically.”

“And that‟s the whole family?”

“Anybody I know about.”

“Did you come down again with Franco?”

“One other time. We stayed on the same yacht. That time it was only the older guy, not the one looks

like a wrestler, and he brought this other bozo with him. Short fellow, skinny. Looked to be maybe

thirty-five to forty.”

I felt like kicking myself for not knowing anything about Sutter and Logan. They were the two

members of the Committee I was still in the dark about. I didn‟t know what they looked like, how old

they were, nothing except their names and what they did. Sutter was the media man and Logan was

the lawyer.

“Could his name have been either Logan or Sutter?” I asked.

“His name coulda been Mussolini for all I know,” Harry whined.

“And you didn‟t overhear any of their conversations.”

“I couldn‟t listen to that stuff, Kilmer, you know that. It‟s see nothin‟, hear nothin‟. Besides, at the

time I didn‟t have no idea what was going down. Hell, I still don‟t for that matter.”

The fact that Seaborn entertained Tagliani on his yacht was still not an indication of any wrong-doing.

It was his job as a member of the Committee to size up big investors. But if Seaborn was washing

money for Lou Cohen, that was a different ball game. Then the meetings on the yacht became

pertinent testimony.

I decided to change the subject.

“What do you know about Cherry McGee?” I asked.

“He‟s dead,” Harry said.

“I know he‟s dead. Before that.”

“He was a pistol over in Covington, did free-lance work for Draganata back when Bannion tried to

elbow in.”

“So McGee was working for the Triad when he came down here?”

“I don‟t know that for sure. Nobody seemed too upset when he got blown away, though.”

“When did you move down here?”

“With O‟Brian. I was one of the kid‟s wedding presents. So I came with them. Nine months ago,

maybe.”

“The house was already bought?”

“Yeah, that was also a wedding present.”

“So what was the reaction when Tagliani was iced?”

“Well, you know I been through a couple wars. When somebody in the family takes one, the first

thing happens, everybody gets together, tries to figure out the who and the why. They did it at

Franco‟s place the next day, the day of the wake.”

“What happened?”

“It ended up nothin‟. It didn‟t make sense. Both Franco and Draganata had got it by then. Everybody

else was Freakin‟ out. They didn‟t think anybody even knew who they were. They started talkin‟

about you.”

“What about me?”

“That you‟re sweet on Raines‟ old lady.”

“Who said that?”

“Costello, maybe.”

“So

“Costello says you‟re bad luck. There‟s a big hate on for you over there. It‟s why I was nervous for

O‟Brian to meet with you. They say you took down Skeet and then set fire under them in Cincy,

which is true.”

“So?”

“So Chevos says maybe he should take care of it and Costello says no, no Fed killing and besides,

Nance fucked it up once before and Nance gets really pissed, like bad enough, he could have taken

Costello‟s head off. Couple of us, we had to take them apart. Anyway, it blew over. Later Costello

tells Nance he‟s sorry, it‟s all blown over, and Chevos says maybe they can use this thing with the

Raines broad to bring you down.”

“What‟d Costello say?”

“He says he‟ll think about it and Chevos says you‟re a jinx. He says, „A black cat runs across your

path, you kill it, one way or another.‟ That‟s his exact words arid Costello repeats himself. „I‟ll think

about it,‟ he says.”

“Is there paper on me?”

“Not that I heard, just the beef is all. Jesus would you look at that.”

The two dogs were locked together in the centre of the pit. Blood was splashed on the pit walls, the

dirt floor, everywhere. The hog dog was no longer a pit virgin. Its face was shredded. I wanted to get

out of there.

“Anybody in the mob got a beef against the Taglianis?”

“Not that I heard.”

“Anybody inside got a hard-on for them?”

“Hey, it ain‟t like that, man. I told ya, everybody‟s happy.”

“Anything else?” I asked.

“Well . . there‟s one more thing I can give you. I heard something about a big coke shipment that‟s

coming in. Mucho kilos.”

“Well, what about it?” I demanded.

“All I know, there was some stuff comin‟ in from down south. Out of the country. I know this because

some of our girls are into snow and it‟s been short.”

“And..

“And the boat‟s late. Not to worry, is the word. Could be a storm or something. If it got busted, we‟d

already know. You guys brag about shit like that.”

“Maybe that‟s where Nance went, to bring the load in.”

“What about Nance?”

“He‟s gone underground. We‟ve been looking for him since Monday.”

“I don‟t know anything about that,” Harry Nesbitt said.

Down below, the fight had gone against the hog dog. The old warrior had it by the throat and was

snarling for the first time. You could tell it was almost over for the little pit virgin. His one leg was

dangling like it was broken and his throat was spilling blood.

“I‟m leaving,” I said to Nesbitt. “When do you want to leave town?”

“An hour ago.”

“Okay, I‟ll see what I can do. I mean, I‟ll do the best I can. I don‟t know what the hell you gave me

for this, but I‟ll talk to somebody and that somebody‟ll talk to somebody else and we‟ll get it together.

It may be tomorrow morning before I can swing it. You got a place to flop?”

“Yeah. Early tomorrow, huh?”

“You call me first thing.”

“Seven be okay?”

“Doesn‟t anybody in this town sleep past dawn?” I said.

But his attention was already back on the dogs. As I started down the tiers toward the door, the referee

stepped in and ended the fight.

The little hog dog was finished. He dragged himself by one good leg toward his master and collapsed

in the dirt, his tail wagging feebly. He looked up pitifully at his owner.

I turned away again and didn‟t see the owner take a .38 out of his belt and hold it down between the

hog dog‟s eyes.

The shot startled me. I whirled around and drew my Magnum without thinking. It took me a second or

two before I got the gun back out of sight.

Too late.

The giant at the door saw the move. As I got outside I heard his deep voice drawl, “Hey, boy.”

I kept walking. I walked straight toward Longnose Craves‟ limo.

“Hey, you with that hotshot pistol. Talkin‟ to you, boy.”

I stopped a few feet from the limo and turned around. Two friends had joined him. Just as big and just

as ugly.

“Want something?” I asked in the toughest voice I could dredge up.

“That was some kind of move there inside,” the giant said. “Like the old O.K. Corral.”

“It‟s a nervous tic,” I said. “Happens all the time.”

“You needa get it fixed.”

“I‟ll keep it in mind.”

He moved closer.

“The only firearms we „low hereabouts go with the house,” he said.

“I was just leaving.”

“You goin‟ the wrong way.”

Behind me, I heard a car window whirring. I turned. Graves was a shadow in the back seat, a pair of

eyes eager for trouble. The bad end of a .38 peeking over the windowsill took my attention away from

his eyes.

A voice as soft as baby skin said, “Let him do his move.”

They thought I was going for a heist.

Before I could say anything, the Mufalatta Kid‟s pickup roared out of the parking lot and skidded up

beside me, raising a small dust storm. When it cleared, Zapata and Mufalatta were there. I wondered

where the hell Zapata came from!

Zapata had his wallet in one hand and a police special in the other. The wallet was hanging open and

his buzzer was gleaming for all to see. Mufalatta was behind the door of the pickup, aiming his Cobra

at the limo.

“You sure know how to pep up a party,” said the Kid.

47

The tension was broken by the appearance of another limo. This one was black and I had seen it

before, in front of the Ponce Hotel after Draganata was killed. I even remembered the license plate,

ST-I. It pulled slowly toward us until its headlights were shining between us and Uncle Jolly‟s goon

squad. All weapons magically vanished. I heard Craves‟ window glide quietly back up.

“A lot of limos here tonight,” I said.

“Either one of these is a lot of limos,” the Mufalatta Kid said.

The driver‟s door opened and a tall, rangy man in a county uniform got out. He wasn‟t an inch over

six six and probably didn‟t weigh more than two hundred fifty pounds. He walked with a decided