May There Be a Road (Ss) (2001) (13 page)

Coolly, Gurney looked Cat over, then glanced at Nick. "They're cutting the rats in larger sizes these days," he said quietly.

"That don't get you no place," Spelvin said.

"Finn's our boy. We'll take care of him."

Finn felt his face flush as he looked at the champion. For the first time he was seeing him without resentment and anger. In Gurney was a touch of something he hadn't seen in many men. Maybe that was why he was champion.

"Downey," Gurney said, "you have your own choice to make, of course, but it seems to me Mullaney has done pretty well by you, and I'm ready to help."

"I promised Spelvin," Downey said.

Gurney turned abruptly and walked away.

Jimmy Mullaney swore softly and followed him.

Spelvin smiled at Downey. "We'll get along, kid. You made the smart play.... Bernie, is the Gilman fight on?"

"A week from Monday. Finn Downey and Tony Gilman."

"You'll get five hundred bucks for your end,"

Spelvin said. "You need some dough now?" "He can use some," Bernie said. "Finn's always broke."

Finn turned resentful eyes on Bernie, but when he walked away there was an advance of a hundred dollars in his pockets.

Then he remembered the expression on Mullaney's face, and the hundred dollars no longer cheered him. And Glen Gurney maybe he had been sincere in wanting to help. What kind of a mess was this anyway?

The arena was crowded when Finn Downey climbed into the ring to meet Tony Gilman. Glancing down into the ringside seats, he saw Mullaney, and beside him was the champ. Not far awa) Aline was sitting with Joe, the oldest of the Downey family.

When the bell sounded, he went out fast. He lashed out with a left, and the blond fighter slammed both hands to the body with short, wicked punches.

He clinched, they broke, and Finn moved in, landing a left, then missing a long right.

Gilman walked around him, then moved in fast and low, hitting hard. Downey backed up. His left wasn't finding Gilman like it should, but give him time. One good punch with his right was all he wanted, just one!

Gilman ripped a right to the ribs, then hooked high and hard with a left. Downey backed away, then cut loose with the right. Gilman stepped inside and sneered:

"Where'd you find that punch, kid? In an alley?"

Finn rushed, swinging wildly. He missed, then clipped Gilman with a short left and the blond fighter slowed.

Gilman weaved under another left, smashed a wicked right to the heart, then a left and an overhand right to the chin that staggered Downey.

Finn rushed again, and the crowd cheered as he pushed Gilman into the ropes. Smiling coldly at Finn, Gilman stabbed two fast lefts to his face. Finn tasted blood, and rushed again. Tony gave ground, then boxed away in an incredible display of defense, stopping any further punches.

The bell sounded, and Finn walked to his corner.

He was disturbed, for he couldn't get started against Gilman. There was a feeling of latent power in the fighter that warned him, and a sense of futility in his own fighting, which was ineffective against Gilman.

The second round was a duplicate of the first, both men moving fast, and Tony giving ground before Downey's rushes, but making Finn miss repeatedly. Three times Finn started the right, but each time it curled helplessly around Gilman's neck.

"You sap!" Gilman sneered in a clinch. "Who told you you could fight?"

He broke, then stabbed a left to Finn's mouth and crossed a solid right that stung. Downey tried to slide under Gilman's left, but it met his face halfway, and he was stopped flat-footed for a right cross that clipped him on the chin.

The third and fourth rounds flitted by, and Downey, tired with continual punching, came up for the fifth despairing. No matter what he tried, Gilman had the answer. Gilman was unmarked, but there was a thin trickle of blood from Finn's eyes at the end of the round, and his lip was swollen.

In the ringside seats he heard a man say, "Downey's winning this," but the words gave him no pleasure, for he knew his punches were not landing solidly and he had taken a wicked pounding.

Gilman moved in fast, and Downey jabbed with a left that landed solidly on Tony's head, much to Finn's surprise. Then he rushed Gilman to the ropes. Coming off the ropes, he clipped Tony again, and the blond fighter staggered and appeared hurt.

Boring in, Finn swung his right--and it landed!

Gilman rolled with the punch, then fell against Finn, his body limp. As Downey sprang back, Tony fell to the canvas.

The referee stepped in and counted, but there was no movement from Gilman. He had to be carried to his corner. As Finn lowered him to a stool, Tony said hoarsely: "I could lick you with one hand!"

Flushing, Finn Downey walked slowly back across the ring, and when the cheering crowd gathered around him, there was no elation in his heart. He saw Gurney looking at him, and turned away.

As he followed Bernie and Norm Hunter toward the dressing room, the crowd was still cheering, but inside him something lay dead and cold. Yet he had glimpsed the faces of Joe and Aline; they were flushed and excited, enthusiastic over his victory.

Bernie grinned at him. "See, kid?

It's the smart way that matters. You couldn't lick one side of Gilman by rights, but after Cat fixes "em, they stay fixed!"

Anger welled up in Downe but he turned his back on them, getting on his shoes. When he straightened up, they were walking out, headed for the local bar. He stared after them, and felt disgust for them and for himself.

Outside, Aline and Joe were waiting.

"Oh, Finn!" Aline cried. "It was so wonderful! And everyone was saying you weren't anywhere good enough for Tony Gilman! That will show them, won't it?"

"Yeah, yeah!" He took her arm. "Let's go eat, honey."

As he turned away with them, he came face-to-face with Glen Gurney and two girls.

Two girls, but Finn Downey could see but one.

She was tall, and slender, and beautiful. His eyes held her, clinging.

Gurney hesitated, then said quietly, "Finn, I'd like you to meet my sister, Pamela.

And my fiancee, Mary."

Finn acknowledged the introduction, his eyes barely flitting to Mary. He introduced Joe and Aline to them, then the girl was gone, and Aline was laughing at him.

"Why, Finn! I never saw a girl affect you like that before!"

"Aw, it wasn't her!" he blustered. "I just don't like Gurney. He's too stuck-up!"

"I thought he was nice," Aline protested, "and he's certainly handsome. The champion of the world...

Do you think you'll be champ someday, Finn?"

"Sure." His eyes narrowed. "After I lick him."

"He's a good man, Finn," Joe said quietly. "He's the hardest man to hit with a right that I ever saw."

The remark irritated Finn, yet he was honest enough to realize he was bothered because of what Glen Gurney had said about his fighting. Yet he could not think of that for long, for he was remembering that tall willowy girl with the lovely eyes, Pamela Gurney.

And she had to be the champ's sister. The man he would have to defeat for the title!

Moreover, he would probably tell her about tonight, for Finn knew his knockout of Tony Gilman would not fool a fighter of Gurney's skill. The champion would know only too well just what had happened.

Somehow even the money failed to assuage his bitterness and discontent. A small voice within told him Gilman and Bernie were right. He was simply not good enough. If Gilman had not taken a dive, he could never have whipped him, and might have been cut to ribbons.

Then, he remembered that he hadn't hit Gilman with his right. He had missed, time and again.

If he could not hit Gilman, then he could not hit the champ, and the champ was not controlled by Cat Spelvin. Finn had a large picture of himself in the ring with Glen Gurney, and the picture was not flattering.

Spelvin had told him he would be fighting Webb Carter in two weeks, and Webb was a fairly good boy, though not t so good as Gilman. The knockout of Gilman had established Finn Downey as a championship possibility. Now a few more knockouts, and Cat could claim a title bout.

His At daybreak the next morning, Finn Downey was on the road, taking a two-mile jaunt through the park. He knew what he wanted, and suddenly, as he dog trotted along, he knew how to get it.

He wanted to be champion of the world. That, of course.

He wanted the fame and money that went with it, but now he knew he wanted something else even more, and it was something that all of Cat Spelvin's crookedness could not gain for him--he wanted the respect of the men he fought, and of Jimmy Mullaney, who had been his friend.

He was jogging along, taking it easy, when from up ahead he saw Pamela Gurney. She was riding a tall sorrel horse, and she reined in when she saw him.

"You're out earl aren't you?" she asked.

He stopped, panting a little from the run.

"Getting in shape," he said. "I've got another fight cornin' up."

"You did well against Tony Gilman," she said, looking at him thoughtfully.

He glanced up quickly, trying to see if there had been sarcasm in her voice, but if she knew that had been a fixed fight, she showed no sign of it.

"My brother says you could be a great fighter," she added, "if you'd work."

Finn flushed, then he grinned. "I guess I never knew how much there was to learn."

"You don't like Glen, do you?" she asked.

"You don't understand; I have to fight for what I get. Your brother had it handed to him. How can you know what it's like for me?"

Her eyes flashed. "What right have you to say that?

My brother earned everything he ever had in this world!"

Suddenly, all the unhappiness in him welled to the surface. "Don't hand me that! Both of you have always had things easy. Nice clothes, cars, money, plenty to eat. Gurney is champ, and how he got it, I don't know, but I've got my own ideas."

Pamela turned her horse deliberately.

"You're so very sure of yourself, aren't you?" she said.

"So sure you're right, and that you know it all! Well, Mr. Finn Downey, after your fight with Tony Gilman the other night, you haven't any room to talk!"

His face went red. "So? He told you, didn't he? I might have known he would."

"Told me?" Pamela's voice rose.

"What kind of fool do you think I am? I've been watching fights since I was able to walk, and you couldn't hit Tony Gilman with that roundhouse right of yours if he was tied hand and foot!"

She cantered swiftly away. Suddenly rage shook him. He started away, and abruptly his rage evaporated. Pamela was the girl he wanted, the one girl above all others. Yet what right did she have to talk? Glen Gurney certainly was no angel. But burning within him was a fiery resolution to become so good they could never say again what they were saying now. Pamela, Gilman, Bernie. How cheap they must think him!

He recalled the helplessness he had felt against Gilman, and knew that no matter what Glen Gurney thought of him, once in the ring he would get no mercy from the champ. He had begun to realize how much there was to learn and knew that he would never learn, at least while he was being handled by Spelvin.

What he should do was go to see Jimmy Mullaney. But he hated the thought of admitting he was wrong. Besides, Jimmy might not even talk to him, and there was plenty of reason why he should not.

Still, if he could learn a little more by the time he fought Carter, he might make a creditable showing.

He found Mullaney in the cheap hotel where he lived.

The little man did not smile--comj laid his magazine aside. "Jimmy," Finn said, "I've made a fool of myself!" Mullaney reached for a cigarette. He looked past the lighted match and said, "That's right. You have." Jimmy took a deep drag. "Well, every man has his own problems to settle, Finn. What's on your mind now?"

"I want you to teach me all you know."

Jimmy stared at him. "Kid, when you were my fighter that was one thing. Now you belong to Cat. You know what he'd do to me? He might even have the boys give me a couple of slugs in the back. He's got money in you now. You think Gilman did that dive for fun? He got paid plenty, son. Because Cat thought it would be worth it to build you up. Not that he won't see Gilman work you over when the time is ripe. Spelvin wants you for a quick killing in the bets."

"Jimmblecf" Finn said, "suppose you train me on the side? Then suppose I really stop those guys? Then when Spelvin's ready to have me knocked off, suppose I don't knock off so easy?"

Mullaney scowled and swore. "It's risky, kid. He might get wise, then we'd both be in the soup." He grinned. "I'd like to cross that crook, though."

"Jimmy--give it to me straight. Do you think I can be good enough to beat Gurney or Gilman?"

Mullaney rubbed out the cigarette in a saucer.

"With hard work and training, you could beat Gilman, especially with him so sure now. He'll never figure you'll improve, because nobody gets better fighting setups. Gurney is a good kid.