Standing at the Scratch Line (15 page)

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The day of the picnic was absolutely clear, but since there was a chance of rain, the picnic had been relocated to Jim Europe’s aunt’s house in Brooklyn, since she could accommodate more guests inside if that was necessary. Jim’s adopted aunt, Mrs. Iona Washington, had a large backyard with four long wooden tables. She was a thin, brown-skinned woman in her early fifties who wore her salt-and-pepper hair tied in a neat bun on top of her head. Since she had no children of her own, her adopted nephew Jim was the light of her life. She had eagerly organized the early arrivals into squads and assigned them various chores. The women were inside cutting up fruit and assisting with the hot foods while the men were in the yard splitting wood for the grill and chopping ice blocks.

Big Ed was splitting three-foot lengths of oak, King selectively placed additional wood in the grill’s firebox, and Professor sat at a table adjacent to the grill turning pieces of meat marinading in a gigantic bowl. The three men worked without speaking, each focusing on his particular assignment, working in the quietude engendered by familiarity. This sweet intangible sense of harmony was disrupted when Jim Europe joined their group.

He was obviously upset, pacing back and forth several times before he ventured a word. “I can’t stand it! I really need to know what happened to those men last week!”

“What men?” asked Professor.

“I don’t have time to explain it,” Jim said impatiently. He stared at King. “Did you let them go?”

“I dropped them off at a friend’s for safe keeping,” King said with a smile. “Don’t worry. They won’t be traced back to the Palace.”

“What do you mean, don’t worry?” Jim demanded. “These guys are killers. They have an army!”

“So do we,” King answered. “Why don’t you let me take care of this side of the business? You book the acts. I’ll provide security.”

Jim couldn’t let it go. “This is New York! People don’t just disappear. This isn’t wartime France! These guys have bought off the cops. If we don’t do business with them, the cops’ll close us down.”

“They ain’t the only ones who can pay off the cops,” King answered. He turned to Professor. “Bring over them ribs. I’m ready to put some wet hickory chips on the fire now.”

“How long do we have until they find the bodies?” Jim asked.

“Leave it, Jim,” King said quietly. “They ain’t gon’ find no bodies, least ways not the way you mean. Don’t ask no more questions unless you ready to participate as a soldier.”

“What do I tell the next collector that the Minettis send?” Jim asked. “I don’t want to seem like I’m not thankful for your partnership, but you’ve started a war! These men have the power to break careers, destroy businesses, and end lives! This is something that we should have a serious talk about before anything else is done!”

“If someone comes to collect, pay ’em ten percent off the top!” King replied.

“What about Tino and his men? They were seen at the club! People talk! Suppose . . .?” Jim was momentarily dumbfounded by his inability to reach King.

“Who’s gon’ talk?” King challenged. “Ain’t nobody seen nothin’. All we have to say is that they came by and told us the conditions to stay open and we paid ’em! We gave them ten percent off the top!” King opened the grill and smoke billowed out.

Jim looked King in the eye and spoke quietly. “I got to live here. I’ve got people here. I’m vulnerable. Your people are a long way from here. You can operate like a lone wolf. I can’t.”

“If you don’t crack, nothin’ else will,” King advised.

Jim sighed and walked away.

“What’s going on?” Professor asked. “You taking on the mob and you haven’t even been in New York three months?”

“They was set to put the squeeze on us and it looked to me like they wanted to hurt somebody or make an example of them. I knew it wasn’t gon’ be me and I didn’t feel like lettin’ it happen to my partner neither. Plus, I’ve always found that if somebody wants to hurt you, the best thing to do is get rid of them permanently.”

“You did that?” Professor asked.

“Well,” King responded, “by Wednesday they were permanently gone.”

“You’re messing with some big-time people now,” Professor said with a note of concern in his voice. “Are you sure you’ve covered any possible trace to you or Jim? They’d kill his whole family if they found out.”

“Is they bigger than the German army?” King said as he swung around to face Professor. “You know I ain’t ever led no squad into somethin’ they didn’t know about first. You know I ain’t never left a squad member on the battlefield if he was alive. I ain’t reckless about the lives under my command. I know Jim has weak spots. I’m on top of it.”

“Why didn’t you kill them immediately?” Professor asked. It wasn’t like King to let enemies live for a week if it was within his power to kill them right away.

King looked around to see if there were other people close by. He leaned toward Professor. “What’s your interest? You gon’ join in?”

“I just wanted to hear how well you had things thought out,” Professor explained. “And no, I don’t plan on joining you. I want my life to follow a different path.”

“He got it planned to the tee,” Big Ed said, referring to King. “Ain’t no way they gon’ know it’s us. We got us a plan and there’s money in it too. Your share would probably be enough for you to start that school you always talkin’ about, wouldn’t it, King?”

“Probably, but he ain’t interested in stealin’ from the white man. He want to take it legit and legal,” King smiled, flashing white teeth.

“Enough for the school?” Professor questioned. “Full cost, we’re talking almost forty thousand dollars. Is that the total take or is that each?”

“Oh, we’s talkin’ each and we may get more’n that,” Big Ed laughed. “We expecting to take—”

“That’s enough,” King interrupted. He looked at Professor. “You in?”

“Even if there wasn’t money involved, I knew you’d try to bamboozle me into joining,” Professor shook his head. “Yes, I’m in. What do you have?”

“We gon’ wait a couple of weeks and hit the main Minetti collection house over on East Sixth Street. They just moved there two weeks ago. We got the layout, the passwords, everythin’,” King said. “It’ll be like chasin’ McHenry into that minefield. We got the upper hand.”

Professor was awestruck. “Are you crazy? They’ll search for years to find the people who would dare to steal from them. Then they’ll kill everybody. This is madness!”

“They won’t ever know it’s us,” King answered. “They got a big territory fight goin’ with Gus Milano. On Wednesday we hit Milano’s favorite restaurant and killed about four of his boys. We left a couple of Minetti’s boys in a car across the street with a machine gun.”

“Suppose they question them?” Professor asked.

“They ain’t gon’ question them,” King asserted, “ ’cause we blew up the car before we left.”

Professor was amazed. “How did you get to know all this information so quickly? You just took these guys last weekend.”

“Remember Cap Strickland?” Big Ed asked. “That sergeant in C Company?”

“The one who liked to torture German prisoners under the pretense of interrogating them?” Professor asked. “Sure, how could I forget one of the most deranged people I’ve ever met?”

King said, “We took Minetti and his boys over there. Cap’s family got a caterin’ warehouse in Brooklyn. Cap was only too happy to try out his stuff. Two of the guys was soft and they broke in minutes. The third one didn’t say nothin’ ’til we worked on ’em a bit. Anyways, by Sunday night, we knew what we needed to know.”

“When do you hit Minetti’s?”

“Next week or two. We wants to wait until Milano has figured out that it was Minetti who did his boys. We want the two families to be fightin’ when we hit,” King answered as he lifted the grill’s cover.

“You haven’t told Jim any of this? That doesn’t seem right, if he’s a partner.”

“He ain’t got the stomach for it,” King answered, lighting up a cheroot. “I don’t expect him to be too pleased with me anytime soon. He wanted to lay down and let these fools walk over him. Since I didn’t go for that, we ain’t seein’ eye to eye.”

“Jim’s bought us all tickets to go to the opening of the ‘Maid of Harlem’ tonight. Are you still going or are you planning to skip that?”

King smiled. “That depends on Jim.”

Professor shook his head. He had an intuition that King’s penchant for violence would lead him into trouble sooner or later, but it was still a surprise that it had happened so soon. “How many people know about your plan to hit the Minettis’ collection house?”

“Three: you, Big Ed, and me. Everything’s on a need-to-know basis.”

Big Ed said, “King got it planned like it was a military mission.”

“How many people on your team?” Professor asked.

“Eight, includin’ you. Except for Cap, everybody’s from our squad.” King dropped his voice because a group of about fifteen people came out of the house and were milling around. “We’ll go over the plan at Smitty’s house some time next week.”

King went over and sat on a bench under the kitchen window. Although his thoughts often returned to New Orleans, King knew he had not tasted all of New York’s delights. Even if there was no military action against the Minettis, he would have stayed for the lights of the city. Its flashing neon colors intrigued him. Sometimes he would go to Times Square at night and stand in the shadows, marveling at the miracles of electricity. He also loved the big-city pace and sophistication. But the principal factors keeping him in New York were his reluctance to break up his close relationships with his army comrades and the fact that he loved the new music being played by Europe’s band.

Living outside of New Orleans, King had heard plenty of the ragtime music being played by local musicians. Nonetheless, he had never heard jazz played before he heard Europe’s sixty-seven-piece marching band lead the 369th to join the French Seventh Army in a small town south of the Marne. As the regiment reassembled in rank upon rank before an impromptu reviewing stand in a meadow outside of town, the band broke into some hip, swinging music with wah-wah trumpets. King had never heard such music before, but he recognized it instantly and took it for his own. The music seemed to embody the spirit of the whole regiment. There was a proud smile on every colored soldier’s face. It was a memory that King carried with him throughout the rest of the war.

Over his head, King heard the sounds of women’s voices. There appeared to be three different women standing at the window. Their exchanges fluttered down to him without loss of clarity. They were discussing the available men at the party, along with what facts they knew about them.

“See that short, dark one with the glasses?” said one woman with a husky voice. “He’s one of Jim’s partner’s in the Rockland. So you know he’s got money.”

“How you find this stuff out, Mamie? He don’t look like nothing particular. How did he get hooked up with Jimmy Reese?” asked a high-pitched voice. “He don’t look show biz.”

Mamie responded, “They were in the army together. All three of his partners. The one with the glasses and—See that big fellow sitting across the table from him? He’s another partner, but wait, baby, until you see the third one. He’s the doll. He ain’t but twenty and is good-looking as can be.”

“I heard about him. He’s the dangerous one,” the third voice joined in. “He was in a suicide squad behind the lines. I’ve seen him. He’s good-looking alright, but there’s something cold in his eyes. They say he’d as soon kill you as shake hands with you.”

The high-pitched voice responded with emphasis, “But Leah, he has money, so you’ll die rich!” Her remark brought laughter from her two friends.

“Alice sounds like she’s changed her requirements from looks to money,” the third voice said with a chuckle.

Mamie dropped her voice conspiratorially. “How bad can a twenty-year-old be, especially if he has lots of money?” The women began laughing again.

The third voice said, “He’s too young.”

“For who?” exclaimed Mamie. “I’m so tired of old, burned-out entertainers and agents that some young, virile buck may be just what I need.”