The Hoods (13 page)

I thought back many years to the days when we sat huddled around Maxie just like this, at the exact same table, drinking coffee, whenever we had money, nibbling cheese knishes.

We were green kids then, fresh out of that old broken-down soup school. Before every escapade we had always adjourned to this table at Jonah Schimmel's for coffee and knishes, to plan our strategy. Big Max always assumed the leadership. He always called the signals and did all the planning—just as he was now doing.

I remembered there were five of us in those days—we four and Dominick—Dominick, may his soul rest in peace. Good old Dominick. How come I'm thinking of Dominick all of a sudden? I always do. What am I bullshitten myself for? Admit it, I had a secret superstition or belief that I was ashamed even to admit to myself, that Dominick or his spirit was watching over us, that Dommie was something like our Patron Saint.

We were inseparable then. If he could only see how we had worked our way up into the big time, how we had our fingers in every racket operating around New York, how we were a recognized name mob, an important unit in the Combination. He would have liked this new setup, this combine of every big-time mob in the country.

Maxie looked at me reproachfully. He knew I wasn't paying attention, and he didn't like it. He knew I was daydreaming. How the hell did I come to think of Dommie and the inner workings of the combination? It must be the pipe dream. Boy, that was a good dream. Every dream is a good one if I have my darling Dolores in my arms. Jesus, it was wonderful, goddamn, it was so real. I tingled when I thought of it.

Listen to Maxie, still going over the details. What the hell does he think? We're amateurs? Horseshit. Why the hell don't we get going? Yeh, I'm getting too sure of myself, a heist doesn't feaze me any more. Im getting too damn cocky. Maybe it's the opium that's giving me Dutch courage. Yeh, I feel a little high. I laughed aloud.

“Hey, Noodles, you still high from the pipe?”

Maxie nudged me. “What are you dreaming and laughing about?”

I said, “Who's dreaming and laughing?”

Max looked peeved. “You're mumbling to yourself. It will be a long time before we kick the gong around again if you let it get the best of you like that. Pay attention, will you?”

Maxie kept looking at me reproachfully as he went on talking.

“What's the matter, Noodles, you look groggy. This job has to be done fast and unnoticed.”

I cut him off. “Like a fart in a blizzard,” I said.

He smiled and patted me on the back. He called the waiter.

“Two cups of black coffee,” he ordered.

He insisted I drink them both. I did. It made me feel better, more awake. I lit a cigar and looked at Maxie for the next move.

He looked at his watch and said, “Lutkee should be here with the car any minute.”

We sat around smoking awhile longer, then we heard the brakes of a car stopping at the door. Cockeye walked to the doorway, came back and nodded.

He said, “The Caddy's outside.”

Maxie left a tip on the table, paid the check. We walked out.

Cockeye drove slowly up to Forty-fourth Street. He stopped a half block away from the freight entrance. The street was crowded with people rushing to work, typically indifferent New Yorkers. A rubbish truck was there. A big Swede was rolling the rubbish cans out on a hand truck. Maxie was sizing him up.

He murmured, “According to the description, that big guy must be the elevator runner. I'll handle him personally.”

We waited about fifteen minutes until the truck was loaded and it started pulling away. Maxie gave Cockeye the nod. Cockeye maneuvered the Caddy slowly into the space the truck had left. The big Swede was wheeling the empty cans back into the building. Like professional artists skilled in their act, hovering tensely in the wings, we waited in the car for the right cue.

Big Maxie got out of the car.

“Okay, let's go,” he said. He fell in step nonchalantly behind the Swede into the building.

Pat and I walked in single file behind Max.

Cockeye remained at the wheel. The Swede was loading his empties into the elevator. Between the rattling of the cans and his being engrossed in his duty, the Swede wasn't aware of our noiseless approach. Maxie walked up quietly behind him into the building. He smacked him with a powerful right hook under his ear. The Swede crumpled to the floor unconscious. Pat and I picked him up and threw him in the elevator among the empty cans.

We got into the elevator. Patsy tried the controls. Instead of going up, the elevator dropped into the basement.

Maxie calmly said, “Okay, it doesn't matter. We wait here awhile.”

We sat on the empty cans silently waiting and smoking. I was getting nervous and tense, but I tried not to show it. After awhile Maxie looked at his watch.

“Okay, let's go. It's five to nine. Put your gloves on.”

We did.

He worked the controls. After a few awkward starts, he ran the elevator to the twelfth floor. Nobody spoke. We were all business.

We looked down the hall. At the other end was the passenger elevator. Everything was correct to a “T.” So far the Finger's diagram was perfect.

At exactly nine a.m. the door of the passenger elevator opened. With the hunched-up eagerness of cats ready to spring on an unsuspecting mouse, we watched as a short, pompous, big-nosed man came strutting out.

Maxie whispered, “That's the bum. Okay, cover up.”

We slipped handkerchiefs over the lower part of our faces. I swished open my knife. The others took out Roscoes. We walked towards Big Nose. He was whistling happily. He didn't pay attention to us. I felt a little sorry for the guy, for the shock he was in for. Then I said to myself, “The hell with the guy. He's got plenty; it's either him or me.”

Big Max and I slunk ahead along the wall, stalking our prey like killer panthers. Big Nose saw us. He halted. He stopped whistling. Slowly, an expression of fear comes over his face. We pounced on him. I gestured menacingly with the knife across his throat. Maxie dug his Roscoe in Big Nose's belly, and hissed, “Keep quiet, bastard, or we kill you right here.”

His mouth fell open. His eyes got glassy. He started stuttering and mumbling to himself. Maxie pushed him into the office ahead of us. We concealed our weapons. The girl sat at the front desk. She was a good actress. She smiled and said, “Good morning” when she saw her boss. She pushed the button. The heavy steel screen door opened.

We all walked in. There was a clerk facing us. He looked at us with shocked interest as we produced our weapons. He stepped toward us. In a foolishly wondering manner he murmured, “See here, what's going on?”

Maxie smacked him on the head with a gun. He sank slowly to the floor mumbling in pain, “Oh, my head.”

A tall, thin guy came running out of the inner office, a look of fear and amazement on his face. Patsy banged him over the head with his gun. The guy lay on the floor bleeding and moaning. We tied and gagged both of them. All this time the girl was staring at us with fascinated interest. Both times, when the men were hit, she emitted an odd, drawn-out, “Ooooh, ooooh,” as if it thrilled her. She squirmed, rubbing against the corner of her desk.

Maxie pushed Big Nose toward the large safe. He hissed at him, “Okay, bastard, open up.”

Big Nose shook his head. “No, I won't.”

Maxie's open left hand traveled from the floor. It whoozed like a bullwhip through the air. It landed an awful smack across Big Nose's face. His toupee flew off his head. The side of his face grew blood red. The upper part started swelling immediately. His mouth hung open, twisted to one side grotesquely. The jaw was broken. He was crying, pleading incoherently for mercy. In dread panic he started to turn the combination on the safe.

I had one eye on the girl. That smack Maxie gave Big Nose did it to her. She was a skinny, flat chested thing. She looked the mousy, prim, quiet type. But her quietness was deceptive. Inside she was burning. Her face was tellingly blotched and flushed a vivid red with excitement.

After the smack Maxie gave Big Nose, she lost control. She went berserk. She flew at us. I grabbed her. She slashed at me with her long nails. I ducked my head and held on to her.

I panted in her ear, “Stop it, you bitch, you don't have to put up that good an act.”

She didn't answer. She was trying to bite me. I let her go and tried to get away. She just held on tighter and tried to rip my eyes out, sobbing hysterically all the while. I had to drop my shiv and hold on to her with both hands.

The wild girl knew where a man was most vulnerable. She tried to knee me. I had to hold her knee captive between mine. I couldn't help it. I experienced a terrific erection.

When it came to women, I had no conscience. Size, shape, color, creed, type, time or place, nothing mattered. I looked at women with only one thought in mind. For me they existed only for one purpose. But this bitch, at this time and place, wasn't for me.

I didn't want to hurt her.

I hissed in her ear, “Cut it out, cut it out, what the hell's the matter with you?”

She panted, “Beat me, beat me.”

“Why?” I gasped. “Your act is good enough as it is. Cut it out.”

“No, no,” she sobbed, “beat me. I love it, I love it.”

She flayed me with her arms. I was distracted. I grabbed at her arms, and let go of her knee.

The female sadist came up with her leg in my groin. Luckily I tightened up in time. All she did was knock my breath out for an instant. It made me lose my temper. I clipped a left hook on her chin.

She went sprawling. She had no girdle, no bloomers under her dress. She lay there, her legs spread wide apart.

This by-play with the girl took only a moment or so. I looked around the room. Pat was standing guard at the door. The two men on the floor were gaping up at us in fright. I could see that all their reflexes were dulled with horror. They were in a numbed state.

Big Nose was still fumbling with the combination. His hands were trembling. It took him a few moments before he opened the safe, disclosing its cavernous interior. It gave me a strange feeling of morbid lust. I guess it was a carry over from the tussle I had just had. The thought of the girl lying on the floor was bothering me. The action of opening the safe renewed the terrific erection. Or was it the thought of the girl falling and being exposed? Somehow it was all related in my mind. Anyway, the safe seemed to give me a sensual thrill. I dived in.

With an intense feeling of gratification, I grabbed little envelopes filled with diamonds from little drawers in the safe. I handed them out to Maxie. He crammed them into his pockets. The gloves I was wearing made it a bit awkward. I dropped an envelope, spilling the brilliant stones.

Maxie leaned inside and cautioned, “Take it easy, Noodles, take it easy.”

He examined the inside of the safe. He pulled out each drawer to see if I had missed anything. He whispered, “This is it. We've got the whole jack pot. Okay, Noodles, cut the phone and the alarm wires.”

I picked up my knife and did my job. Max and Patsy pushed or dragged the three terrified men into the inner office.

“Better tie that crazy broad, Noodles, and put her in there, too,” Max said.

I looked down at her. She was conscious. She looked up at me with erotic eyes mere slits. I bent down to tie her. She was completely different from what she had been. She lay passively as I tied her up, but the erotic obscenities she whispered in my ears belied her meekness.

When I carried her into the inner office, she promised all sorts of pleasures if I would meet her some night. I shook my head.

“I don't mix business with pleasure, baby,” I said.

I couldn't resist giving her a feel as I put her down. She closed her eyes and squirmed on the ground like an animal in heat.

Max and Patsy missed all my by-play with the girl. They were aware only of her general hysterical condition. They attributed that to the violence of the moment.

Max looked around the office.

He nodded his head in satisfaction, and snapped his fingers as a signal. We pulled off the handkerchiefs and put our rods in our holsters.

We made our exit, and got into the freight elevator. Patsy pushed the control for “down.” The Swede was coming to. He tried to get to his feet, and as he stumbled, he raised a rumpus, knocking cans down in the process.

Maxie snapped to Patsy, “Quiet that bastard, he's getting as noisy as two skeletons screwing on a tin roof.”

Patsy took his persuader out and banged the Swede a terrific whack over the head.

The big Swede lay quiet.

We reached the street level, and walked calmly, one at a time, out of the building.

Cockeye was sitting at the wheel, the motor idling. We got into the Caddy.

“Eddie's Hotel,” Maxie said.

Cockeye pulled skillfully out into the moving traffic. We reached the hotel. Smiling Eddie was standing in the lobby. He nodded to us. Maxie gave him the sign to stay “put.”

We went into Eddie's private office, and locked the door. Maxie opened the safe, took a key out of his pocket, unlocked our personal compartment. He put the envelopes in, and shut the safe. We walked out, and Eddie gave us a knowing nod.