The Hoods (43 page)

Max looked at me. I shook my head at Max.

I said, “Listen to me, kid. There's a lot for you to learn. Especially this end of it. This branch of labor relations work isn't found in any textbooks or taught in any schools. But it's the most important part of labor relations. Don't you know that whichever side we happen to be on usually comes out on top?”

“Yes, but you fellows have no business interfering. You aren't workingmen; neither are you employers. It's between us—the bosses and us —let us fight it out.”

“Oh, for Christ sake, Jim, don't be so goddamned stupid,” Fitz muttered.

“Leave him alone, Fitz,” I said, “the kid's perfectly right. It's true we have no business interfering. But it seems in the scheme of things we're a necessary evil. One or the other side invariably calls us in. And, as far as I know, the bosses were the first to use us—us—” I hesitated.

“Gunmen,” Jimmy muttered.

“Aw, for Christ sake, Jim,” Fitz lamented.

“Okay, Fitz,” Max laughed, “we ain't embarrassed.”

“Yeh, as I was saying, it's unfortunate but true. Bosses originated this custom from way back—of hiring strong-arm men to intimidate workmen and their elected union officials. And if they couldn't intimidate the union officials, the employers, through their lawyers and business associations, bribed them to sell their men out. This part also is not mentioned in textbooks or taught in schools. Intimidation and bribery are the fundamentals, the basic, the deciding factors, in most labor disputes. Something the public rarely finds out about.”

I looked at the clock. It was a quarter after two. Salvy was really late.

“Besides, Jim,” I continued, “and Fitz will bear me out, if we didn't step in, some other mob would. This part you can understand for yourself. Before Salvy, there was somebody else, wasn't there, Fitz?”

“Yeh,” Fitz said, “a little mob from uptown.”

“Salvy chased them,” I pointed out, “and we ease Salvy out. Get it, Jim? You'll always have somebody to contend with. So it may as well be us. We have influence. We can do things for you. We'll save you a lot of headaches, especially after you're completely organized. All sorts of parasites will flock around for a shake: cops, city officials, petty hoods and you will refer them to us. We'll take care of them. Besides, believe it or not, we're partial to labor. We were organizers ourselves once. You and your men will get a better break from us than from anybody else.”

“You were organizers?” Jimmy snorted. “For what union?”

“Laundry drivers,” I said.

“All right, say I'll play ball with you fellows. I'm not saying I will, mind you—”

“We're sure you will, kiddo,” Max said.

“I'm not sure,” the kid flashed back.

“Go ahead, Jim, what were you saying?”

I looked at Max.

“How do I know somebody else doesn't come around and muscle in, and push you guys out?”

Maxie and Patsy laughed.

I smiled. “Of course it's possible, Jim, like anything is possible—like we'll have an earthquake in New York tomorrow. But it's highly improbable. We're the largest and most powerful mob in the country.”

Fitz leaned over and whispered in excited, delighted tones, “Combination?”

I nodded.

“I'll think it over just the same. I'll consult the membership.” Jim was pale but stubborn.

“I'll talk to him, private. I'll explain the facts of life,” Fitz said.

“Look, Jim,” I began impatiently, 'let me explain it this way—”

I didn't. I was interrupted. The door opened.

Never, in all my experiences have I laid eyes on two such apparitions as came through the Paradise door. I'll be goddamned if I ever saw anything—fowl, fish, man or beast, living or dead—as grotesque as this twosome. Not even in my wildest pipe dreams. The devil himself must have paired this combination: nobody else could have. No mere accident produced this masterpiece of hideousness.

I looked at Max. Max looked at me. We couldn't believe it.

One was a long, lean, creepy-looking bastard. He approached with a gliding, reptilian movement. I could almost believe he had no spinal column. His rubber-like torso seemed to undulate. His elongated head grew out from an abnormally extended neck. His face was a sickly jaundiced color. As he looked at us with his beady, bright eyes, his head darted forward and from side to side, in sharp, jerky movements. He wore a flashy, form-fitting, yellowish-brown, striped suit with a shirt and tie of similar color. This was the guy who was reputed to have untold knife and bullet holes all over his body. This was the much publicized Snake, the one who couldn't be killed, by a car or by any other lethal weapon, who always survived to kill those who were his enemies. This was the man who was too vicious and irresponsible to be a member of the Combine. There was no mistaking him.

And his companion—boy!—was he a distorted-looking sonofabitch. He was slightly gibbous and bow-legged. He was flat-nosed and thick-lipped. He was a throwback to way back. A real Pithecanthropus type. He was a genuine shmuck with ear laps. He was Willie the Ape.

At the sight of us they stopped in their tracks in the middle of the room. The four of us had our rods out. We walked over, and surrounded them. Salvy's hand was reaching for his pocket.

Maxie barked out, “None of that, Salvy. Let's keep it on a friendly basis.”

They looked perplexed, but defiant.

“Who are you guys? What do you want?” Salvy said. He jerked his head from side to side.

“If you don't mind, Salvy,” I said, “we have a little business to discuss.”

I motioned to some chairs at a nearby table. Reluctantly they sat down. We put our guns away.

I saw the Fairy standing at the door of the office watching us. The two delegates, still at the table, looked startled at the turn of events.

Maxie came right to the point. He said, “We're from the Combination. We're taking the strike over—and the union. And you guys are stepping out.”

The Snake gave each of us a quick, furtive glance. “How do I know you guys are from the Combination? Besides, me and Willie don't belong. Why should we take orders from the Combination?”

“We're not asking you to take orders,” I said. “We're giving you orders—lay off.”

“That ain't right, the Combination muscling in on everything,” Willie the Ape said. “We got to eat, too, you know.”

“Why?” Patsy asked coldly.

“Why?” the Ape repeated foolishly. “We got to live, don't we?”

“Why you got to live?” Cockeye looked Willie in the eye.

“Keep quiet, Willie,” the Snake said. To us he said, “So this is it?”

“This is it,” Maxie said coldly.

Salvy said, “What can I say? Nuthin.” He shrugged.

“Say nuthin. Do nuthin. And nuthin will happen to you,” Maxie said.

Willie looked at Salvy. Salvy looked at us. They said nuthin.

The Fairy came over. He said to me, “Can you make these ruffians stay away from this place? I don't want them hanging around.”

The Snake slithered across the table at the Fairy, an ice pick in his hand. He hissed, “You friggin queer. I told you I got a piece of this joint.”

The Fairy danced backward, out of his reach. He shrilled, “You filthy snake in the grass.”

“I'll kill you, you friggin fairy, and take the whole place away,” Salvy hissed.

“You won't, you won't. I'm not afraid of you.” The Fairy danced around angrily but at a safe distance. “Chase those ruffians out of this place.” He shrilled at us.

Salvy looked at us.

Maxie said, “We don't interfere in a lover's quarrel.”

The Ape guffawed. Salvy glared. He walked toward the Fairy. The Fairy danced backwards, onto the dance floor. The Snake followed with the ice pick. The two delegates looked at the tableau, their mouths wide open.

I walked after the Snake, my hand in my pocket fingering my knife.

I called out, “Hey, Salvy, cut the crap.”

He wheeled around at me.

I said, “Go ahead, scram, take a powder. Leave the Fairy alone.”

He glared at me for a moment. Then he walked away into the toilet.

The Fairy came over. “Good God, isn't this situation awful? I'm really ashamed of myself. How did I ever complicate myself with that disgusting creature.”

The Ape said, “G'wan, you friggin Fairy. Didn't you say you loved him once? And didn't you make a play for me, too?”

Theodore was about to answer when the door opened. There stood a man. He filled the entire frame of the doorway, he was that big. What a goddamn place, I thought: everything comes into this joint. He walked in.

He was a colossus: about six foot six with an enormous potbelly. His red face was crisscrossed with tiny purplish veins. He looked as though he ate rare steak every meal. His pig eyes glared from behind thick bifocals. The tip of his long thin nose actually ran into his mouth.

Fitz came hurriedly over to us.

He whispered, “That's the big mucky muck from the employers' group. Anything he says that group does. I been on his payroll. His name is Crowning.”

I nodded to Fitz. I walked over to the guy. I said, “Come in, come in. We were just discussing you, Mr. Crowning.”

“Discussing me? Who was discussing me? Where's Salvy?”

“Salvy's slightly indisposed for the moment. We're in his confidence. We're close associates of his.” I smiled at the guy.

“Huh,” he grunted as he followed me to our table. He nodded to the Ape.

He said, “Hello, Fitz.”

“Have a drink?” I invited.

I poured a round.

He said, “Thanks” as he reached for his. He raised his glass and chuckled. “To a long and bloody strike.”

Jimmy said, “Horseshit.”

“Who is this kid?” Browning asked.

“He's all right, he's the new delegate. A little new at the game,” Fitz said.

“New delegate, hey?” The big guy said, “Young to be a delegate— well, well, I like young boys.” He gave Jimmy a pinch on his buttocks.

Jim edged away. He snarled, “Keep your goddamn hands off me, you fat bastard.”

The big guy looked hurt.

He said, “I didn't come here to get insulted. I came here on business.”

“Okay,” Max said, “let's get down to business.”

“Where's Salvy? Let's wait for him,” the big guy said.

“We can make decisions without him,” I said. “How is it going at your end?”

“Without Salvy? All right—if you think it's all right. Did Salvy tell you I want this thing to run another two weeks at least? So I can make it look tough to my associates and get some decent assessments from them?”

He rubbed his hands, a smile of satisfaction on his face. “This time it's going to be a big bundle. There'll be enough for all of us. Even that young boy. Hey, good-looking,” he called to him. “How would you like about four—five thousand for yourself?”

“Drop dead, you bastard,” Jim said.

“How do you like that for an answer? Oh well, that's what I like in my boys: spirit. But not too much of it. Yes, don't show too much of it, or I'll have Salvy throw you out of the organization.”

“Salvy ain't throwin' anybody.”

Jim looked at me.

I nodded and smiled, “Go ahead, Jim,” I said. “You tell him.”

“Salvy has been thrown out himself,” Jim said with malice.

“Who threw who out without my permission?” The big guy glared around the table.

The Ape guffawed and gestured with his thumb at us. “These guys.”

“These gentlemanly boys?” the big guy said, looking at us.

“Gentlemen, my ass,” Max said.

Salvy came out of the toilet. I didn't like his new look. I signaled Max. Max watched as he came closer.

The big guy saw Salvy.

He said, “Hello, Salvy, what's this I hear? You let these guys push you out?” He baited. “How come?” He chuckled, “Of course, it makes no difference who I pay off.”

“I'm still in. You pay me off,” Salvy snarled. “I got men out on the street, workin this strike. I got to pay them. Nobody ever pushed Salvy out of anything.”

He stood there, wild. Suddenly an ice pick appeared in his hand.

Max had his gun out. He pointed it at Salvy. “Drop that ice pick, you stupid bastard,” he growled.

I could tell Salvy had given himself a needle by the wild look on his face. He had the temporary crazy courage of a junky. His beady eyes narrowed into knifelike slits.

I stood up and smiled at him.

“Salvy, take it easy. Put that thing away,” I said.

I walked up to him, my thumb on the button of my knife. His eyes were heavy with hate.

He hissed at me, “You friggin bastard, keep away,” like a snake.

He spit at me. It caught me full in the face. I slashed out at his hand. My knife was longer and quicker than his ice pick. My blade slashed in between his fingers. The point went into the palm and right through to the back of his hand. His pick dropped to the floor. He stood there for a split second amazed and shocked. I jerked my knife out and wiped the blade on his yellow suit. His hand was dripping. He looked at it and began shrieking again, “Bastard! Bastard!”