The Last Collection (19 page)

“Well, yes. Of course. That I take for granted, but I'd like to have an idea of when. I mean, what exactly did you say to him?”

“Tings,” the Hawk replied.

“Things?”

“Yeah, tings.”

“I mean, could you be a bit more specific?”

“Jus tings. I have certain tings dat I say. Each case is different. Deres tings what I say to one person which I don say to anudder,” the Hawk said patiently.

“I'm sort of curious . . . I mean. . . . Did you suggest how things might turn out if he didn't pay up quick?”

“I told em whad had to be told to him, Mr. Hankleman. He got de message.”

“I see,” Hankleman replied with a heavy note of dissatisfaction in his voice.

“Mr. Hankleman,” the Hawk said quietly. “Don worry. You'll get your money. I always deliver.”

“Fine. Yes. I know. I know that, but I thought that if maybe you . . . like . . . you know, put some pressure on him, he'd come through faster, if you know what I mean.”

“Sure, sure. I know what you mean. Don worry. I put on plenny pressure.”

“Well . . . it depends what you mean by pressure,” Hankleman said.

“I had a very good liddle talk wid de man.”

“Well, I didn't mean that kind of pressure. I meant . . . something a little bit different.”

“Like what?” the Hawk asked innocently.

“Like if you broke his fucking arm or something!” Hankleman suddenly half-shouted.

Big Moishie remained silent, puffing calmly on his cigar.

“Dats not really necessary, Mr. Hankleman,” Solly replied. “Besides, dats illegal, you know. Especially now wid de crime commission investigating shylocking, you have to be careful dese days.”

“Well, the way I feel about it, something drastic has to be done with this guy. He's trying to stiff me. For all I know, he's planning to blow town. He's a con man. I've been around long enough to know that. If he can get away without paying up, he'll do it, so . . . as far as I'm concerned, if he doesn't pay up very soon, I'll look for some other way to get my money.”

“Whadda you mean, Mr. Hankleman?” the Hawk asked.

“I mean, I'll have to do it my own way.”

“But you already hired us.”

“I know that but I haven't had any results yet.”

“You'll have results.”

“Well . . . fine . . . but I'm worried.”

“We have a gentlemen's agreement, Mr. Hankleman,” Big Moishie said suddenly.

Hankleman turned to face him.

“We have a reputation here, you know.”

Hankleman was about to reply but he held himself in check in spite of his desire to press the point further. He nodded several times. “Yes. Okay. That's true. We do have an agreement. I just would like to have some idea of when you think you'll collect.”

“Soon, Mr. Hankleman,” the Hawk said.

“What do you think? A week? Two weeks?”

“It's hard to say exactly but it will be before de turdy days are up. Dats fer sure.”

Hankleman forced a resigned nod. “All right. I'll wait to hear from you then,” he said, rising.

“As soon as I have something definite, I'll give you a call,” the Hawk said, smiling.

“Good,” Hankleman said.

“We'll be speaking wid you,” Solly said as Hankleman turned and headed for the door.

“Goodbye,” Hankleman said.

Big Moishie nodded. Hankleman opened the door and went into the outer office.

“Have a nice day, sir,” the secretary said as he passed by her desk. Hankleman ignored her and went out into the corridor, slamming the door behind him. He spat against the corridor wall and headed towards the bathroom at the end of the hall, trying to recapitulate the brief meeting.

He had played his cards well in spite of his anger and frustration. He had accomplished what he had gone there for. He knew now, beyond any doubt, that they were playing some game where they would try to make him the loser. They were cute, real cute, he thought; but he was cuter. It was frustrating to have an edge on someone as he did and not be able to use it to any advantage. In terms of the frustration it had caused him, it would almost have been better not to have known about Weisskopf's strange meeting with Kerner. The only way he could have used his information about that meeting would have been to confront them directly with it. But that would have been foolish and would have accomplished nothing. It would have given him some momentary satisfaction to see their surprise; but what was that worth? Then they would realize that he hadn't trusted them from the start and they would feel justified in going all out to shaft him. It was better that he had controlled his frustration and said nothing. Let them think he was stupid. In the long run he would get them, and his satisfaction would be far greater when they realized he had been on to them from the very beginning.

Hankleman reached the men's room and went in. He went up to the urinal and unzipped his fly. He glanced about the small room and saw that he was alone. Chuckling to himself, he began to urinate on the floor.

Yes, he thought, Weisskopf and Mandelberg were real cute, but he was cuter. He had shown them that he wasn't a pushover, that he wasn't afraid to stand up to them. He had put some pressure on them and let them know who they were dealing with. He had threatened to dispense with their services just to the right degree. Just enough to get them a little nervous and maybe give them some second thoughts about any games they were planning to play, and not too much to force the issue to the point where face saving was necessary, or to the point where they might suspect he was on to them. Yes, he had played his cards perfectly. He was glad he had controlled himself.

Hankleman zipped up his fly and stepped around the puddle he had made on the floor. He went over to the sink. Now Weisskopf and Mandelberg would have to move fast. Whatever it was that they were planning would have to be done within the next few days and he would be ready for them. He would know what they were up to almost as soon as they knew themselves.

Hankleman washed his hands then yanked several paper towels out of the dispenser above the sink. He wiped his hands and threw the towels into the sink, leaving the cold-water tap on. He walked to the door, opened it and started to go out. Suddenly he froze. He was certain Artie Kerner had just passed by. Hankleman peeked his head around the corner of the doorjamb. It was Kerner, and he was obviously headed for the office of Weisskopf and Mandelberg. Hankleman watched as Kerner stopped outside their door, buttoned his jacket and went in.

Hankleman could feel his chest tighten. He began to laugh to himself. He went out into the corridor and headed towards the elevator. Another bit of information to confirm what he was already convinced of.

It made him feel good to see Kerner go into that office. He was glad Kerner had gone into that office! Hankleman stopped in front of the elevator and pressed the button.

A few minutes before, he might have had misgivings or doubts concerning his next move but not anymore.

Chapter Twenty-Three

A
ter Solly Weisskopf had introduced Artie Kerner to his partner, he motioned for Kerner to take a seat on the large leather sofa between the two desks. Kerner sat down and the Hawk joined him. Big Moishie remained at his own desk.

“Would ya like a coffee, Arter?” the Hawk asked.

“No, thank you,” Kerner replied.

“Maybe a tea?”

“No. Nothing, thanks.”

The Hawk gave a little nod. “Anyway, I'm glad you came down here, Arter. I tried ta reach you yesterday but I couldn't. I wanted ta talk wid you some more about your problem wid Hankleman.”

“Well, that's why I came down here.”

The Hawk lifted his eyebrows slightly.

“I've done a lot of thinking since yesterday morning when . . . we met. As a matter of fact, yesterday morning seems like weeks ago. Well, anyway, I'm going to have Mr. Hankleman's money in about a week.”

The Hawk turned slowly and deliberately to face his partner. He pointed a finger at him. “Ahh?” he said to Big Moishie.

Big Moishie nodded slowly.

The Hawk chuckled gleefully, still pointing at his partner. “I told you de kid had class, eh?”

Moishie Mandelberg nodded again.

Kerner's eyes darted back and forth between the two men as he tried to make some sense out of what was going on.

The Hawk turned back to Kerner. “I'm really glad t'hear what ya jus told me, Arter; but wid reference to what we discussed yesterday, can I ask like how yer gonna manage it?”

“Well, I decided to make a big change in my life.”

“A big change?”

“Yes, I've decided to sell everything.”

“Everything?” the Hawk said, dumbfounded.

“Yes, everything.”

“But it's gonna make you feel very sick, no?”

“Yes, I guess so, but I decided to go all the way. I can't go on like I've been doing. It's really crazy.”

“Lissen, Arter, it's not really necessary ta do dat. It might be better ta do it like slower. In fact, dats what I wanted ta talk wid you about. We decided ta do someting here which might make it easier fer you. . . . Ya see, like when we took over dis collection, our end was gonna be turdy-five percent of what we got from you. You unnerstan?”

“Yes.”

“Dat means our end is like aroun five gees. Right?”

“Yes,” Kerner said, nodding.

“But now we decided, me an my partner, for our own personal reasons, which you shouldn bodder yerself wid, dat we're not interested in our end. You unnerstan?”

“I'm not exactly sure,” Kerner replied.

“It means dat you only gotta come up wid about eight gees. De rest you can forget.”

“Jesus! That's very nice of you,” Kerner exclaimed.

“It's no big deal,” the Hawk replied, shrugging.

“It is,” Kerner replied.

The Hawk shook his head. “Naw.”

“Well, I appreciate it. It's hard to believe. It's . . .”

“It's no big deal,” the Hawk repeated. “But now maybe you should tink about only selling enough ta make de eight gees.”

“I don't think it'll make any difference if I sell eight-thousand-dollars' worth of my stuff or all of it. Either way it's going to be hard, but I have a feeling it may be better to go for broke. In any case, what I'm really trying to do is change my whole way of life. I'm selling my business too, for what little it's worth right now.”

“Whadda ya gonna do?” the Hawk asked with amazement.

“I'm going to pack it all in here and move to Israel. I'm going to change my whole life. I'm going to work on a kibbutz and see what it's like.”

The Hawk shook his head. “That's a very big step, a very big step.”

“Yes, I know. But I'm going to do it. That's why I have to settle all my accounts here. In fact, that's why, even though I really appreciate your offer to let me off for the five thousand dollars, I'm going to pay it all back. I owe Mr. Hankleman thirteen thousand and I feel I have to pay it all up. I'm just sorry I caused this whole bloody problem for everyone.”

“Look, dats life, Arter. Dese tings happen. You know?”

“Yes, that's true. I just hope you're not offended by my wanting to pay it all back.”

“We're never offended when someone offers to give us money,” Big Moishie said.

Kerner turned towards the big man. “I just don't want to owe anyone,” he said.

“We unnerstan, Arter.”

“But I really appreciate your offer. It's the most generous thing I've ever heard of.”

“Forget it. We had our reasons for it,” the Hawk said.

“What about your business?” Big Moishie asked.

“I'm going to sell that as well. Mind you, it's not worth very much right now. I've got a few debts which I'll pay off and then I'll try to sell it.”

“How much do you owe?”

Kerner shrugged. “About twenty thousand. I had hoped to make a couple of big sales in the last few weeks but it doesn't seem very likely right now. Anyways, in view of my new plans, it doesn't really matter.”

“Maybe you should bail out,” the Hawk said.

“Declare bankruptcy?” Kerner shook his head. “No, I couldn't do it. I thought about it but now there's no point. When I sell my stuff I'll have the money to pay back what I owe.”

“By the time you're finished wid your business and wid Hankleman, you'll be left widout a jit,” the Hawk said.

“Well, I won't need it on the kibbutz,” Kerner replied with a shrug.

“Look, bankruptcy is nothing to feel guilty about. The act was written expressly to help people when they get into a jackpot,” Big Moishie said.

“I realize that; but I got into this jackpot myself and I don't feel right about not paying what I owe, especially if I'm going to have the money.”

The Hawk nodded slowly. “Well, you know what ya gotta do. But if you change your mind, it's okay wid us.”

“Thank you. It's really very generous of you,” Kerner said, rising.

He shook hands with the Hawk and then with Moishie Mandelberg.

“Thank you again,” Kerner said. “Thank you very much.”

“No problem. We'll see ya around eh?” the Hawk said as Kerner opened the door.

“I'll see you. Thanks. Thanks a lot.” He went out, closing the door behind him.

As he passed the secretary, Kerner glanced down at her, staring directly and unabashedly at her breasts. She looked up, caught his eye and smiled slyly at him. Kerner smiled back.

“Goodbye, Mr. Kerner,” the secretary said, purposefully moving her tongue slowly along the length of her lips.

“Bye,” Kerner replied and went out into the hall. As he headed for the elevator, he was suddenly surprised and elated as he realized he had an erection.