After five tries I reached Art through his office and told him what had happened. Tension was evident in his voice when he asked me what I wanted.
I said, “Get me what you can on a character named Lard-bucket Pearson. He’ll probably have Jersey connections.”
“Sure. What about the stiffs in your apartment? You can’t let ’em lie there and it’s damn sure nobody’s going to just stumble over them.”
“Why don’t you do it, Art?”
“Do what?”
“Make a call at my place and find them. Any one of the sheets would buy a news beat with photos for the bit.”
“You crazy? Listen...”
“You listen. Do it. Otherwise I’ll call a guy with the wire services. Give me twenty-four hours to think, then do it.”
He breathed hard into the receiver before he answered me. “Okay, friend, but it’s blood money. You’ll have the cops screaming for your hair.”
“That’ll make it unanimous.”
“Where can I get in touch with you?”
“Use the Naples Cafe on Second Street. They’ll take any messages.”
I hung up, reached for the phone book and flipped through it until I found the only Carmen Smith and dialed the number. I let it ring a good while before I hung up feeling a little sour.
The other number was Jake McGaffney. He wasn’t doing anything and said to come on up. It took me 20 minutes and my feet got soaking wet.
He looked at my face and said, “Wha’ hoppen, boy?”
I told him. He made himself a drink and opened me a beer.
“This hitting my business, Ryan?”
“I don’t think so. If that tap on Gonzales didn’t do it, then you’re clear enough.”
“You’re trying to make a point someplace.”
“Where was Gonzales collecting for you?”
“Oh, light spots, mostly. He had a string of bars... let’s say about twenty, and a few other places in his own neighborhood.”
“Did he work around the docks?”
“Gonzales? Hell, no. I’m not doing any field work in that area. That’s uptown stuff.”
“That’s what I thought. How much did he usually have on hand?”
Jake shrugged and made a face. “He’d pay off two-three hundred every day, bring back five. Small time, but with plenty small guys working, we stay in business, y’know?”
“Was he square?”
“A dream to have working. Never clipped a dime, and that I know.” He sipped at his drink. “What’s all this traffic with Gonzales, Ryan?”
“He had a dream too... of him and his broad taking a trip around the world, really living it up.”
“Him? On what? He never had anything.”
“He had ten grand.”
“Hell, you can’t even do Miami right on ten...” He stopped, put his drink down and stared at me. “Where’d he get ten grand?”
“I think from a guy named Billings.”
“I don’t get it.”
“Don’t worry about it. Neither do I. One other thing. Does the name Lodo mean anything to you?”
Jake’s memory for names was too good for him to think long. He shook his head and there was nothing more to say.
The cabs were slower now. I saw one stopped for the light, ran across the street and climbed in. The address I gave was Lucinda Gonzales’ and when I got out the street was quiet, like a sick dog.
There was a light on under Lucinda’s door and when I knocked a chair scraped back.
She smiled vacantly and I could smell the whiskey on her. I pushed the door shut behind me and said, “Lucinda? You still have your money?”
She sat down heavily and brushed her hair back. “Si... but it is no good now without Juan.”
“Lucinda... who has been here to see you?”
“To see me? Oh... the neighbors. They come. From uptown my cousin, he comes.”
“Any of Juan’s friends?”
“They are peegs, señor.”
“Do you know who they are?”
“Sure.” She swayed and tried to get up. “They are off the boat.” She leaned hard against the table, balancing herself. “One is ’Fredo. Other is Spanish Tom. They are peegs, señor. They theenk I am listening to them and they hit me. Juan, he does not even care.”
I circled the table and held on to her. “What boat, Lucinda?”
She shrugged and reached for the bottle. Her unsteady hand knocked it over and she started to cry. I eased her back into the chair and let her pass out with her head pressed into her forearms.
When I reached Times Square, I stopped, deciding which hotel to use. I settled on the Chessy on 49th and took off that way. Before I reached the end of the first block, I knew I had somebody behind me.
He came up fast, passed me and said, “Ryan,” without turning his head. He crossed against the lights, hesitated, then jaywalked all the way to the east side of the street.
When nobody could have made any connection I crossed over myself, went down to 47th and turned the corner leisurely. Then I stopped and flattened against the wall.
Nothing. I gave it another two minutes before I went to where Diego Flores was waiting for me in the shadows.
He was more scared than nervous and his beady little eyes kept poking into the night on either side of him. Diego ran numbers for Sid Solomon on the Madison Avenue run and usually he was a pretty calm guy.
I said, “Hi, Dago. What’s the fuss?”
He tapped my chest with a forefinger. “Baby... you got rocks in your head. Big fat rocks. What you doin’ in town?”
“Why leave, kid?”
“Ain’t you heard it yet? Ryan baby, what happened to all those big ears you had?”
“I’m listening now.”
“Baby... whoever throws you down makes five grand. The world’s out on you.”
“Who says, Dago?”
“None of our bunch, Baby. This one’s comin’ in the hard way. It’s all over town. First thing, the nose candy kids’ll be tryin’ for the tap. You got marked poison somehow and unless you blow out you’re dead.”
“Where’s it come from?”
“Picked it up at Bimmy’s. You know Stan Etching?” I nodded and he went on. “Him and that nutty brother of his was talkin’ about it. Since they knocked off Fletcher over in Canarsie they’re big stuff. Anyway, they’re working now and you’re their job. Everybody’s gonna be trying for you, baby.”
“Why not you, Dago?”
“Ah, baby, come off it. You favored me up plenty times when I had troubles.”
“How hot is it?”
“You better not go anyplace you’re known. They even got the hotels spotted. You’re a big one.”
“Okay, kid, thanks. Shove off before you get tied in to me.”
He glanced around again and licked his lips. “Baby... be careful, will ya? I can smell this stink. It’s from way up, ya know? Ya can tell, somethin’s burning in this town.”
“Yeah.”
When he walked off, I gave him five minutes and cruised past the Chessy. I spotted Manny Golden in the foyer and his partner Willis Holmes across the street talking to a cab driver outside the Ployden House. Both were ex-cops busted out in the graft scandal in ’49. Now they were hoods. Not cheap ones, either. They still held a few things over important precinct heads and could move around pretty good when they wanted to.
Just to be sure I made a few of the other pads off Broadway and when I saw Mario Sen, I knew just how hot I was. Mario’s specialty was big kills and he didn’t operate for under 10 grand per. That is, outside his regular job.
Mario was a tap man for the Mafia.
Mario didn’t seem to have any place to go specially so I helped him out. I stuck my gun in his back and steered him to the men’s room in the back of the lobby.