“Yo, Shea, wait up... buddy.”
If the kid was pleased to see him, he was hiding it well, just nodded, noncommittal.
They entered the bar without another word.
The place had a pool table, a long wooden bar, and lots of tables at the back. They moved up to the counter.
A tall girl, dark hair, eyes, an almost pretty face, spoiled by a too large nose with a good body, and a name tag... Nora.
Shea thought,
“Jaysus, not a bloody Mick, please?”
And tried not to stare at her neck, that white white flesh, and soft... Jesus.
The last shite he wanted to hear was reminiscences about the old country, the usual blarneyed lies.
She smiled, a good one. Asked,
“Get you gentlemen?”
Kebar said,
“Maker’s Mark, Bud back.”
And she looked to Shea.
He was so relieved to hear her New York accent, he went,
“Got any Jameson?”
She smiled, like... gee, what a surprise, said,
“Sure.”
“Okay, with a Coors.”
She gave him an odd look and he thought,
“What?... Like I’d frigging drink Guinness outside Ireland, yeah, dream on, babe.”
She asked,
“You running a tab?’
Kebar nodded. They took their drinks to a rear table, Kebar raised his shot glass, said,
“Here’s to partners.”
Shea clinked the Jay against it, said,
“Why not.”
They took a swish of their beers, then sat back.
Neither one had a damn word to say.
Shea tried not to think about her neck.
Kebar headed to the bar to get refills and thus missed Morronni walking in.
Morronni, delighted with his timing, went straight up to Shea, sat down, put out his hand, sliding an envelope on the table, bills protruding, said,
“Carmelo Morronni.”
Shea, taken aback, took his hand, and Morronni said,
“Smile, you’re on Candid Camera.”
A flash went off, Morronni’s man smiled, put the camera away, and Morronni put the envelope in his pocket.
Shea growled,
“The fuck is that about?”
Morronni said,
“Call it insurance.”
Kebar came back, his face a mask of fury at seeing Morronni sitting there. Shea said,
“This guy took me photo, with a wad of money on the table and me shaking hands with him.”
Kebar put the drinks down, carefully, looked to Morronni’s man, said,
“Give me the camera.”
The guy smiled, pulled his jacket back to show the Magnum in his belt, said,
“Come and take it, asswipe.”
Morronni cut in, said,
“Whoa, compadres, chill out, Gino, go get us some drinks, bourbon rocks, how about you guys, you good?”
Kebar was still standing, considering taking the camera. Morronni said,
“Come on, K, have a seat and let’s fill your young buddy in on the current state of play.”
Kebar sat and Shea asked,
“What the fuck is going on, who are these guys?”
Morronni smiled, said,
“We’re your business associates, but K can explain better, right, bro? Tell him how you work for us and as Jackie Gleason used to say... how sweet it is.”
Kebar was lost, couldn’t look at the kid, he gulped the bourbon in one swallow. Shea looked from one man to the other, realization dawning, said,
“You’re on the take... you... Jesus Christ, and you brought me here, to what... suck me in...”
His rage was blinding him, as he saw the net they’d thrown, he looked at Kebar, said,
“Fuck you.”
And stood up. Morronni said,
“Whoa, kid, calm down, no need to get riled up, and we do have your picture, you don’t want that on your boss’s desk tomorrow, do you?”
Shea leaned over, right in Morronni’s face, said,
“Screw you, bollix.”
Then to Kebar,
“Get that fucking picture back.”
And walked out.
Kebar wanted to go after him and say what?
He stared at Morronni, asked,
“Why’d you have to involve the kid?”
Morronni took a delicate sip of his drink and then, using a dazzling white handkerchief, dabbed at his mouth, said,
“Keep you focused.”
Kebar was trying to get his mind in gear, said,
“You have me, I’m doing all you ask, give me the photo and we can forget this ever happened.”
Morronni stood up, threw a hundred on the table, said,
“Drinks on me, and Gino, he doesn’t like you, K, I’d advise against trying to force him to do anything he’s not kosher with, that Magnum of his? I’d say it balances out the bar you carry. We’ll be in touch.”
And they were gone.
Kebar sat, the mess of glasses on the table reflecting the total chaos of his mind.
Nora came over, asked,
“They upped and left you?”
He nodded and she pushed,
“The young guy, he married?”
Kebar looked at her, said,
“The fuck would I know.”
She picked up the hundred, said,
“I’ll get your change.”
Kebar was up, said,
“Keep it.”
She watched him slump out, the weight of the world on his shoulders. The young guy, though, he was kinda cute, first thing after her shift was done, she’d ring Joe, her brother, tell him that just maybe... there might be a guy on the horizon.
Kebar was waiting at the car for the kid, the next morning, he didn’t know if the kid would even show.
He did.
Looking like ferocity.
Kebar tried,
“We need to talk about that whole fiasco last night.”
Shea stared at him contempt written on his face, said,
“I’ve asked for a meeting with O’Brien, I’m going to ask for reassignment.”
Kebar was afraid of this, said,
“C’mon, don’t do that, let me at least explain.”
Shea let that hover for a moment then said,
“You’re a bagman, isn’t that the term, you sell cops for money, what’s to explain.”
Kebar said,
“Get in the car, I want to show you something.”
For a moment, it seemed like the kid wouldn’t but Kebar went,
“Please.”
He did.
Drove out to Long Island, no talk the whole trip, each man buried in his own shell. They got to the nursing home and Shea asked,
“What the fuck is this?”
Kebar got out, said,
“Come on.”
Led him to Lucia’s room, she was watching the Teletubbies. Kebar said,
“Hon, this is my partner, his name is Shea, will you mind him for a moment?”
Before Shea could object, Kebar was gone and he was left alone with this lovely-looking woman who had the eyes of a child.
She gave him a radiant smile, asked,
“Would you like a kiss?”
Then laughed, said,
“A chocolate one.”
Shea didn’t know what to do so he took the Hershey’s Kiss and she watched him, said,
“Aren’t they dreamy?”
He nodded, all his speech seemed to have dried up.
He was fixated on her neck, the whitest, most beautiful he’d ever seen.
Then he managed,
“What’s your name?”
She gave him that child’s look of disbelief, like, was he so dense?
Said,
“I’m Lucia, Konny’s sister.”
Konny?
She took out a notebook, asked,
“Want to play tic-tac-toe?”
He didn’t.
But did.
Trying to get a handle on what the deal was.
Kebar was looking for a coffee machine, and Kemmel, the proprietor of the home, came along the corridor, wearing a very expensive suit. Kebar knew expensive gear, as he could never afford it. This was one of those suits, you could sleep in it and it would still be up before you, looking wonderful. He had a bright red tie with some goddamned crest on it. He asked,