"Honey, would you get Mr. Chason a cup of coffee and a Danish, please?"
"Be happy to. If there's any Danish left."
"If there's no Danish left, honey, send one of my so-called salesmen after some."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Fiorello," Helene said.
Joey reached into his pocket and peeled five fifty-dollar bills off a wad held together with a gold paper clip and handed them to Phil.
"If I can't get you a Danish, the least I can do is pay what I owe you," he said with a smile.
"Thank you," Phil said. "Like the man said, money may not be everything, but it's way ahead of whatever's in second place."
"Absolutely," Joey said.
"So, what's on your mind, Joey?"
"I'm sure I can trust you to keep what I'm about to tell you to yourself."
"That would depend on what you want to tell me," Phil said. "Let me put that another way. As long as it's legal, you can trust me."
"Absolutely goddamned legal," Joey said. "Jesus Christ, Phil, what do you think? I'm a businessman."
What I think is that you're in bed with the mob, is what I think.
"No offense, Joey. But we should understand each other."
"I agree one hundred percent," Joey said. "And you have my word I would never ask you to do anything that would in any way be illegal."
"Okay. Fine."
"The thing is, Phil, I'm a silent partner in the Howard Johnson motel on Roosevelt Boulevard. You know where I mean?"
Phil nodded.
Why don't I believe that?
"Nice, solid investment. You know, people trust a place with Howard Johnson's name on it."
"Yeah, I guess they do."
"You know how that works, Phil? I mean, it's a franchise. We pay them a percentage of the gross. We get to use the name, and they set the standards. They got inspectors-you never know who they are-who come and stay in the place, and eat in the coffee shop, and check things… see if the bathrooms are clean, that sort of thing. You understand?"
Phil nodded.
"They insist that we run a high-class operation," Joey said. "A nice, clean, respectable place, a family place, by which I mean that a Howard Johnson is not a no-tell motel, you know what I mean?"
"I understand," Phil said.
"The way the contract is drawn, we don't keep the place up to standard, they have the right to do one of two things: either make us sell the place, or take down the sign."
"Is that so?"
"Which would cost us a bundle. Which would cost me, since I have a large piece of that action, a large bundle, if Howard Johnson should decide to pull our franchise."
"And you're worried about that happening, is that what you're driving at?"
"I am worried shitless," Joey said.
"Why?"
"Can you believe there was a drug bust at the Howard Johnson last Thursday night? Can you believe that?"
"Drugs are all over, Joey, you know that."
"Not in my fucking Howard Johnson motel, they're not supposed to be."
"Those things happen, Joey."
"Like I said I'm a silent partner. I put up the money, and the other partners run the place. Which means they hire the manager."
"Okay."
"He's a brother-in-law of one of the partners. His name is Leonard Hansen."
"And?"
"So far as I know, he's as honest as the day is long."
"Okay."
"So far as I know, is what I said."
Helene came into the office with two mugs of coffee and a half-dozen Danish.
She gave Phil-maybe innocently, maybe not-a good look down her dress as she put his mug and the Danish on the coffee table in front of him.
"No calls, and make sure nobody walks in here on Mr. Chason and me, Helene," Joey said.
"Yes, sir, Mr. Fiorello."
Joey waited until she had left the office and closed the door.
"Where was I, Phil?"
"You were saying that so far as you know, the manager of the Howard Johnson is honest."
"Right. And, so far as I know, he knows how to run a motel. We take a nice little profit out of that place."
"Okay."
"Okay. Now, maybe I'm wrong, and I hope to Christ I am, but two things worry me."
"Such as?"
"The drug bust, of course. And then me not hearing about it for three days. Not until last night, and it happened on Thursday."
"Why does that worry you?"
"Like I said, I really hope I'm wrong, but with the amount of money we're talking about, hope don't count."
"I'm not sure where you're going, Joey. You think the manager has something to do with the drugs?"
"What I'm saying, Phil, is that we don't pay him a whole hell of a lot of money. I don't really know what I'm talking about here. But drugs in a Howard Johnson motel?"
"What are you thinking?"
"I don't have any idea how it could have gotten started, but hear me out. You got a guy making peanuts, like Leonard Hansen. He finds out that he can pick up a couple of hundred tax-free by loaning somebody a motel-room key for a couple of hours. You beginning to see where I'm coming from?"
"Yeah."
"And all of a sudden, it comes out-I have the highest respect for the detectives who work Narcotics-that my Howard Johnson motel is a no-tell motel. Not hookers, but much fucking worse-as far as the Howard Johnson people are concerned-drugs. That's all Howard Johnson would have to hear. So long, franchise. They'd pull that franchise so quick…"
"I see your point. So you want me to check this Leonard Hansen out?"
"I really hope you find him as clean as a whistle," Joey said. "But you understand, Phil, why I have to know?"
"I understand your problem, Joey."
"And discreetly, Phil. Like I said, he's a brother-in-law of one of my partners. He would get pissed in a second if he heard I'd asked you to check this guy out."
"I understand."
"I'll give you fifty an hour, plus all your expenses, if you can get on this right away, Phil."
"I told you, Joey, I'm up to my ass-"
"This is important to me, Phil, but I would hate to think you're trying to hold me up. We have a good relationship here…"
"I wasn't talking about money. I was talking about other jobs I have, Joey."
"No offense, Phil."
"No offense taken, Joey. I'll get on it as soon as I can."
"I appreciate that, Phil," Joey said.
He got up behind his desk and put out his hand.
"You get me something on this guy I can take to my partners, something solid, and there'll be a bonus in this for you, Phil."
"If there's something there, I'll find it," Phil said.
"Jesus, I just had a thought," Joey said.
"What?"
"Let me throw this at you. I don't know why I didn't think of it before."
"Think of what before?"
"If anybody knew if my Howard Johnson motel is being used as a fucking drug supermarket, it would be the narcotics cops, right?"
"Maybe."
"Maybe, my ass. They did one drug bust there. They had to have a reason, a suspicion, that something was going on there."
"So what?"
"Could you ask them? You know any of them?"
"No, and no. I don't know any of them, and if I did know one of them, and asked him something like that, he'd tell me to go fuck myself."
"I thought you cops got along pretty well," Joey said visibly disappointed.
"I'm a retired cop, which is the same thing as saying, so far as they're concerned, that I'm a civilian. They don't tell civilians anything. So far as that goes, they don't tell other cops anything."
"If they knew-even suspected; we wouldn't need any proof-about something going on at my motel, that would settle this thing in a hurry. Which is what I'm after, Phil, finding out yes or no in a hurry."
"I told you, Joey, if the Narcotics Unit knew that drug deals were going on every hour on the hour at your motel, they wouldn't tell me."