hadn’t lasted and I didn’t expect Dante to last either.
“What about the guns?” I asked. “Did you touch base there too?”
“Nah, it was just kind of a hustle for a while. I didn’t think the guy could deliver, so I was going to play it out and see. I had a buyer, but I wasn’t sure of the seller.”
“Who was the buyer?”
“This group of wackos up in Allentown. Aryan bullshit, shaved heads and ratty trailers and target practice getting ready for the holy race war.”
“Who set it up?”
“I did.”
“Who else?”
“It was my gig, like, completely. Met this broad who took me to one of the meetings. Tits like cantaloupes, you know ripe ones like you get on Ninth Street. She talked about a retreat and I thought it was going to be hot. I thought an orgy or something. Turned out to be this militia-Nazi-bullshit-crap. I drilled her anyway. Then this tall, weird-looking geek started talking about guns and we set it up.”
“Just you? You were solo on this?”
“That’s what I said.”
He looked away and bobbed and his Adam’s apple bobbed too.
“All right,” I said. “That’s all for now. We have your preliminary hearing next week. We’re scheduled for ten, you get here nine-thirty and we’ll walk over together.”
“You don’t want to prepare me or nothing?”
“You’re going to sit next to me and not say a word and when I am done you’re going to leave with me. You think we need more preparation?”
“I think I can handle that.”
“I think maybe you can too. Tell me one thing more, Pete. You know Jimmy Vigs Dubinsky?”
“The bookie, sure. I done some favors for him.”
“You ever known him to whack someone who stiffs him?”
“Who, Jimmy? Nah, he’s a sweetheart. He cuts them off is all. Besides, you know, you can’t clip nobody without the boss’s approval. That’s like bottom line.”
“And he doesn’t approve much.”
“Are you kidding, you got to go to New York nowadays to get any kind of good experience. Up there it still rocks.”
“Thanks, that’s what I figured,” I said as I walked him out of my office into the hallway. Beth just happened to be at Ellie’s desk, talking about something oh-so-important as Peter walked by. They were both polite enough to hold their giggles until he was out of earshot.
“You too, huh, Beth?” I said, looking through a stack of mail on Ellie’s desk. “Well forget it, ladies. He likes women with cantaloupe breasts and empty minds.”
“Don’t you all?” said Beth.
“Come to think of it,” I said. “I’m going to step out for a cup of coffee. I’ll be right back. Anyone want anything?”
“Diet Coke,” said Beth. I nodded.
Down the hallway, past the accountant’s office and the architect’s office and the design firm that shared our office space, out the door, down the stairs, out to Twenty-first Street. I walked a few blocks to the Wawa convenience store and bought a cup of coffee in blue cardboard and a Diet Coke, which I stuck in my pocket. Out on the street, with my coffee in my hand, I looked both ways. Nothing. I walked a few more blocks and turned around. Nothing. Then I found a phone booth and put the coffee on the aluminum shelf. I dropped in a quarter and dialed and waited for the ringing to end.
“Tosca’s,” said a voice.
“Let me talk to table nine,” I said.
“One’a moment. I see if it available.”
About a minute later I heard a familiar voice, older and softer, peppered with an Old World accent. “Table nine,” it said.
“He says he got the money by stealing six cars off a Mercedes-Benz lot. He said he got you your share through Dante.”
“Go on.”
“He says he was going to resell the guns to some white supremacist group out in Allentown for a big profit.”
“You believe him?”
“He says he was on his own. I don’t think he whacks off on his own.”
“I don’t think so neither. He ever had a bright idea it’d be beginner’s luck. You find out who he
“What about the guns?” I asked. “Did you touch base there too?”
“Nah, it was just kind of a hustle for a while. I didn’t think the guy could deliver, so I was going to play it out and see. I had a buyer, but I wasn’t sure of the seller.”
“Who was the buyer?”
“This group of wackos up in Allentown. Aryan bullshit, shaved heads and ratty trailers and target practice getting ready for the holy race war.”
“Who set it up?”
“I did.”
“Who else?”
“It was my gig, like, completely. Met this broad who took me to one of the meetings. Tits like cantaloupes, you know ripe ones like you get on Ninth Street. She talked about a retreat and I thought it was going to be hot. I thought an orgy or something. Turned out to be this militia-Nazi-bullshit-crap. I drilled her anyway. Then this tall, weird-looking geek started talking about guns and we set it up.”
“Just you? You were solo on this?”
“That’s what I said.”
He looked away and bobbed and his Adam’s apple bobbed too.
“All right,” I said. “That’s all for now. We have your preliminary hearing next week. We’re scheduled for ten, you get here nine-thirty and we’ll walk over together.”
“You don’t want to prepare me or nothing?”
“You’re going to sit next to me and not say a word and when I am done you’re going to leave with me. You think we need more preparation?”
“I think I can handle that.”
“I think maybe you can too. Tell me one thing more, Pete. You know Jimmy Vigs Dubinsky?”
“The bookie, sure. I done some favors for him.”
“You ever known him to whack someone who stiffs him?”
“Who, Jimmy? Nah, he’s a sweetheart. He cuts them off is all. Besides, you know, you can’t clip nobody without the boss’s approval. That’s like bottom line.”
“And he doesn’t approve much.”
“Are you kidding, you got to go to New York nowadays to get any kind of good experience. Up there it still rocks.”
“Thanks, that’s what I figured,” I said as I walked him out of my office into the hallway. Beth just happened to be at Ellie’s desk, talking about something oh-so-important as Peter walked by. They were both polite enough to hold their giggles until he was out of earshot.
“You too, huh, Beth?” I said, looking through a stack of mail on Ellie’s desk. “Well forget it, ladies. He likes women with cantaloupe breasts and empty minds.”
“Don’t you all?” said Beth.
“Come to think of it,” I said. “I’m going to step out for a cup of coffee. I’ll be right back. Anyone want anything?”
“Diet Coke,” said Beth. I nodded.
Down the hallway, past the accountant’s office and the architect’s office and the design firm that shared our office space, out the door, down the stairs, out to Twenty-first Street. I walked a few blocks to the Wawa convenience store and bought a cup of coffee in blue cardboard and a Diet Coke, which I stuck in my pocket. Out on the street, with my coffee in my hand, I looked both ways. Nothing. I walked a few more blocks and turned around. Nothing. Then I found a phone booth and put the coffee on the aluminum shelf. I dropped in a quarter and dialed and waited for the ringing to end.
“Tosca’s,” said a voice.
“Let me talk to table nine,” I said.
“One’a moment. I see if it available.”
About a minute later I heard a familiar voice, older and softer, peppered with an Old World accent. “Table nine,” it said.
“He says he got the money by stealing six cars off a Mercedes-Benz lot. He said he got you your share through Dante.”
“Go on.”
“He says he was going to resell the guns to some white supremacist group out in Allentown for a big profit.”
“You believe him?”
“He says he was on his own. I don’t think he whacks off on his own.”
“I don’t think so neither. He ever had a bright idea it’d be beginner’s luck. You find out who he
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