Kings of Midnight

by Wallace Stroby

  “Maybe,” Benny said.

  “Anyway, they’re all gone now, that crew. Jimmy, Paulie, Tommy. All dead. Couple others went into the program. For all I know, they’re dead, too. If anybody wanted you, Benny, they’d have found you. The world’s not that big.”

  “What about Joey Dio? He’s still around.”

  “Not anymore,” Taliferro said. “That’s what I want to talk to you about. Come on, the kid’s right. It’s freezing out here. Get in.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Of course,” Taliferro said. “You always got a choice.”

  * * *

  Longo drove, Taliferro riding shotgun. Benny sat behind, left arm across the seat back, trying to act casual. He’d refused to get in front.

  “So,” Taliferro said. “Leonard?”

  “It fits. I’m half Jewish, remember? Not that they can tell a Jew from an Italian out here anyway.”

  They were on a long straight road, dark fields on both sides. Benny caught a glimpse of the moon through the clouds.

  “All this open space makes me nervous,” Taliferro said. “How’d you end up out here anyway?”

  “They had me in a bunch of different places. When I signed out of the program, I decided to stay in Indiana. I like it here.”

  “That’s hard to believe.” Taliferro turned toward him. “Things didn’t work out with the wife, eh?”

  “You heard that, too?”

  “Some of it.”

  “She’s gone now.”

  “I know. I was sorry to hear about that. You ever see your kids?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Not for a long time. They’re grown now. In college, I think. Hope.”

  A deer came out of the woods ahead of them, eyes flashing in the headlights. Longo hit the brakes hard, and they were all thrown forward for an instant, then back. The deer bounded across the road, disappeared into the trees on the other side.

  “Son of a bitch,” Longo said. “Sorry about that, skip. I didn’t see it.”

  “We’re fine. Just take it easy.”

  They drove on.

  “Where are we going?” Benny said.

  Taliferro looked back at him. “Your place.”

  Benny stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  “I told you it wasn’t hard to track you down, find where you live. You got a nice thing going there, huh? How old’s that girl? Twenty-five? Good for you.”

  Benny sat forward. “Wait a minute…”

  “Relax,” Taliferro said. “So I know a little bit about you. No big deal. You think I was going to drive all the way out here, not know what I was getting into?”

  “She’s got nothing to do with what happened before.”

  “Did I say she did? But you’re like, what, sixty, sixty-one?”

  “Sixty-two.”

  “And she’s twenty-five? When I heard that, I said ‘God bless America.’”

  “And pass the Viagra,” Longo said.

  “Be nice,” Taliferro said. Then, over the seat to Benny, “This is the turn up here, right?”

  “You been here before?”

  Taliferro didn’t answer. They made a left into the driveway, gravel crunching under the tires.

  All the lights in the house were on. That was wrong. Marta would have turned them off. They barely made their rent each month, and every dollar counted.

  “I thought we were going to talk in the car,” Benny said. “Then you were gonna drive me back.”

  “We’re here now,” Taliferro said. “Might as well be comfortable.”

  They pulled up outside the porch. Only ten o’clock, but the houses on both sides were dark. The only sound was wind in the trees.

  “You own this place?” Taliferro said, but Benny was already out of the car. The front door was unlocked, the living room empty.

  He went into the kitchen, and Marta was sitting there at the table, arms crossed. Relief flooded through him, and then he saw the other man there, leaning against the kitchen counter. He was Longo’s age, but thicker, a weight lifter’s body, spiky moussed hair. He wore a leather coat over an open shirt, a gold cross gleaming in his chest hair.

  “What the fuck?” Benny said.

  “Ease up,” Taliferro said from behind him. “Everything’s okay. We’re just here to talk.”

  “Benny, what is this?” she said. She was scared, but the anger was coming through. She wore a green flannel shirt, white T-shirt beneath. Her straw-colored hair was tied back.

  “Baby, are you all right?” he said.

  She pushed back her chair, started to stand, and the third man put a hand on her shoulder. She pulled away from him. “Benny, who are these people?”

  “Everybody relax,” Taliferro said. To the third man, Taliferro said, “She’s okay, Dominic, right? Nothing happened?”

  “It’s all good,” he said. “But she don’t like me much.”

  Benny turned to Taliferro. “This is out of line.”

  “I had a look around,” Dominic said. He took Benny’s stubby Colt .380 from a coat pocket. “Found this in the nightstand.”

  “Huh,” Taliferro said. “Can’t blame him.” He squeezed Benny’s shoulder. “It’s okay. Trust me.” Then to Dominic, “Why don’t you take the young lady out into the living room, so Benny and I can talk?”

  “This isn’t right,” Benny said.

  “Easier this way,” Taliferro said. “You got some coffee or something you can fix? Maybe a drink, warm us up?”

  Dominic put the Colt back in his pocket, said, “Come on, honey.”

  She looked at Benny.

  “The sooner we talk,” Taliferro said, “the sooner we’re on our way.”

  Benny nodded at her. When Dominic tried to take her elbow, she pulled away. He backed off, raised his hands in mock surrender. She went past them, down the hall and into the living room. Dominic followed.

  “She’ll be all right,” Taliferro said.

  Benny felt Longo come up behind him. He patted the sides of his coat, reached around, felt his waist.

  “This is bullshit, Danny,” Benny said, feeling the first stirrings of panic.

  “Sorry, but we didn’t want you going rabbit on us when we showed up. How much does she know?”

  “About what?”

  “About you.”

  “Does it matter?”

  “She knows your real name at least. None of that ‘Leonard’ bullshit.”

  “I met her out here. She’s got nothing to do with back home.”

  “Of course not. Now let’s all sit down, have a drink.”

  Longo pulled out a chair for Benny. Taliferro took the one across the table. He sat back, and the collar of his sweater slid down an inch. Benny could see the thin, welted scar just above the Adam’s apple, where the piano wire had cut through flesh.

  “I’ve got tea, coffee,” Benny said. “No alcohol.”

  “Why not?”

  “I haven’t had a drink in six years.”

  “No booze, no cigarettes. Congratulations. Living clean.”

  “Trying to.”

  “I admire that. Wish I could.”

  He got the Marlboros out again, lit one with the Zippo. Longo leaned back against the counter, where Dominic had been. The right side of his jacket hung heavy.

  Taliferro blew out smoke, nodded at the hallway. “Sorry about all this. Can’t blame her for being angry, I guess. Us just showing up like that, out of the blue.”

  “What is it you want?”

  He tapped ash on the floor. “I guess you didn’t hear the news?”

  “If it’s about Joey Dio, no. What happened?”

  “He’s gone. They let him out of Springfield about a month ago, sent him home. Brain tumor. Nothing they could do about it. Miracle he lived as long as he did.”

  “I should cry?”

  Taliferro smiled. “Yeah, Joey could be a difficult guy. Never really gave a shit about anyone except himself.
Like they used to say, he always ate alone.”

  Benny said nothing, waited.

  “He went straight into hospice when he got out. Only lasted a couple weeks though. It was in all the papers back home. Surprised you didn’t hear about it out here.”

  “I didn’t. What’s this got to do with me?” Sensing already where it was headed.

  “You and Joey went way back. Everyone knew that, respected it.”

  “He tried to have me killed. He gave the order.”

  “Yeah, he could be that way. I hardly knew the man, but I still had to kick up to him. Every crew in Brooklyn and Queens did. It always burned me.”

  “You and everybody else,” Benny said.

  “You’re right. But the thing with Joey, what no one could ever figure out, was that airport deal.”

  “The what?” Knew for certain now.

  “Lufthansa. Your buddy Jimmy the Gent. You were part of that crew, right? Biggest score of all time back then. That’s wiseguy mythology now. They still talk about it on the street.”

  “That was thirty-five years ago. And I had nothing to do with it anyway. I’m going to make coffee. You want some?”

  “Sure. That sounds good.”

  Benny looked at Longo, who shook his head. Benny got up, went to the sink, filled the coffeemaker with water from the faucet, got it going.

  “Yeah, it was a long time ago,” Taliferro said. “Still, most of that money never turned up. Anyway, why am I telling you this? You know more about it than I ever will.”

  “If that’s what you heard, don’t believe it.” He got mugs down from the cabinet. “Way I heard it, that money got whacked up as soon as it left the airport. All the bosses between here and Florida got a piece. You want milk, sugar?”

  “What I heard, too, and where some of it went,” Taliferro said. “Yeah, sugar, thanks. But word was Joey kept almost half of it for a rainy day. He was so greedy, he wouldn’t let anyone near it. So he sat on it all those years.”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  The coffee began to percolate. Benny got sugar packets from a ceramic jar, tore them open and emptied two into each mug. Longo was leaning against the counter with his arms crossed, watching him.

  “You hear wild figures all the time,” Taliferro said. “About how much they took out of there. Six million, eight million, ten million. Figure gets higher every year. What do you think it was?”

  Benny shrugged, waiting on the coffee. “Maybe less. Maybe five in cash, some more in jewelry. Who knows? Everybody who did is dead.”

  “Not everybody.”

  “Most of them.”

  “You never got a cut?”

  “I was with Jimmy’s crew when it happened, that’s all. Jimmy took his share, doled some of it out, kicked the rest up to Joey. That job made some guys rich, but mostly it made them dead. It almost got me killed, and I never saw a dime of it.”

  “That’s hard to believe.”

  “Believe what you want.”

  Benny leaned back against the counter, wondered if Taliferro had a gun as well.

  “Way I figure it,” Taliferro said, “you might know where Joey hid that money. Or at least have a pretty good idea.”

  Benny tried to laugh. “I wish.”

  “Then we got a problem here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  The coffee was ready. Benny took the glass pot off the burner, poured some into the mugs.

  “Joey didn’t trust anyone,” he said. “Not even his own people. Why would I know where he stashed his money? If he did in the first place, which I doubt.”

  “He wouldn’t have to tell you, for you to know,” Taliferro said. “You were the smartest one in that crew. You’re the only one still standing, right?”

  Benny weighed the coffeepot in his hand. It was still half full. He put it back on the burner, opened a drawer. The Ginsu paring knife was where it always was, beside the cutlery tray. He took a teaspoon out, stirred the coffee in the mugs, left the drawer half open. He tossed the spoon in the sink.

  “Got some cookies somewhere if you want them.” He put Taliferro’s mug on the table. “Chips Ahoy, I think.”

  “Stop screwing around. Talk to me.”

  Benny sat back down, sipped his coffee. It singed his tongue. He rolled the mug between his hands to warm them, limber up his fingers, Taliferro watching him.

  “Here’s the deal,” Benny said. “I don’t know where that money is, or even if it exists. And if it did—a big if, by the way—I wouldn’t even know where to start looking.”

  “It didn’t go far, I’d bet. Joey never had much imagination. He knew the city, that’s all.”

  “Then it’s probably in a bank somewhere. Safe deposit box.”

  Taliferro shook his head. “He wouldn’t leave it someplace the G might get it. No, it’s stashed somewhere, probably all of it in one place. That’s the way he was.”

  “Then you know more about it than I do,” Benny said. He drank coffee.

  Taliferro rocked back on his chair. “Well, then, like you said, here’s the deal. I think you know more than you’re telling. We can stay out here as long as we need to, and find out. Or we can take you back with us, whether you want to go or not. The girl too. Put you in the fucking trunk if we have to.”

  “Nice. That’s the way you ask for my help?”

  “I’m through asking. Way I look at it, you’ve got two ways to go. Come with us, help us look, maybe get a taste of that money. Or keep shining me along, and we’ll find out what you know anyway, leave you in a cornfield somewhere. And you won’t be alone.”

  “Not much of a choice.”

  “Maybe not. But there it is.”

  Benny got up, took his mug to the counter. “If I go back with you, what do I have to do?”

  “Ask around. Talk to some of those old-timers you know. Take us around some places.”

  “Maybe somebody’s already found it.”

  “No, I would’ve heard. Besides, no one had the balls to look for that money when Joey was still alive. Everybody was too scared of him. But now he’s gone, people are gonna start looking. We get there first, you get a nice piece of it.”

  “That might work out,” Benny said. “If I get some assurances.”

  “Assurances? Don’t overestimate your position here.”

  Benny smiled, filled his mug again. Steam rose from the cup.

  “Don’t worry about that,” he said. “After all these years, one thing I’ve learned is to see things as they are.”

  “There you go,” Taliferro said. “Like I said, smart.”

  Taliferro picked up his mug with his right hand, and Benny knew this was his best chance. He turned fast, still holding the coffeepot, swung it wide and into Longo’s forehead.

  The pot exploded, and glass and coffee flying. Longo cried out, fell back against the counter, hands at his face. As he went down, Benny took the paring knife from the drawer, turned just as Taliferro began to stand, with his right hand going into his overcoat pocket.

  He shoved the knife into Taliferro’s right shoulder, just above the armpit. The point went in two inches, hit something hard. Taliferro grunted, pulled at the hilt with his left hand, tangled in his chair and went over backward.

  Benny knelt beside Longo, heard Dominic coming down the hall. He flung a wild elbow back, caught Longo in the face, then pushed a hand into his jacket pocket, felt the pistol he’d hoped was there. His hand closed around it, finger on the trigger.

  Dominic stood in the kitchen doorway, gun in hand. Benny tilted Longo’s gun up inside the pocket, hoped it didn’t have to be cocked first.

  Dominic looked around the room, confused, then at Benny, just as he squeezed the trigger.

  The shot was loud. Material blew out of the jacket, and Dominic’s left leg went out from under him. He hit the floor hard.

  Longo’s arm locked around Benny’s throat, pulled him back. Benny tugged at the gun. It s
nagged inside the pocket for a moment, then came free, a chromed automatic.

  Longo clawed at Benny’s eyes, sent his glasses flying. Benny twisted away, hit him twice across the bridge of the nose with the butt of the gun, then again in the right temple. Longo’s eyes lost focus. He fell onto his side.

  Benny scrambled away, stood, breathing heavy. Dominic had dropped his gun, was holding his left leg with both hands. Benny swept the gun away with his foot, sent it skittering into a corner. He leaned over, reached into Dominic’s coat pocket, took out his own Colt, stood back, a gun in each hand.

  Taliferro had the knife out, his hands slick with blood. He was on his knees, but moving slow, his face white. Lucky shot, Benny thought. Through the overcoat and all, he’d hit something important.

  He stuck Longo’s gun in his coat pocket. Marta was in the doorway, watching him.

  “What happened?” she said. “Are you all right?”

  Taliferro stayed on his knees, left hand holding his right shoulder. Longo was still motionless, slumped against the counter. Benny looked around, found his glasses, put them back on. The frames were bent, but the lenses intact.

  “You motherfucker,” Dominic said. “You son of a bitch.” He was holding his leg just above the knee, blood coming through his fingers.

  Marta went past him, got his gun from the corner. She pointed it at him, her finger tight on the trigger.

  “No,” Benny said. “Don’t.” He was breathing hard, had trouble getting the words out. He put a hand over the gun she held, guided it down and away, Dominic watching them. She let Benny take it.

  “Get the suitcases,” he said. “Start putting some clothes together. For both of us. Quick as you can.”

  “Are you okay, baby?”

  “I’m good. Go on.” He stuck Dominic’s gun in his belt.

  When she was gone, Benny looked at Taliferro and said, “I should kill all three of you.”

  “You have not got the balls.”

  Benny’s glasses began to slide. He pushed them back up his nose. They were still crooked.

  Longo groaned. Benny looked at him, then back at Taliferro. “You got a gun in that pocket?”

  Taliferro spit on the floor. “Come over here and find out.”

  The Colt started to tremble. Benny steadied it with his other hand.