by Ivan Infante
“Shave and a haircut?” Mike settled into the seat.
“Six bits.” The barber threw the sheet over Mike.
Mike smiled to himself. It would be the most he ever paid for a haircut. The barber got to work. He wet down Mike’s hair and cut it short. He clucked to himself when he saw the bruise, but made no mention of it. Once the hair was done, he slapped a hot towel on Mike’s face to prepare his skin for a straight razor shave. While they waited, the barber mustered some conversation.
“You from around here?” He asked.
“No, I just got in town.” Mike took a long time to answer. The towel on his face threw him off, plus he didn’t much like the question.
“So where are you from.” The barber kept the questions coming.
“I’m from all over. What about you?” Mike did his best to play along, but his head didn’t cooperate. It started to hurt. In the muffled darkness of the towel, he saw stars.
“Los Angeles born and raised. Not a lot of people can say that. I’m the only one of my friends that can.” The barber sounded chipper. Mike hated him for it.
“Good for you.” Mike’s head felt worse.
The barber whipped off the towel. The sudden light made Mike’s head hurt even more. His eyes took time to adjust, for a while they were blurry. When they cleared, he saw a copy of True Detective on the counter in front of him. He reached out and picked it up.
“You read that magazine?” The barber asked. “I love it. I follow every story.”
“No, not often. Just when I’m at the barber’s.” Mike had to focus on his words to get them out.
“Listen, I need to get a new strop to sharpen up this razor. I wouldn’t want to cut you.” With that, the barber disappeared into the back.
Mike opened the magazine and thumbed through it. The stories focused on bank robberies and unsolved murders. Mug shots of fugitives littered the pages. He turned the pages quickly until something caught his eye and he stopped. A sketch that looked a lot like him stared out from the last page of the magazine. Now, the pain in his head flared and Mike could barely make out the words that ran above the sketch. With difficulty, he read them: this sketch is an eyewitness description of a man wanted for questioning in the murder of a St. Louis bookie.
“That guy looks like you.” The barber smiled when he said it. Mike snapped out of it. He hadn’t noticed the man coming back.
“I guess it does.” Mike said in a cold even tone as he placed the magazine back on the counter.
The two men stared at each other in the mirror for a long time in complete silence. Mike clenched and unclenched his fists under the sheet. The barber gulped and moved away.
“Wait. I won’t say nothing.” The barber hurried the words out.
Mike jumped out of the chair and rushed him. The barber found some fight and slashed at Mike with the razor. Mike ducked under the blade and got in close. He savaged the man with a right uppercut that lifted him a foot off the ground. With his left, Mike grabbed the wrist that held the razor. Mike’s grip clamped down like a vice and crushed the barber’s wrist. The fat man dropped the razor and it clattered on the ground.
Mike let go of the wrist and shoved the barber against the counter. The barber slammed into the mirror, shattered it, and fell forward on his knees. Mike picked up the razor, moved quick, and got behind the barber. The man was down on all fours. Mike jumped on his back and grabbed his thick black hair. He pulled his head back, exposed his throat, and dragged the razor across the soft white flesh. He cut deep.
The barber’s neck opened up and he fell forward onto the ground. He clutched his throat with both hands and tried vainly to keep the blood in. It poured over his hands and down his chest. It spread in a dark pool across the floor.
Mike left the barber where he dropped, walked to the front door and locked it. He spent the next ten minutes searching the place. After he found the money, Mike washed the blood off of himself and cleaned the razor in the sink. Then he sat down in the barber chair and shaved himself. His head didn’t hurt anymore.
CHAPTER SIX
When Mike opened the door to his apartment, he found Benny sitting in the chair where Mike had spent the night. Mike stopped in his tracks when he saw him. Benny sat up when the door opened and spoke quickly. “Doug called me about a half hour ago.” Mike could swear the little guy’s teeth were chattering.
“You always just gonna let yourself in here?” Mike shut the door without turning his back on Benny.
Benny didn’t answer the question. He bared his teeth when he spoke again. “Listen to me. Doug called.”
“You talk to him?” Mike stayed by the door with his fists clenched at his side. He could tell Benny was winding up.
“I’m worried.” Benny hopped up out of the chair and started pacing.
Mike crossed the room to a liquor cart and poured a couple of drinks. He didn’t stare at Benny, but he kept him in the corner of his eye. Mike knew Benny had a tendency to worry. It was a trait that had kept Benny alive hundreds of time. It had kept Mike alive at least twice. Benny called it his edge. He said that when he stepped right up to the brink of it, he could do anything in the world. This edge made him aces as a partner.
Mike glided across the floor with the drinks. He handed one to Benny. He hoped it would slow Benny down so he could get some information out of him before Benny fell over his edge. The fall was inevitable and often spectacular.
“Lo took the call. He said it sounded serious.” Benny calmed down as he spoke. He absorbed Mike’s attitude and mirrored back his posture. It was another trait that made him tops on the grift.
“You think he opened his mouth to the boss? You think the organization wants a piece of our action?” This possibility had worried Mike from the beginning.
“I don’t know what Doug did, but I’ll leave town before I get involved with any organization.” Benny exhaled as he spoke those last words. He’d absorbed Mike’s emotions. Now, they were both still as stone.
Mike said. “You didn’t even take the call. Lo did. And now you’re already packing it in, just like that. I don’t think that call was what you think. No organization man is gonna waste time on small time hustlers like us. Think about it.” Mike regretted the last sentence. He knew the situation was worse than he was letting on and it wouldn’t take much more thinking for Benny to figure that out.
“Fine, then you deal with Doug. That fat bastard makes me edgy.” Benny said. He started shaking his head and muttering to himself. “This can’t be so bad. This can’t be so bad.”
“It won’t be.” Mike lied. “I promise you that. Now, you got a number we’re supposed to call for this guy? If so, let’s call it. Let’s get this over with.”
Mike headed to a phone that sat on a small round table in the corner of the living room. Benny followed him. Mike picked up the phone and handed it to Benny.
Benny ignored the phone. He looked past it at Mike’s suit. “You been shopping?”
“Yeah.” Mike showed off the suit to his friend. He’d bought it with the dead barber’s money. He left the clerk who sold it to him alive.
“I coulda helped you with that. Got ya something nicer.”
“This is fine.” Mike pushed the phone at Benny again.
“If you say so.” Benny took the phone. “Operator. Get me Klondike 6450.” Benny spoke clearly, then handed the phone back to Mike. The operator clicked over to the line.
“Hello.” The voice sounded neutral.
“Who is this?” Mike came on strong to see if he could knock something loose.
“Take it easy, tough guy.” Doug snarled back, but the venom was muted. He was talking low. “I need to meet you guys. Something’s come up. I think you might want to hear me out.”
The scheme hit Mike before Doug said another word. “This is about the girl?” Mike asked. He gritted the question through clenched teeth.
“Yeah, it’s about the girl.” Doug spoke fast.
Mike looked over
at Benny. Benny shrugged and whispered. “Money?”
“There money in it?” Mike asked.
“Of course, there’s money in it.” Doug answered.
“Benny and I will be in Sunset park. If you aren’t there in thirty, we’re walking.” Mike hung up.
“You sure about the time limit?” Benny went back to the chair and sat down.
“I think it’s funny to see a fat man run.” Mike lit a cigarette and moved back to the booze cart. He topped off his drink. He didn’t offer to do the same for Benny.
“Yeah, but you’re not gonna actually see him run. You’re just gonna see him out of breathe when he gets there.” Benny perched on the edge of his seat.
“The out of breath’ll be funny, too.” Mike answered.
“Pour me another.” Benny said.
“Sure thing.” Mike took his time. When he was done, he brought the drink over to Benny and slipped it into his palm. It was a smooth transaction.
“Is it gonna be cold in the park?” Mike asked.
“Relax, this is California. You won’t need a heavy coat.” Benny sipped calmly. He was standing on his edge looking over.
When they finished their drinks, Mike and Benny left the apartment. Mike stopped at the front door for a second and kneeled down and wedged a small piece of paper in the bottom corner of the door frame. If the paper dropped, Mike would know that Hank or someone else had come snooping around. Benny watched for a second, then headed for the elevator. Neither of them said a word.
They came out the back door into the alley and made a beeline for the park next to the Ashton. The quiet night was interrupted by a woman screaming at her husband a couple of floors up. She was really letting him have it. It sounded like some bird screeching, except for one word that came through clear. ‘Bastard.’
They came out from behind the Ashton and picked up their pace as they crossed the street into the park. A pair of headlights swung around the corner and caught them in the middle of the street. Benny and Mike covered their faces out of habit.
Once across the street, they crossed a thick weedy lawn until they reached a narrow dirt path that led deep into the park. Benny took the lead. It was pitch black. Benny didn’t stop until they reached a clearing where there were several stone benches arranged in a circle. Mike had left his gun under the pillow, but he still had the barber’s razor in his pocket. He gripped it tight. Benny sat down on the bench and scanned the darkness. Mike walked the edge of the clearing.
“It’s gonna take him a while.” Benny kept up a nervous patter while they waited. He talked about the New Deal, Upton Sinclair, fair wages, and a union for conmen and promoters. Mike asked him questions every once in awhile, but he didn’t pay attention to the answers. After a little more than half and hour, something in the darkness caught Mike’s eye. He stepped back and nodded at Benny. Benny stopped talking.
A hulking form took shape in the shadows. It was Doug. A neon sign on a nearby building behind Doug lit up for the first time that night. It made him appear enormous and it ringed him with a halo of light. As Doug got closer, the effect dissipated and he was just a fat guy in a tight suit with a self satisfied grin on his face. He approached them with his palms out and away from his body like a nightclub greeter. Mike didn’t like this at all.
Benny didn’t share Mike’s mood. “So what’s so important you gotta meet us out here in the middle of the night?” He asked with a smile.
“We don’t have much time if we’re going to do this.” Doug had the glint in his eye of someone who thought he’d struck gold.
“So this is about the girl?” Mike knew that look and liked it. He decided to take it easy on Doug until it became clear that Doug didn’t have any angles, then Mike would take it harder – a lot harder.
“Yeah, it’s about the girl.” Doug answered.
Benny got off the bench and stepped between them. “Let me guess there’s a reward for finding her and you know where she is?” Benny almost sounded disappointed.
“No.” Doug lowered his voice even though there was no one else around. “She was kidnapped.”
“She wasn’t kidnapped. I saw her running. She ran right into my car.” Mike looked over at Benny as he spoke. Mike could tell that the little guy was already adding numbers up in his head.
Doug stood up straight before he disagreed with Mike. “You say she wasn’t kidnapped. Maybe yes, maybe no.” He spoke the next part slow and clear. “But my boss is paying a ransom and his money is real.”
“So what?” Mike already knew the answer.
Doug was beaming. He pointed at himself with his thumbs. “This guy got chosen to deliver it.”
Benny chimed in. “So if it is fake, and you’re saying it’s fake.” He nodded in Mike’s direction. “Then that’s even better?” Benny was in. Mike could tell by the way he stepped forward after each part of his question. He was moving physically closer to Doug. He was feeding off the energy.
“How much are we talking?” Mike still wasn’t sure.
“We’re talking fifty.” Doug and Benny stood next to each other now and faced Mike. They leaned forward as Doug spoke as if this would somehow entice Mike over to their side.
“She’s selling herself short. She should have asked for a hundred. Then it might be worth the trouble.” Mike knew how much she was worth. He had seen her.
“She’s being realistic. The old man isn’t as plugged in as he used to be. We got independents springing up all over.” Doug shrugged that off without much care. He didn’t feel tied to his boss’s fortunes.
Benny watched Mike as Doug spoke. Mike remained impassive. Benny took that as a positive and extended his hand to Doug. “It’s good. You get twenty and we get thirty.” Benny knew Mike would go along with the offer. Mike always let Benny make the deals.
“Deal.” Doug barked as he shook Benny’s hand. Then he turned to Mike. “All right?”
It took a while for Mike to answer. “All right.” He shrugged. Mike had the feeling that the money wasn’t going to be worth the trouble, but this was the thing that was happening right now and he had walked, or rather driven, right into it. Who was he to fight circumstance? He took what came.
Doug swelled up a little when Mike agreed. He spoke fast. “Here’s the deal. I’m supposed to be getting some rest while they round up the cash. It won’t take them long. They’ve got most of it on hand. Old Adolf is mostly buying time to try and find them. He runs out of time at dawn. I’m supposed to be waiting at the house by then. They call and tell us where. I bring the bundle to wherever they say.”
“Why you?” Mike asked.
It occurred to him that Doug could have helped himself to the boss’s daughter. Maybe they were in this together. Mike almost dismissed the thought as soon as he had it. He pictured the girl when she hit the car. She had flown through the air like an angel. She was too much woman for Doug. Still, she could be playing an angle and getting this dumb lug to help her. As soon as she got the money, she could drop him. Doug was dumb enough to believe her if she tried it that way and he had the look of someone that it would be easy to get rid of. It was written all over him.
“Are you sleeping with her?” Mike changed his demeanor and stepped quickly toward Doug with each word of the question. Benny could tell what was happening and a veil of worry dropped over his face.
“What?” Doug took a couple of steps backward, but he was too slow. Mike grabbed him by the hair with his left hand. His right hand came out of his pocket. He left the razor blade behind. He popped Doug in the nose with his fist and the fat man fell to his knees.
“Did she sleep with you?” Mike hit him again. Doug crumpled.
“No, no, no.” Doug’s words were covered in blood.
Mike wasn’t done. He reared his arm back again, but Benny was on him. The little guy couldn’t stop the blow, but he slowed it down. Mike let go of Doug’s hair when Benny intervened and the tubby gangster crumpled to the ground. Mike and Benny hovered over him. Do
ug pulled himself together and sat like a woman with his legs curled under him.
“Jeez, Mike. You hurt him bad. He’s bringing a job to us. Lay off the guy. We’ll need him if we decide to do it. We’ll need him.” Benny feigned concern. He worked this angle to get Doug to trust him.
Mike calmed down. He and Benny were back in rhythm. He motioned for a cigarette. Benny reached into his pocket, but he didn’t have any so he kneeled down next to Doug and went through the fat man’s coat. Doug didn’t object. He sat there in a daze with both hands on his nose. Benny found a pack in Doug’s pocket. He took it and handed it to Mike.
“He’ll be fine.” Mike took out a cigarette and lit it. “Pull yourself together Doug.” Mike blew smoke at Doug after his words.
“Yeah, I got it. I hear ya.” Doug snapped out of it. He shifted his legs and started to stand. Benny and Mike grabbed him by the arms and pulled him up.
“Why don’t you stay with him, Benny? Be there when he gets the call.” Mike knew Doug needed watching, but he couldn’t do it himself. Doug might say something that would turn Mike sour and then Mike would have to kill him.
“Sure thing. What do you say, Doug? You hungry?” Benny followed Mike’s lead.
Benny put his hand on Doug’s arm and steered him away from Mike. Mike watched them go. Before they disappeared into the dark, Benny got up on his toes and whispered something into Doug’s ear. Mike liked the look of that. Benny was going to charm Doug until the job was over. Benny would lull him to the point where it would be a genuine surprise when he didn’t get his share. That is what Benny did best. After they left, Mike checked his watch. He had a few hours. He figured on using the time to sleep, so he trudged back the way he’d came. In a few yards, when he stepped out from the trees, the bright neon ASHTON sign on his building blinked at him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Mike ambled across the street toward the back of his building. Far to his right, traffic rumbled down Wilshire. When he got to the alley, music drifted down from an apartment high above him. Benny had told him that this side of the Ashton was the good side. Most people preferred a park view, but not Mike. He liked the view into the other building that he got from his apartment. He looked forward to sitting and smoking cigarettes and staring into other people’s windows. If someone forgot to lower their blinds and turn off their lights, Mike would be looking. He smiled just thinking about it. His neighbor’s lives were a primer. He could learn a lot from watching them. To him, that was better than the park. For one thing, there was the occasional naked woman. You didn’t get that in the park or, at least, not nearly as often.
