by Ivan Infante
Mike and Benny hiked away from the car, out of the clearing, and up the side of the ravine to the highway. They walked on the shoulder for more than an hour before sunrise. They stopped to smoke cigarettes and watch it.
Once it was daylight, Benny began trying to flag down passing cars. Eventually, a farmer in a stake-bed truck with International Harvester stamped in the chrome on the hood pulled over. They walked to the front of the truck. Before they got there, the driver waved them off and thumbed toward the stake bed. They looked it over for a second. It was full of hogs, hog shit and hay. Benny hesitated and grimaced. He didn’t want to get dirty. Mike tapped on Benny’s shoulder and pointed at the column of the smoke visible on the horizon. Benny exhaled, pinched his nose, and climbed in with the hogs. Mike got in after him.
They sat in the back with their necks craned out over the side desperate for clean air. They rode this way all the way to the city. At the first stop sign on the eastern edge of Los Angeles, they climbed out of the back of the truck. They didn’t bother to thank the driver or even get his attention. As the farmer pulled away, they dusted themselves off and kept walking. A few minutes later, they waved down a cab and told the driver to take them back to Benny’s place. It was a long ride across the city. They fell asleep in the back seat.
When they reached their destination, the driver held the horn down to wake them. The loud noise snapped Mike awake angry. He lunged for the front seat. He had his hands around the driver’s throat before Benny managed to wrestle Mike off and out of the cab. The driver sped off.
Back at Benny’s place, they sat hunched over the table in the kitchen. The staff worked around them. Occasionally, a customer came in and Benny had to greet them at the bar with a fake smile and an expansive wave. Mostly, it was quiet and they were left alone. They stewed.
“Someone got it.” Benny leaned back in his seat and stated the obvious.
“Whoever did get it will be hard to find, and if you did manage to find’em, they’d be intent on keeping it.” Mike rarely welcomed conversation, but he didn’t like being deprived. He mulled it over and grinded his teeth. He couldn’t let this go easy. “I mean, they’d plan to be hard to find…unless you knew’em.” He glared at Benny.
“Take it easy. Don’t look my way. Look someplace else.” Benny snapped.
“Tell me which way to look.”
“Oh, relax, tough guy. You wanna do something? Be forward thinking. We have to take the girl ourselves if we want our own fifty.” Benny chuckled.
“Not since Lindbergh, no sir.” Mike meant it. He wasn’t going to take the girl and all the heat that would go along with it.
“Maybe you should take a trip up the hill and talk to her old man.” Benny sat back in his chair. His brain worked as fast as it could.
“No, I’ll talk to Tino. They probably don’t even know about Doug. Once they see he’s missing it’ll be better if we’ve talked to them already. That way, they won’t work up a bad mood looking for us.” Mike grimaced and gripped his head. Losing the fifty thousand brought back the pain. It felt like a mule had kicked him in the skull.
“He’ll be on the golf course today.” Benny spoke with confidence.
“You did your research.” Mike offered Benny a smoke.
Benny took it. Benny was a pro. “I once’d over Tino when we got into this. Where would he be the morning after the job?” Benny lilted the words like he was asking himself the question. Then he clasped his hands in front of him to emphasize the truth of his answer. “Wilshire Country Club.” Benny looked at his watch. “Tee time in about fifteen minutes.”
“You drive.” Mike said.
CHAPTER TEN
The country club was north of Wilshire and to the west of them. They puttered up in a blue Willys 77 that Mike had stolen from the parking lot across the street from Benny’s saloon. Benny drove. He parked on Rossmore under a bright blue Jacaranda tree that stood across the street from the ornate iron entrance gate.
“You’re not pulling in?” Mike tossed his cigarette out the window and grabbed the door handle.
“No. If we gotta leave in a hurry, we don’t wanna be standing around there waiting for the parking boy.” Benny didn’t take his hands off the wheel.
Mike got out. Benny didn’t. Mike came around to the driver’s side and leaned into Benny’s window. “You’re not coming?”
“I’ll be out here with the engine running just in case you get on their bad side. Besides, I’m a little too Mediterranean to walk through those gates.” Benny pronounced Mediterranean like it was a slur.
“What the hell does that mean?”
“Palestine.” Benny said.
Mike thought that over, almost spoke, then thought it over some more before he said. “Yeah, you got some good reasons there.” With that, he turned away and crossed Rossmore toward the gate.
It was a beautiful day. The sky was clear and the sun was hot, but a cool ocean breeze dispelled any warmth before it could gather. It kept things brisk. Mike walked the course looking for Tino. He saw a couple of greenskeepers. They winced at the sight of his shoes tearing up the greens. One of them took a step toward Mike like he wanted to have a talk, but his co-worker grabbed his arm, pulled him back, and whispered something into his hear.
Somewhere around the seventh hole, Mike caught up with Tino and his boys. Mike noticed them from quite a ways off. He knew their type of flash – all bright colors and brand new equipment. An old partner of Mike’s had called it ‘dressing Chicago.’ These guys did it in spades. Mike watched Tino hit a drive while Big and Bigger stood nearby holding their clubs like weapons and keeping an eye out for trouble. Biggest was nowhere in sight. Bigger saw Mike and pointed him out to Tino.
Tino waved at Mike and signaled from him to meet them on the green where Tino’s ball was rolling to a stop near the flag. Mike waved back and followed instructions. When Mike caught up to them on the green, he found it hard not to laugh and gouge them about their ensemble, particularly their little caps. Tino had a particularly small green plaid cap perched on the back of his head. It teetered there like a monkey riding a horse.
Tino walked over to Mike and led him away from the group. Big and Bigger took a few steps to join him, but Tino shook them off. Mike and Tino stopped on a steep part of the fairway a few yards from the green. Tino stood on higher ground. Big and Bigger looked on from a distance. They stood on the green next to the flag for the seventh hole. It looked tiny next to them. It had a red 7 on a white background. It snapped straight when the breeze came up.
“You must be here for a reason.” Tino had a cultivated look on his face. Mike knew that look. He had the same one tucked away himself.
“You lost a guy last night.” Mike didn’t feel the need to be discreet.
“Yeah? Well I lost money last night too. You gonna tell me anything about that?” Tino took out a cigar. He bit off the end of it and spit it out on the ground. Then he popped the cigar in his mouth and searched his jacket for a light. He didn’t find one.
Mike found a match. He lit it and cupped it in his hands to protect it from the wind. He offered it up to Tino. The mobster grabbed Mike’s wrist and pulled it forward. He held it steady as he leaned in and lit his cigar.
“Doug is dead.” Mike didn’t expect the news would matter much to Tino. He wasn’t wrong.
Tino stayed in neutral. “That’s too bad for Doug.” He shrugged. “Look I never liked him, to be honest with you, I never did. He wasn’t fit. You know what I mean. He was a fat man. Not fit in other ways too. The weight was just representational.”
“He was a heavy man. I can tell you that.” Mike kept a close eye on the two bodyguards behind Tino. They crept closer and closer.
“Can you tell me how heavy? Maybe 250 give or take fifty K or so?” Tino waved the cigar around as he talked. He used it more as a prop than out of any habit. It was all part of an act.
“I don’t have it.” Mike said.
“Then why am I talking to
you?” Tino turned and headed for the green. His men were halfway over by that point, but when he walked between them, Tino mumbled something and they turned around and followed him.
Mike kept coming. He got up on the green. Tino ignored him and started lining up his putt. Big and Bigger waited patiently near their balls. They glared at Mike when he approached Tino. Mike stopped in his tracks.
“Did the girl come back?” Mike asked right before Tino putted.
“They want 100k now.” Tino answered smoothly just like he putted. The ball rolled straight into the hole. “Or are you ‘them’. Are you the one that asks for 100?”
“The girl kidnapped herself.” Mike spilled the beans all over the place. Tino didn’t look at the ground. “We want the money as a reward, if we find her.”
“You sure you boys didn’t just shoot Doug and take the money and the girl. 50 and a hundred? That’s good work for just a couple of days off the train.” Tino sounded like he would admire Mike more if ‘yes’ were the answer.
“We just grift. That’s not our kinda operation.” Mike looked Tino in the eye.
“Now I know you’re lying.” Tino sneered.
“Doug knew all the details. We followed his lead.”
“Sure thing, buddy. Sure thing.” Tino walked off the green and motioned for Mike to follow him and make the green clear for his partners. When they reached the edge of the green, Tino put Mike to work. “Doug did tell me something interesting a few days before this started.” Tino let the words out low and slow. He cherished a good reveal. “I give this to you and you get that girl. I’ll give you 5 for a reward.”
“Sure.” Mike didn’t care about a reward. If he found the girl, he would find 50.
“Doug was supposed to pick her up at the train station a week or so ago.” Tino got serious. “She was coming in at night from back East where she sees her grandparents once every five years or so. Anyway, Doug went down to the station to get her and he’s gone a long time. The old man asked me about her. The old man asked me twice. So I got ready to call down there and ask questions like some square John, but right before I picked up the receiver, Doug came back. He brought her with him. She looked terrible, like she’d been crying. I wanted to talk to her, but she disappeared into her room, one of the few places I can’t go. When she left, I got Doug in a corner. I light up my cigar and I had a little talk with him.”
“What’d he say?” Mike took out a cigarette and lit it. He didn’t want it, but he figured using his fingers might help him relax. It didn’t. Inside, he revved up.
“The fat bastard tried to ignore me, but I pressed him. I told him that he might not know that he knows something important.” Tino stopped talking while Bigger stroked his putt. He missed. Tino started up again. “That happens a lot in our line, someone says something and it seems unimportant, but when a different, smarter person hears it, it becomes useful information.”
“I’ve seen that happen.” Mike got a word in. Then Big lined up his shot and putted so Mike stayed quiet. Big missed too.
Tino started to relax. “Doug didn’t want to listen, but I kept pressing him.” Tino moved his cigar like he was grinding the air as he spoke. “Finally, he told me the details. Doug said that when he went down to pick her up, he couldn’t find her. He looked and looked. He said it took him a long time to catch up with her. He found her sneaking a smoke with some railroad clerk who was off duty from the ticket window. Doug said that she walked away from the kid as soon as she saw him coming. She acted scared. That’s why she’d been crying. Doug had started in on her, running that thing you call the badger game.”
“You check into this kid?” Mike remembered the guy in the station. He should have braced the kid then and there, but he had overlooked him.
“I sent some boys down there the night she disappeared and I kept them there. They’re still there now. As of last night, no action. They saw you there the other day.”
“They talk to the kid?” Mike threw his butt aside. It smoldered on the well-trimmed green.
“I told them to let him be. Just watch. He’s been coming to work every night like normal.” Tino stopped as Big putted again. The ball dropped right in the hole. Big must have won a bet, because Bigger dug into his pocket and handed him a twenty. Tino brushed past Mike and did the same, except he gave Big a c-note. After handing over the cash, Tino turned back to Mike. “That kid we were talking about, he didn’t show up for work today.”
Tino started walking toward the next tee, then turned and said. “One more thing, try not to kill this kid, she’ll blame me if you do.” With that, the conversation was over. Tino and his boys sauntered off to the next tee. Mike watched them go. He resisted the urge to turn and run. Tino already had guys at the station. Their head start was probably why Tino had been so free with information. He didn’t think Mike would have a chance to use it.
Mike jogged down the long clean black driveway and out the front gate of the country club at a brisk pace. He sped up as he crossed the street to the car. Benny sat behind the wheel and smoked. He saw Mike coming, tossed his smoke out the window, and sat up in his seat.
Mike slid into the passenger seat next to him. “Back to the train station.”
“Everything go all right in there?” Benny asked.
“We’re working for him.”
“What?”
“I told him about Doug. He doesn’t care. He wants the girl back. We can get paid if we find her.” Mike explained.
“How the hell are we going to do that?”
“Apparently, she had a little thing going with the night clerk.” Mike answered. “That’s why we’re going to the station. The kid didn’t show up for work today. We need to get his address and get to his house and get the girl.” Mike knew the girl was there. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew.
“I hear ya.” Benny slipped the car into gear. It lurched forward and Benny u-turned with disregard for traffic. A couple of other cars had to swerve to avoid being hit.
Benny worked hard behind the wheel. Heavy traffic clogged up Wilshire all the way downtown, but Benny swerved in and out of lanes to try and make up time. Next to him, Mike sat calmly, smoked and stared out the window.
Somewhere near Sunset park, Benny slid into oncoming traffic trying to pass a slow moving truck. He headed straight for a traffic cop who stood in the intersection directing cars. The officer covered his face with his white gloved hands and froze in place when he saw the Willys 77 barreling towards him. At the last second, he snapped out of it and jumped to the side. As he rolled toward the gutter, he blew on his whistle. No one heard him.
After they almost hit the cop, Mike reached out and put his hand on Benny’s arm to slow him down. Benny pulled his arm away without looking over. He didn’t slow down. He kept up the high speeds all the way through downtown. A few more close calls later, he skidded to a halt on Santa Fe about a block away from the train station.
Benny parked close to the curb. He settled low into his seat and kept the motor running. He took a long look up and down the avenue as soon as he got comfortable. “You think Tino’s boys are still in there?” Benny tugged at his jacket.
Mike noticed that he had heat in there. “You should take that piece out and put it under your thigh where it’s easy to get at.”
“Sure thing.” Benny took the gun out of his pocket and slid it under his thigh that was closest to the door.
“Wait a few seconds, then pull up right in front.” Mike took out the Savage and gave it the once over. It looked as good as ever so he dropped it back into the hip pocket of his coat. “Keep the motor running and your eyes open. I might come out in a flash.”
With that, Mike got out of the car and jogged across the street into the station. It was deserted. He stood in the doorway and took the place in. A couple of soldiers lolled on a bench in the corner leaning against each other. They looked like they were sleeping one off, not waiting for a train. Mike focused on the ticket counter. No clerk stood
behind it. Mike crossed the lobby fast. He went down the passageway and past the newsstand toward the platforms.
Mike trotted out onto the first platform and scanned the few people he found out there waiting for the train. He saw who he was looking for right away. They sat on the same bench as the night before: two heavyweights in dark suits and wide brimmed hats reading yesterday’s papers with heat bulging under their jackets. Mike walked up to them. One wore glasses. Mike addressed him hoping he was smarter.
“You boys work for Tino?” Mike had his hand in his coat pocket next to his pistol in case the conversation took a wrong turn.
“Screw you, pal.” The thug with glasses had a slow way of talking. Mike had chosen the wrong guy. The other guy, the one who put his arm across his friend’s chest to slow him down and shut him up, he was smart. Mike turned to him.
“Is this about the girl?” The smart guy asked. “You the guy who was with Doug the night she vanished?”
“That’s right.” Mike wanted the down low quick, but he could tell smart guy would take a while to unspool his thread.
“Well that didn’t quite work out, did it?” The smart guy folded up his paper and stood up. The dumb guy in glasses followed his lead, but slower and with attitude.
“I already talked to Tino.” Mike said.
“I know you talked to him. He called me. He doesn’t like to call. That made me think you had to be important. Now I see you, I don’t think you’re so important.”
“You’re making me feel bad.”
“You don’t have feelings, bud.” Smart guy shifted his weight.
“That’s your opinion.” Mike directed his words at dumb guy. “You got opinions, too?”
“I ain’t got nothing.” Dumb guy had his hand in his waistband. He held his jacket open so his revolver could breathe.
Smart guy stepped forward. He had decided he didn’t want trouble. He was cutting his losses. “Tino told me to tell you what I told him. The kid didn’t come to work on schedule. I wanted to brace the clerk who took his place, but Tino told me to wait. On the phone just now he said he wanted you to do it.”
