FIXED FIGHT
by
E. Ivan Infante
January 25th 1938
Mike Chance stood in the stern of the Bearcat water-taxi and tugged at the collar of the tuxedo he had stolen from a drunk the night before. He had misjudged the size of his victim and the shirt was too tight and the sleeves too short. The wind picked up and threw sea-spray at him. It soaked him good and he snapped out of it.
The boat surged up a big wave, so Mike braced himself. As the craft tumbled down the other side of the swell, Mike let his knees give a little and he swayed down to get a glance through the hatch into the passenger compartment.
There weren’t many people in there. Only Benny and a couple of sour-faced gunmen sat in the cabin. Benny wore a well-tailored tuxedo, while the gunmen sat across from him in over-sized coats that bunched up around their necks and made their heads look tiny. They had rendezvoused with Mike and Benny in the parking lot and frisked them without saying a word. Then they had escorted them down to the boat, ushered them onboard, and frisked them again.
Waves rocked the boat and a gust of wind brought more seawater. This time it came in buckets, so Mike ducked down and slid below deck into the cabin. He sat down next to Benny and lit a cigarette. He glared through his smoke at the gunmen, then turned away and looked out the square portholes at the angry white-crested waves. On calm days, the run from the Santa Monica pier took ten minutes. This wasn’t one of those days.
Mike looked over at his partner. Benny’s eyes were shut and his face was a milky pale green. Across from him, the gunmen leered with anticipation. One of them held a fiver. The other had his finger’s crossed. They had wagered on Benny throwing up: the odds were 5 to 1 in favor of sick. Mike liked those odds. He reached into his pocket and brought out a couple of bucks. He waved them at the gunman holding the fiver. The thug twisted his face a few teeth short of a smile and reached into his jacket. His hand came back with a ten. Mike nodded, then turned his attention back to Benny. The little guy had his eyes screwed shut and he was sweating bullets, but he was keeping his lunch down.
Mike looked out the portholes again. On the horizon, a hulking cargo ship bobbed low in the water. A long wooden building had been constructed on the main deck of the rusty vessel and there was a big neon sign that spelled out CASINO in bright red letters on top of it. Right now this sign was not lit.
The water-taxi slowed as it got close to the gambling ship. There was a floating wooden platform tightly bound to the side of cargo vessel and the water-taxi docked against it with a light thud. As soon as it did, Benny shot up from his seat, snatched the fiver from the gunman, and bounded out of the cabin. Mike collected his ten too, then followed him. The gunmen came last. Their bravado dissipated as they got off the boat. They weren’t tough guys anymore. Now they were regular Joes on the job.
The wind picked up as they stepped onto the dock and the platform bobbed up and down in the swells. It was kept afloat by empty oil barrels and it seemed to roll with them, so it was hard for Mike and Benny to keep their balance as they made their way to a gangplank that led up to the main deck. There was a steel door suspended over the base of this walkway, ready to be dropped at a moment’s notice.
Benny and Mike took a long look at this door as they waited for several trouble boys and a few sailors to come down the gangway to board the water-taxi for the return trip. While they waited, the gunman who lost the bet came over to them. He started patting them down again, but this time his heart wasn’t in it. A wave crashed over the platform and the gunman’s shoes got wet and he gave up. Instead, he motioned for them to follow him up the ramp to the main deck.
Mike hesitated. He turned back to Benny and tugged at the lapel of his tuxedo. “You sure I need this outfit?”
“They have a dress code on board, Mike. Besides, we need to make a good impression.” Benny took the lead and headed up the ramp.
“I don’t care about making a good impression.” Mike shouted into the wind.
Benny called back over his shoulder. “Don’t get bent out of shape. I’ve talked to Tino. He doesn’t bear any grudges.” Benny moved quickly up the walkway. He knew his way around. He had been on this boat many times.
“Maybe he just keeps his grudges to himself.” Mike hurried to catch up, but stopped at the top of the walkway to look back toward Santa Monica. He tried, but he couldn’t see it through the gathering fog.
Benny kept up his patter. “Grudge or not. This is our best option. It’s just bad luck our guy works for these boys.”
“Why this kid? Any fighter could do it.” Mike had lapped up the con as soon as Benny had spilled it, but Mike wasn’t so sure about the execution.
“For one thing, this kid’s done it before, so I know he’s game and he can sell it good. I’ve heard that from people I know.” Benny stepped off the ramp onto the deck of the gambling ship. It was the first time he had felt steady since leaving Santa Monica and he paused to catch his breath and wipe his brow with a blue silk handkerchief.
“If that’s the one thing, what’s the other?” Mike asked as he stepped off the gangplank behind his pal.
“Relax, buddy.” Benny had his smile back on. He was warming up his hustle. “This guy, he’s good, he’s been around the track. I looked all over.” Benny tucked away his handkerchief.
“What do you mean you looked all over?” Mike stepped in front of Benny and blocked his path. “You said you wouldn’t have to spread the word. You said you knew somebody.”
Benny’s face turned pale and his hands went shaky. “I do know somebody. And he knows somebody.”
“How many somebody’s are we talking about?” Mike was losing his temper.
“We need this, Mike. As soon as they came to me with the mark, I knew we had to do it.” Benny shifted on his feet. “Listen, the venue is out of town. I kept that under wraps. Everything will be fine.”
“It won’t be fine. They own the fixed fight game west of the Mississippi. They’ll figure me when they hear about it. And they’ll find you when they look.”
“It’ll be over too soon. It’ll be over before they get here.” Benny sneered. He was tired of talking about it.
Mike lunged forward and grabbed Benny by the collar. Benny tried to twist away, but Mike didn’t let go. Instead he shook him harder. He could have lifted the little guy off his feet easily, but he resisted that temptation. Two gunmen stepped out of the shadows of a nearby hatchway and interrupted them. When Mike saw them, he let Benny loose and turned to face the trouble boys. One of them dangled a shotgun under his arm. The other was small and scrawny and held his hat in his hands. They looked vaguely similar to the gunmen from the water-taxi, but they were of a harder more dangerous variety and they were probably more expensive.
“We gotta check ya.” The small guy motioned for them to turn around and put their hands on the railing.
Benny and Mike complied and the pat down went smoothly. It was more thorough and professional than the others, but it still came up empty. The guy with the shotgun looked disappointed, but his buddy smiled in relief and tipped his hat and pointed out the way for them to go. Benny clapped his frisker on the shoulder and gave him a high wattage smile, then Benny went where he was directed and disappeared into the ship. Mike stayed close his buddy. He was having trouble concentrating now. His mind was all twisted around by the news Benny had let slip. The word was out. They would be coming. He felt a rage build as he stared at the back of Benny’s head. Mike edged closer and closer toward taking a swing, then Benny turned and smiled at him and the feeling dissipated.
Mike switched his focus from murder to the gambling ship. The words SS KING were
written everywhere in bright fresh paint. That was the only sign of newness. The rest of the place was damp and weathered. The vessel had been a cargo ship at one time, but the trouble boys had made a lot of alterations and the distant past was unrecognizable. They had chopped down the funnels that expelled the steam and stripped out the boiler, then built what looked like a barn with all the care of a child tossing blocks. When they were done, they called it a casino. Whatever it was, it was heavy. It gave the ship a very low profile in the water. Mike figured that was the way these boys ran everything, top heavy and muscled down. In fact, the syndicate probably kept a bunch of children in the hold doing a bucket brigade to keep the ship from sinking. Mike decided to keep this notion to himself. His partner wouldn’t want to know about it. Benny couldn’t swim.
They rounded a corner and stepped into a passageway that led to the front of the casino. In the daylight, the chipped paint stood out and the place looked frightful and cheap. On the SS King, the classy only came out at night under the twinkle of the tiny white lights strung everywhere. Mike imagined the casino ship was quite a sight when the sun went down. That was when it mattered. That was when the water-taxis plowed back and forth from Santa Monica and every trip was crowded. Mike looked forward to seeing the glamour and the glare of the bright neon. The place made a lot of people believe in glowing promise. It had to be a sight to see.
“You coming?” Benny noticed Mike was off, so he grabbed him by the arm and pulled him out of it.
“Sorry. Just taking a look around.” Mike had a little bit of a headache. He tried to shake it off.
“Looking around? At what? There’s only ugly on the outside. Wait ‘til we get inside. The glitz is something to see. These boys know there business. Come on.” Benny let go of Mike’s arm and kept walking.
They continued down the passageway until they got to a hatch that opened onto a broad deck spanning the stern of the ship. From there, it was a short walk to the front doors where the words KING CASINO were stenciled in big black letters on the frosted glass window panels. Benny gave Mike a wink before he opened the door. Mike ignored the gesture.
When they stepped inside, Mike was impressed. He had to give Benny a nod in recognition that they had entered another world. What had looked like a crumbling rundown barn from the outside was a spacious luxury casino on the inside. Mike took a look around. Everything was a little too much: the tables too broad, the chairs too plush, and the thick faces at the bar too hard.
The faces drew Mike’s attention. He scanned them carefully. They sat there sipping whiskey out of too-big tumblers with heaters bulging under their jackets. Mike didn’t see a man among them he couldn’t take, but he saw a couple that could take him. Benny nudged him with an elbow and pointed at the walls.
Several decks had been stripped out to make the casino, but their portholes remained. The grey light of the storm streamed through these windows and provided the only illumination. The trouble boys kept the ornate chandeliers dark until business hours.
Benny headed for the stairs and Mike followed. As they made their way down, the faces at the bar turned in unison to track their movements. Benny kept his eyes looking elsewhere, but Mike didn’t lower his gaze. He met every stare and didn’t blink. One after the other, the tough guys looked away.
Benny led Mike on a zigzag route through the gaming tables toward the long wooden bar that ran the length of the back wall. There was a mirror almost two stories tall behind the bar with the words KING CASINO painted on it in large ornate letters. Mike caught a reflection in the glass as he read the words. It took him effort to recognize himself.
A heavyset barman stood behind the bar under the letter K and dried a glass with a white rag. When they sidled up to the bar, he gave them the big eye, put the glass down, and stepped forward cracking his knuckles. He nodded at Benny, but he didn’t smile. That didn’t stop Benny. He smiled enough for both of them.
“How’s you doin’, old man.” Benny drummed on the bar with his fingers and the palms of his hands. Mike stood behind him and lit a smoke.
“I’m doin’.” The barman stepped to the side to get a better view of Mike.
“Tino around?” Benny moved to stay between the barman and Mike.
“Where else he gonna be?” The barman reached under the bar with his right hand and grabbed a blackjack.
Mike stepped forward to meet the threat, but Benny caught his movement in the mirror and raised his palms to signal calm.
The barman spoke over Benny’s head. “Keep coming if you want to get crated.”
“Let’s see you make that happen.” Mike kept coming.
“Come on, Mike.” Benny stopped him with a barred arm.
“Don’t stop him, I need the exercise.” The barman was on the move toward the end of the bar. He handled the blackjack with skill and experience.
Benny moved along the bar with the barman staying right in front of him. “Look, fella, we all need a little exercise, but we came to talk to Tino. What’s he gonna say if you keep us from seeing him?”
The barman stopped in his tracks, but not because of Benny’s words. He stopped because a hidden door opened in the wall-size mirror behind him and a man in a wide-collared white tuxedo shirt stepped out. He had his sleeves rolled up and a green eyeshade perched on his head. He smelled like money.
“These the boys here for Tino?” Green Eyeshade asked the barman.
“They say so.” The barman sounded disappointed. He wanted to tussle.
Green eyeshade ignored the barman and gave Mike and Benny the once over. He looked them up and down and frowned. “I know these boys. They’re expected. Come on.” He stepped back and signaled for them to come through the door.
Benny gave the barman another smile and patted the bar one more time before heading through the mirror. Mike didn’t come right away. He stayed behind and stared down the barman. The fellow showed his laundry. He turned and went back to polishing his glass. Mike still didn’t move. Benny had to come back and get him.
Benny pulled Mike through the door and Green Eyeshade stepped out of the shadows and closed it behind them. They stood at the base of a very narrow spiral staircase. The only light came from a small red bulb somewhere above them. Green Eyeshade motioned for them to climb the stairs. They hesitated and stared up into the red dimness. Green Eyeshade motioned again.
Benny shrugged and went first. He clattered up the steps and disappeared. Mike went next and reached the top right behind his partner. The stood at one end of a catwalk that ran along the length of the casino behind the two-way mirror. The walkway had a clear view of the gaming floor and, at various points, there were chairs where security sat smoking and watching the players.
Mike and Benny admired the view until Green Eyeshade came up behind them and pointed for them to move along. He wasn’t much for talking. He was a pointer and, when they hesitated, he pointed again at a door at the far end of the catwalk, then crossed his arms and waited. Benny and Mike moved slowly out of spite. When they could tell they were getting under their escort’s skin, they ambled even slower. It was a long time before they got to the door.
On the other side of the door, bright light hit them hard and made them squint and it took a second for them to get their bearings. They were in a long passageway with portholes and bright overhead lights. A couple of big guys in bright white tuxedo shirts leaning against the bulkhead smoking a few feet from the door. They had convincers under their arms in leather holsters and they didn’t make eye contact with Benny or Mike. They focused themselves on the cinders at the end of their smokes, except for one of them, he snuck periodic glances down at Mike’s shoes. Green Eyeshade nodded at the gun men. They ignored him, so Green Eyeshade shrugged them off, waved for Benny and Mike to stay with him, and headed down the passageway.
The further they went into the ship; the more it took on a touch of cheap class. The next passageway was lined with shiny wood panels and had little black curtains hanging over the porthol
es on cheap brass rods. At the far end of the corridor, a fat guy in a Panama hat dozed in a rickety chair. He had the brim pulled low over his eyes, but he snapped awake when Green Eyeshade got close to him.
Green Eyeshade greeted Panama hat with a broad smile. Panama reciprocated, then stood up and opened the door behind him and waved for Mike and Benny to follow him. They did as directed and Panama led them along another wood-paneled passageway. Green Eyeshade didn’t come with them. He vanished.
Panama stopped at a hatch that was painted brass to match the fixtures. The original ship-green showed through the new paint in patches. The boys had run out before they finished. Panama opened the door and motioned them through. They did as he directed, but he didn’t come with them. He closed the door behind them.
Benny and Mike stepped into a large compartment lit by three globular lamps that burned dim yellow. Under a porthole painted black, an old man in a white suit and red tie sat at a desk with a racing form spread out in front of him. In his arthritic hook of hand, he clutched a stubby pencil and made arcane symbols on the paper. He looked up from his work and gave them the once over. He had a vicious squint.
Mike stayed by the door, but Benny headed for the old man. Before he had gone two steps, the old man jumped up and stopped him with the upraised palm of his hand.
“We’re here for Tino.” Benny fidgeted in the middle of the room.
“No shit.” The old man snarled.
He moved pretty fast for his age and headed for a door in the wall next to him. He stepped through, but he didn’t close it behind him. He held it ajar and they could hear muffled voices. After a second, Tino slipped into the room. He wore a tuxedo and had a shiny Colt chrome .45 dangling at the end of his arm.
CHAPTER TWO
Tino looked at them and shook his head. He hadn’t seen either of them since the old man died and doing so didn’t make him happy. It irritated him. Mike shifted on his feet and judged his distance from Tino’s gun. Benny stood stock still. He didn’t even breathe.
Fixed Fight (Mike Chance series Book 2) Page 1
