Sherlock Holmes Mystery Magazine #2

by Gary Lovisi

  “Figure Hank will go in at a c-note per, and the other guys will bid pretty much the same. Hank, though, will offer points on everything taken in over one and a half, and he’s got a good enough reputation to maybe pull it off. He’ll move most of them for about one and three quarters and kick back another couple of c-notes when he’s done in about a month, clearing over two grand.”

  The statement was made so quickly and so matter-of-factly that this time not only didn’t I have time to get the creepies but I was even ready with my next question.

  “So what do I bid?”

  “More cash up front and pay off quicker. Come in at one and a quarter for the entire drop.”

  I figured it out as best I could while sitting in a darkened car talking to I wasn’t sure who.

  “Okay, that’s five kay up front for maybe two later. But I haven’t got the five.”

  The car was silent. I wasn’t scared anymore. Now I was anxious. I mean, I got used to the idea pretty quick of Max talking to me but now if he wasn’t talking to me, why? Bringing the cap I was still holding at arms length closer, I waited. Nothing. Taking a deep breath I plunged right in and put the cap back on my head.

  The shout nearly deafened me.

  “After twenty years with me if you don’t think you can get trust on half the load, and that’s only twenty sets, for less than a week, you don’t think at all.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I replied meekly. “I wasn’t thinking.”

  After what was a welcome pause, giving my ringing ears a rest, the next communication was almost gentle.

  “Listen kid, Charley, my friend, I want to look out for you but I don’t know how long I can. You’ve gotta start thinking. I know that anyone who can use a mouth the way you do has got to have something going on behind the mouth.”

  “Okay, half on spec and payment in full before the second half. I know I can move them on the streets, I think.” Feeling pretty satisfied with myself, I sat there thinking about my very first, my very own, deal.

  “Uhh, by the way,” I finally asked when the glow started to wear off and the curiosity returned, “is that really you Max?”

  I decided to wear ear plugs whenever I wore the cap after the next answer. He came through, loud—which is an understatement—and clear.

  “No, you idiot. It’s the blinking tooth fairy.”

  * * * *

  When I got home my wife was waiting for me with mascara-streaked eyes. I knew something was very wrong. Dotty would never let herself be seen, even by me, looking like that. It was her defense against the extra fifty pounds she’d put on after we were married—the eyelashes had to be perfect 24-hours a day. The hospital had called. Max was dead. He died just minutes after I left the room and, my mind boggled at the thought, probably before I’d put his cap on.

  Dotty liked Max a lot. He’d taken care of both of us when we first got married, almost like the father neither one of us had. If we’d have had kids he would have thought them his own flesh and blood, but we didn’t. Almost, and Dotty remembers how Max made sure she had the best doctors and best care. He even sent a big bunch of different colored carnations every day—it was the only flower he ever sent—and brought her a feathered bed jacket to cheer her up. It hadn’t cheered her up much, not then, but she never forgot what Max did.

  I held his cap in my hands as they lowered Max into the ground. He didn’t have anything to say that day, but I knew what I had to do.

  * * * *

  The video recorder deal went off as planned. Even better really, ’cause it seemed none of the guys expected me to bid, much less win. Maybe they’d thought I be in mourning or that I was just Max’s lackey—running errands, getting coffee, picking up his girl friends. But they forgot I was also his friend. And Max always did look out for his own.

  After that things pretty much settled down and we were back to business as usual. Sitting around, drinking and dealing—cards that is—waiting to hear what was going to hit the streets next. In good times, a truck a week could lose its load to the streets. When it was slow, a few weeks would go by in between contracts.

  It was slow, which left us lot of time to sit around and kill. Hank and the guys that hung around him started to talk about taking over. That was okay because the guys that hung around me talked about the same thing.

  I had Pete and Mike on my side, and I felt pretty good about that. Pete was one of the older guys who’d been a close second to Max. Now Pete got the idea that I really was the one behind all of Max’s winning bids and it didn’t hurt my reputation to let him keep talking that way. Mike was young and new to the club, but he was as tough as they came. He was also pretty close mouthed, which I liked. It cut down the competition to get a word in edgewise.

  Hank had always been followed like glue by Dave and Sam and they seemed to stick even closer to him now that he was talking about being number one. Dave and Sam were brothers who, in my opinion, didn’t share one brain between them. Unfortunately, they had enough brawn for an entire defensive line.

  * * * *

  Everything was holding its own until Sugar Joe showed up at the club and sat down at Hank’s table.

  Sugar Joe looked a lot older now than he did five years ago. His retirement had set deep lines in his face and curved his back so that now he walked with a cane. That cane was mean looking. The hand grip was the head of a dog with it’s carved teeth bared and the whole thing seemed pretty hefty for a frail old guy to use. What really got to me were the side looks that Joe kept slipping my table. His eyes were the only part of him that hadn’t aged. They were as bright and sharp as ever and maybe just as filled with hate.

  Pete and Mike didn’t seem bothered by the looks but I was the only one sitting with a view to catch them all. Plus they hadn’t seen the hate in Joe’s eyes from behind the barrel of a gun—one that was pointed at them. Mike sat in my old seat and Pete picked the one to my left to christen as his. You know where I sat. It was the only chair in a corner with a view of the entire room.

  Using his cane, Sugar Joe shuffled over to stand by our table. The club was pretty full and the one thing I figured was there wouldn’t be any trouble.

  “I haven’t forgotten you,” Joe said as he wagged his finger at me. “Your big mouth saved Max’s butt that day but now you gotta worry about who’s going to save yours.”

  “From what, Joe?” I calmly responded. I couldn’t believe this old geezer was really threatening me in front of the entire club but, despite my coolness, my knees were threatening to act like castanets. It doesn’t take much strength to pull a trigger.

  His wheezy laugh silenced the club room.

  “Not from me, that’s for sure.” Before I could act the wise guy and agree with him, Joe continued.

  “You think you’re sitting on top now, but wait. One deal you’ve made, that’s it. That’s all you had and that’s all you’re going to get. Max’s last words probably were telling you how to handle the deal, but he ain’t around and you haven’t got the smarts to figure it out.”

  Pete jumped up, pushing his chair back so that it fell over with a loud crash. “Hey, old man, you haven’t been around in a long time. What do you know. It’s Charley here that’s been the brains for some time now, or didn’t you know?”

  Guys were slipping out of the club room pretty quick. Not like the old days when the smell of trouble would be bringing them in from the streets instead of sending them out.

  Joe’s cackle laugh started again. “This pup, the brains? Yeah, and I’m the tooth fairy.”

  His crack reminded me that I hadn’t heard from Max since before his funeral. As I reached up to touch the cap, Joe’s eyes followed my movements. His weird laugh again filled the now almost empty room.

  “You think the world revolves around this club house. Well, I haven’t been here in years
and my world’s grown pretty big.” I figured Joe was acting a little off the wall, but he kept right on ranting, getting himself more and more worked up.

  “There are lot of other deals going down in town, deals you know nothing about. Your little part, the part the boys let you have, is all you know. I’ve been out there,” Joe said and waved his nasty looking cane in the general direction of the men’s room, “and let me tell you, you young punk, you ain’t been nowhere.”

  To be honest, Sugar Joe left me speechless. Me. I didn’t know what he was talking about. Pete saved the day for me by hooting a laugh at Sugar Joe and announcing “it’s all a crock” to the room at large. Then Pete pulled out a deck of cards and passed them to me to cut. Sugar Joe looked as us for awhile with a twisted little grin on his face but finally he hobbled away to sit down with Hank, Dave, and Sam.

  The four of them sat with their heads together, whispering up a storm. Every once in awhile I caught Joe slipping me that look but I was holding winning cards and didn’t pay much attention. We played until late and locked up as we left. Everyone else had long gone.

  * * * *

  Hitting the street I breathed in the fresh cool air trying to clear out some of the stale cigar smoke I’d been inhaling for hours. My car was a block away and, slipping my cap forward—I knew it looked sharp like that—I sauntered down the block to the Caddy. Yeah, I got the car. Max’s daughter was glad to have the two grand I made on the deal plus I threw in some of the other stuff that Max didn’t tell me exactly what to do with.

  The sleek lines of the jet black coach waited for me on the corner. I still couldn’t believe it was all mine. Carefully opening the door, so as not to scratch the perfect finish, the new leather luxury perfume greeted me like a kiss. I slid into the soft bucket seat and quietly sat, enjoying the moment.

  I hadn’t heard from Max in two weeks now but, until tonight, I’d been too busy wheeling and dealing to give it much thought. Sugar Joe’s mentioning the tooth fairy had reminded me of Max. There’d been something else he said, too, but I couldn’t quite pin it down.

  The streets were deserted and the locked Caddy gave me a feeling of peace and security. Adjusting the cap on my head, I screwed my eyes tightly closed and thought as hard as I could about Max. I must have sat there for a half an hour, trying over and over again, but nothing happened.

  Feeling weary and knowing that I should have been between the sheets hours ago, I reached for the keys to start the car. Keeping quiet for as long as I had was tiring. “Max,” I said out loud, I guess you ain’t coming back any more. I’m going to miss you, old pal.” Unfortunately, I wasn’t wearing the ear plugs. The yell almost knocked the Caddy’s keys out of my hands.

  “You creep! All you could send for my funeral was a lousy bunch of some weird flower. They were deader than me! Why couldn’t you send something classy, like carnations.”

  “Max, I’m sorry,” I almost sobbed, both out of relief that Max was still there and from fear that he was upset. “I was broke and Ned the florist wouldn’t give me credit. They were nice flowers. They were mums. Ned said you liked them.”

  A few minutes silence passed and I got nervous again. Maybe Max was mad at me and had finally left me for good.

  “Ahh, forget the flowers. They were okay. I was just looking forward to some nice carnations, maybe purple ones. Always wanted to have purple carnations at my funeral. Classy, you know.”

  Breathing a sigh of relief that Max seemed appeased, I jiggled the car keys in my hand wondering whether or not to start up the car. Did Max notice I was driving his Caddy? Could he see? Or just talk to me? I’d never thought it all the way through and now I worried a bit that he might not like my having the car.

  “I see you got the Caddy, Charley,” the voice said pleasantly. Now I wondered if he could read minds. Not that I had anything to hide from Max, I just wasn’t sure I liked the idea of someone knowing what I was thinking. “I guess you took care of the kid,” he continued, and that put me at ease—knowing that he didn’t actually know.

  “I gave her the take from the contract, Max, plus the silver stuff and the sound system. She said she’d rather keep the wagon.”

  “I’m not surprised. It’s like that Gucci bag she carries, the thing that looks like a satchel. It must hold half her medicine cabinet. You can’t get her to part with it. But everything turned out okay.”

  “She was real happy with the money and the silver, Max. I had to make her take the sound system, I mean, I just didn’t feel right,” my voice trailed of, “uhh, is that what you mean, Max?”

  “I meant with the contract,” he sounded like he was losing his patience. “You had the two grand so it must have gone good.”

  “Yeah, just like you said, Max.”

  “Why didn’t you bid on the next contract, the one for all that fancy kitchen stuff?”

  I didn’t have an answer I knew he would buy, so I tried to think real fast. The real reason was that I didn’t know what to bid so I told the guys I wanted to take it easy for awhile. I didn’t want to tell Max that, so I finally said, “Oh, that fancy kitchen stuff. Well, I didn’t think there was much of a market for it. I mean, no one I know uses a cuissy-whatis. Even Dotty didn’t want one.”

  “Yeah, Charley, I should have known that would be a bit much to ask. What about the contract coming up—what are you going to bid?”

  “Uhh, what contract?” If Max couldn’t read minds, how come he always knew what was going on?

  The roar really hurt my ears. I reminded myself to take the ear plugs from my night table and have them handy for Max’s next chat.

  “Don’t you keep track of anything? There’s a load of game computers that just fell off a truck in New Jersey. They should be here in a day or two. What are you going to bid?”

  Game computers, I thought to myself. What do I do with game computers? I’d no idea what they sold for—hot or cold.

  “Uhh, Max, what do you think I should do?” I asked this with just the right note, I hoped, of confidence. You know, like I really knew what to do but was just checking. I don’t think it worked.

  “I should have known you couldn’t move without me,” he sighed, “even though you got the boys to say you’ve been working my contracts for years. I should have known.”

  This surprised me. Of course Max knew I didn’t move without him.

  “Max, things just don’t change overnight. I mean, if you help out a few times then maybe I’ll be able to go it on my own. I’m just not used to working without you, that’s all.”

  “Okay, Charley, I’ll help you out this time. The game computers are mostly Commodore’s, cold price of about $200. You can move them out pretty easy at one and a quarter.” He sighed again. “Maybe you’d better not try points and stuff just yet, just go for an up front dollar.”

  “How about I bid seventy-five each, Max. That sounds pretty good.”

  “It’s going to sound good to all the other guys bidding the same price. You’ve got to be different. Hank’ll probably come in with seventy-five plus points. Go high, kid. For now at least it’ll get you the contract.”

  “How high, Max?”

  I took the silence that followed to be Max thinking of a good price. It wasn’t. He was upset with me, again.

  “As high as you want, just get the contract,” he said and while it wasn’t quite loud enough to hurt I began to worry about someone passing by, overhearing. I could always say I was a ventriloquist. Maybe I should keep a dummy in the car. I was about to share this thought with Max when I realized what his comment would be so I kept it to myself.

  There was welcome quiet for awhile before he softly continued. “Try eighty-five, Charley, try eighty-five.”

  I decided not to ask Max about the up front money, hoping that the deal I worked last time for half the goods up f
ront could be repeated. Instead, I got curious again.

  “Max, uhh, how is it where, well, where you are?”

  You could hear the merriment in his voice. “It’s just fine, Charley, just fine. Lot’s of long leggy blondes.”

  Wherever he was sounded pretty good to me, although I wasn’t in any big hurry to join him. I figured it was time to grab some shut eye so, wishing Max a good night, I headed home.

  * * * *

  The bid turned out just like he said. Three of the loners from the club teamed up to bid eighty, half the goods on credit, and Hank came in at seventy-five plus points. Hank would have gotten it, except for my bid at eighty-five. I got the advance credit and when when the middle man, Sid, shook my hand on the deal, Hank glowered. Sugar Joe didn’t look to happy either, but he had a strange twist to his mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down to losing the contract.

  The first half of the load went like hot-cakes. It seems that the kids at home were clamoring to play these weird knights-in-shining-armor games and had been begging and bugging their folks to distraction. They practically lined up on the street. The first hundred sets moved out in less than a week.

  I turned the eight grand over to Sid for the other half load. A hundred more sets and, as far as I was concerned, all paid for. All the money that came in now was mine, less overhead of course. Pete and Mike had to be taken care of, the way Max used to take care of me, but I figured I’d clear four kay.

  My garage had been seeing a lot of traffic the past week, which the neighbors might have thought was odd if they hadn’t been part of the overhead. Max had taught me well. A couple of c-notes closes a lot of eyes.

  Pete had just picked up three sets and secured them in the trunk of my old LTD. He’d had his eye on the LTD for awhile, and it was his cut for helping me move the video stuff. He’d turned his Pinto over to Mike. The three of us were all driving new wheels.