That Old Gang Of Mine

by Leslie Thomas

  He nodded ponderously, still considering the coloured birds. 'Maybe God will strike me dead on our wedding night,' he forecast gloomily. 'Dead like stone - and then you'll have my share to worry about as well. Twenty thousand bucks on your conscience, Katy. I couldn't leave you with that sort of legacy.'

  'I wouldn't want it,' she sighed. 'Gee, I want to get married, Lou. More than anybody knows. But it's not the way to finance it I want us to save up what we get legally. We could save enough in a year. We don't need much.'

  Lou shrugged in agreement. 'A year now ain't going to make

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  any difference, honey,' he said, apparently addressing a huge turquoise and yellow bird which was leaning forward, intent on every word. 'We're not going to get any older in a year.'

  'That's right!' exclaimed the bird. 'That's right! That's right, buddy! That's right!' He rocked to and fro with the excitement of what he had said and let loose a huge screech to emphasize the point. Katy laughed and Lou nodded his head in slow wisdom.

  'He seems to agree,' said Katy, squeezing Lou's arm. They had finished the ice cream and now they went, her delicate hand in his big paw, towards the exit to the park where their excursion bus was waiting. Other people were going the same way. Katy bent her head against Lou's shoulder. 'It's not that I don't enjoy doing it, baby,' she said. A young couple walking the same way and two feet from them both turned and registered surprise. I love every second of it,' continued Katy, oblivious of the attention she was getting. 'It's the most exciting thing ever. But it's the consequences. When I open the box and see all those little faces looking at me ... so accusingly.'

  The young couple swallowed jointly and hurried ahead. 'Jesus, what d'you know,' breathed the boy. 'And we're supposed to be the kookie generation.'

  Molly Mandy, her best hat on her head and determination in her elderly heart, left the front door of the Sunny Gables Hotel and headed for the post office on Washington Avenue. She was carrying a supermarket shopping bag and in the bag, parcelled with the utmost care, was a package containing ten thousand dollars. It was addressed to the manager of the United States National Trust Bank on Broward Boulevard, Miami, and one contained a note which said:

  Dear Manager,

  I am sending this money back to you because I can't sleep for it. It's more than I have ever seen in my life before but I was brought up not to steal, even from those who have plenty, and so I am sending it back to you with my compliments. This is only my share of the money taken from your bank in the raid but J am sure you will be glad to see it back safely. Yours faithfully, A Robber

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  Her heart banged like a gong all the way along Washington Avenue. She was sure she would meet some other member of the Ocean Drive Delinquent Society and her guilt would show. But the street was much as it always was, hot on one side, shaded on the other. The hot side was very hot, for it was afternoon and the sun was striking along its whole length, but she braved the discomfort in exchange for fewer people. She reached the post office and went in gratefully. The clerk took the parcel and weighed it. His eyebrows went up. 'That packet is going to cost a packet, lady,' he said.

  'It's worth it, mister,' she said mysteriously. 'Every cent.'

  Five minutes later she came out of the building feeling years younger and pounds lighter. She chose the shaded side of the street and walked like a girl in springtime, swinging her hips, a smile gracing her face and her hat at a jaunty angle. She said 'Hi!' and -Good afternoon,' and 'Great to see you,' to people she did not even know.

  One person she did not see had watched her walk to the post office and had followed in her wake, had sat on a seat opposite while she deposited the parcel, and had observed her lighthearted exit from the building and her sunny progress down the street once more.

  It was Zaharran. He was smiling a knowing smile.

  The riverboat Florida King left Fort Lauderdale every afternoon at two for a cruise along the green-banked miles of the inland waterways." It was built like the Mississippi paddle steamers of older days, with many decks, brightly painted bows and superstructure. It carried three hundred passengers seated in rows along the decks one above the other. As it made its two hour voyage it looked, from the banks, like a giant sandwich, with the tourists as the filling.

  It was a popular excursion because what the area lacked in geographical variety and history it made up for in opulence. Immediately the steamer left Fort Lauderdale pier and headed for the creeks and canals it voyaged on tranquil green water cushioned by the lawns and trees and glaring white houses of the very rich indeed.

  The tourists, fortunate enough to be able to visit this last leg

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  of the United States when it was winter elsewhere in the land, gazed with a mixture of interest and envy as the homes of the wealthy slid by. Sometimes a person was to be seen in a deck chair on a lawn, the ship's guide would announce his or her household name over the loudspeaker and the entire three hundred trippers would wave and call.

  Sometimes the household name would wave wearily back and the tourists could then go home to Wisconsin and Ohio and say they had exchanged greetings with a multi-millionaire.

  Overhanging the water were willows and palms, hibiscus and brilliant tulip trees, giving it a hybrid aspect, part temperate, part tropical. Each pure white house had a landing stage or a boat dock and the slender and luxurious craft, tethered like pets, moved, idle and rich, in the wash of the large riverboat.

  'On your left, folks - look left, not right, sir - just below that big, beautiful tree, the one that touches the water, is the lovely home of George C. Peckin, President of the United Whisky Importers and a dozen other corporations. That house - believe it or not - is called Scotch Corner.' The guide had recited it a hundred times over the microphone but he tried to sound lively.

  An appreciative titter drifted over the packed rows on the paddle-steamer, but too many were staring at the shaded luxury being indicated to appreciate the joke. Ossie, Gabby, Bruce and Sidewalk sat on one row. K-K-K-Katy, Lou the Barbender, Ari and Molly, and Zaharran sat in the row behind. Their heads, like the rest of the two hundred and ninety heads on the vessel, moved obediently from one side of the waterway to the other, as if following some slow and travelling tennis game.

  'These wonderful homes have been built by famous industrialists and politicians and some by film stars. Not all the stars are in California, folks. The house coming up on the left is the home of Miss Tottie di Milo ... that house just on the strip of land projecting into the waterway, with the luxury cabin cruiser moored there. I wonder who can be visiting today ... ?'

  The mansion was still a hundred yards ahead but many of the eager sightseers could not wait so they stood and leaned this way and that trying to get a view around the screening

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  trees and perhaps catch a glimpse of the famous movie star and her visitors.

  'You remember the movie Where the Boys Are, folks?' A chorus of vague assent came from the sandwiched decks. 'Well that was one movie made right here in Fort Lauderdale. And the boys are still here, and the girls I'm glad to say ...'

  The ponderous showboat had now drawn abreast of the house of Tottie di Milo. As it eased along the waterway, it cleared the trees and the dazzling white home unrolled before the thrilled eyes of the tourists. 'Wow, what a shack, ladies and gentlemen,' enthused the guide who said it twice a day. 'A lovely home. Miss Tottie is resting after making a movie. And when you're a big girl like Tottie di Milo you sure need your rest!'

  The tourists sniggered dutifully. The guide continued to shout. 'Next week she is throwing a great big bonanza party for all the society people and the show people who happen to be in Florida right now. I sure would like to get a pass to that, wouldn't you? What a bullfight that is going to be!'

  An envious buzz of assent rose from the decks. 'One thing that's truly unique about the house,' went on the man indestructibly. 'It has a river - yes, people, you heard right, a real, wet river -
running right through the salon. It empties into the waterway just by the boat dock. There's not too many houses, even in wonderful Florida, that have a genuine one hundred per cent river going through them.'

  The chorus of amazement at the news was overcome by an even louder emission as the people spotted a bikini-clad figure issuing from the widespread reflecting doors of the house. The glass flashed in the sunlight as she came out. Right on cue. 'And my goodness, are we in luck!' the commentator gabbled. 'Wow! It's Miss Tottie di Milo herself!'

  There was such a rush to the left hand side of the ship it seemed to wallow and list that way. 'Steady, steady,' came the warning. 'Don't capsize the boat. It's all we have.'

  'I'll capsize it if that broad rescues me,' said Ari the Greek ruminatively. Zaharran sniffed heavily and moved to the other side of the boat as if hoping that his weight would counterbalance the list.

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  'Miss Tottie has come out to say hello,' announced the commentator excitedly. 'Give her a wave, folks. Show her we love her!'

  There was multiple waving and the riverboat lurched sluggishly. The goddess, posed and poised on the bank, waved a bandana and flashed her famous teeth in the sun. She was joined by two obediently playful dogs and then by a long, loping figure in shorts wearing a hawser of gold chain around his neck.

  'Gee and look who's here!' bellowed the commentator. 'None other than Herb Specter, folks. I guess you've all seen the movie Skin and Skin. Mr Specter was the star of that movie.'

  Excitement aboard the Florida King was reaching the proportions of a mutiny. Molly and K-K-K-Katy urgently joined the mass hoping to see Herb Specter, Molly standing unceremoniously on Ossie's lap to do so. He struggled painfully but patiently.

  'Only this morning, folks, I read that Herb had left his wife back in Hollywood, California, and was entering a new romance. Well now we know who it is don't we? We have it exclusive !'

  A huge chorus of satisfaction and acclaim rose from the crammed tourists. They waved with renewed fury and Tottie and Herb waved back with dignified movements, like royalty, from the lawns that sloped to the water. Eventually the boat eased itself further away and reluctantly and raggedly the people sat down. The hull righted itself.

  'Could you ask the captain if we could get real close on the way back?' a lady called to the guide. 'I'd sure like to take a picture.'

  The commentator smiled grimly. He said below his breath, 'We'll beach the fucking ship and you can get an autograph.' He waved to her, indicating that they would do their best.

  Molly sat down again, perspiring with the efforts she had made to gain a vantage point. 'It's just great to see the greats, isn't it just?' she said to her granddaughter. Gabby rolled her eyes and patted her grandmother's hand.

  Zaharran, still on the far side of the deck, was confronted

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  by a big, flowered lady who demanded the restoration of her seat. 'I was just keeping the boat upright,' he grunted and lumbered back to the opposite rail. He looked down at Ossie and Ossie saw an expression in his bulbous eye. The big man leaned over the rail and consulted the water as if he were sounding the fathoms. Ossie got up and stood beside him.

  'You found what we came for?' asked Ossie quietly.

  'Ah,' said Zaharran lazily. 'I was just thinking what a great coincidence it is that the lady over there ... in the house ... with the boobs and the ape ...'

  Tottie di Milo,' said Ossie. 'What were the thoughts?'

  'Yeah, that's her. What a coincidence that she should be having a big, big party next week, with all the society and all the stars and suchlike, and there's us looking for another operation.'

  'How do we get in?' asked Ossie quietly. 'The place is bound to have security all around it. She's that sort of star;'

  'Well, she's got a living river running through the place,' sniffed Zaharran. He smiled through the sniff. 'That ain't too bad for a start.'

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  They sat in a silent, shadowy circle in Molly Mandy's room, the central light falling on the plan that Ossie had spread over the table. Already there was a suppressed excitement about them, the faces inching forward, alive with anticipation and interest. For the.Ocean Drive Delinquent Society there was no source of adrenalin like the plotting of another raid.

  'Obviously the river that goes through the salon of Old Creek House is not much more than a stream,' said Ossie pointing to the appropriate part of the plan. 'It is no Mississippi.'

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  An elderly audible smile came from those around. K-K-K-. Katy reached and found Lou's hand, Ari exchanged some sort of left-hand jabs with an invisible opponent, Zaharran sat like a pile of wet cement, small ripples of movement going over his large body, but his eyes steady and intent. Gabby looked at the composed Ossie and then at the youthful Bruce, his brown face like copper in the subdued light. Inwardly she shrugged.

  'The river,' Ossie went on, 'is in fact ten feet wide and four deep. But that's a constant depth. It's got a square concrete base even if it's been planted with various reeds and stuff like that. It runs almost down the centre of the main room and out through an arched tunnel into the waterway. That's the way we are going in.'

  He drew a small circle on the map with his fingers. 'Just here, almost at the back of the room, where the faucet feeds the water into the river there is a kind of round ornamental pool with fish and this is kept separate from the river itself by a removable metal grille. That grille we will use as a mooring for the boat. Okay?'

  Doubtfully Ossie looked around the circle. I take it you've all at least seen pictures of an Everglades fan-boat. Maybe you've seen a real one, or on television. It's a flat-bottomed skiff, designed for use in the swamps where there's no great depth of water and where there's a lot of Weed and other crud that would catch in the propellers of any other type of craft. It can be used in as little as five inches of water, so we should have depth to spare. It's propelled by a fan mounted on the stern, an outsized version of one of the desk fans you see in people's offices or homes.

  'We've had a long talk about this, Gabby and Bruce and myself, and we think that this fan-boat is just about right for our requirements. It's narrow enough to get through the tunnel from the river to the house and it has no draught to speak of so we'll have plenty of water below the hull. There's one disadvantage. At the most it will carry six people.' He glanced at the large Zaharran. 'Five if we take George,' he said. He smiled apologetically but Zaharran merely nodded ac-

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  knowledgement. 'We also need a look-out,' went on Ossie. 'And two people to have the getaway cars ready - in the right place at the right time.'

  He paused and then said: 'Personally I'm sorry about this because it's George's brainchild, but if he wouldn't mind ...'

  'Don't worry about me, son,' said Zaharran shaking his head in slow motion. 'I'll fix the cars. I'll be there when you get ashore.'

  'Great. Thanks. We need six for the operation, I think. Would Katy mind being the look-out? She's really good at that.'

  'I don't mind, dear,' said Katy. I can wh-wh-whistle.'

  Molly clasped her hands in front of her face with excitement. 'Oh good, goody, good,' she said. Then her face clouded. I made a mess of my mask,' she confessed. 'I was trying to drink coffee when I was wearing it. Just kinda practising, you understand. And you can't drink it like that. I'll have to send it to the valet service.'

  Gabby, among others, closed her eyes. I wouldn't do that, grandma,' she advised. 'They may get a little suspicious having a mask and a hood in at the valet service.'

  'You're darn right,' said Molly emphatically. 'I'm sure glad you mentioned it, dear. Okay, I'll get the coffee out myself.' She looked up benignly oblivious of the defeated looks she was getting. 'What's next?' she asked brightly.

  Ossie coughed. He said slowly: 'Yes, well, next ... You really won't take the mask to the valet service, will you, Molly ... ? No, good. Just try and remember. It might be like taking the guns to the pawn shop, if you understand w
hat I mean.'

  'Sure I see,' nodded Molly blandly. 'I'm not completely crazy.'

  'Good, good,' said Ossie. 'That's very reassuring. Now, there's the small matter of obtaining the fan-boat. Our good friend and colleague Sidewalk here knows where they keep the fan-boats at night and he and Ari are going to borrow one for a while.'

  'It's a yard where they renovate them,' said Sidewalk Joe.

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  'It ain't too difficult. And it ain't that far away either, so that will make it easier. I've always wanted to drive one of them things.'

  Ossie nodded at him. 'Fine. Now the details will be worked out between Gabby, Bruce and myself, as usual. Maybe George wouldn't mind remaining behind as well. His know-how was pretty useful last time.' George's head nodded. 'I guess that's all, ladies and gentlemen,' said Ossie. 'Don't talk about it, even among yourselves. You never know who's got ears that may be functioning even in South Miami.' He smiled at the joke, but they didn't smile back.

  Molly leaned over to Ari and said: 'What did he say?'

  'I don't know,' said Ari. 'I didn't hear.'

  'Wednesday,' said Ossie a little more loudly. 'Assemble here at nine. We plan to enter the house at ten-thirty and be out with the profits by ten-forty. Any further questions?'

  There were none. The old gang went out singly to their small rooms. Gabby, Ossie and Bruce said goodnight to each one. Zaharran moved towards the table. He was going to be in charge of the getaway cars. The perfect trap. Now he had them. If he wanted them.

  Tottie di Milo had experienced some little difficulty in getting together enough fun people for her party, because Fort Lauderdale at that time of the year was not the place where the fun people gathered. She was saved, however, by the surprising advent of Frankie Moon, the popular singer, who had come down from New York to give an in-person concert in Miami. He had with him various members of his travelling world, his dumb wife, his two dumb mistresses and his children by various alliances and marriages. His musicians were the famous Billy Bolon group and they had their various affiliates, and there were some supporting singers and a progressive comedian. She asked them all to her party and they all accepted, there not being a great deal of excitement in Miami out of season.