by Peter Rabe
Alverato gave him a look, seeing Benny for the first time.
“You’re sending me packing? You paid me off for a job and that’s it?” Benny’s voice didn’t get louder, but it had turned insistent and hard.
Alverato stopped sucking his smoke. “Something eating you kid? Ten grand isn’t enough, maybe?”
“Sure. It’s bigger than-”
“So what’s your beef?” Alverato wasn’t laughing any more.
Benny clamped his teeth on his lip and kept still. He was out on his ear and there was no bucking Big Al. Not now, anyway. Let the big ape find out for himself. Benny could wait. For once he would wait his turn, because there was one more ace in the hole that nobody knew about but him. And Pat.
“No beef, Al. Just trying to help.”
“When I need help, I’ll let you know, O.K.? When Big Al needs your help-”
“I’ll be around,” Benny said. “I’ll let you know where to find me.” He got up, not waiting for Alverato to answer, and sat in the back with Pat.
For the rest of the trip he didn’t talk. Alverato played cards with Birdie, while Pat lay in a fitful sleep, her thin body curled on the seat. Benny sat watching. She’d lost too much weight, she wasn’t well. He wondered for a moment how she’d come out of it all. She’d served her purpose, or almost, now, and it wouldn’t be long before she’d be out of the picture. For a moment he thought of her as the girl he had never got to know, never bothered to know; then he stopped there. A little later he gave her one more jolt in a glass of the raw whisky he’d bought. He hoped it would make her feel better.
After they landed, she left the field on Alverato’s arm. It was a gray, rainy day and she said she loved a gray day. She was hopped up again and didn’t even miss him.
Benny watched them leave across the flat runway, shiny with rain. Birdie was carrying a suitcase. Then Benny left the plane. Just a while back he had thought it was going to be different. He had thought about leaving the plane and feeling different. Not so tense any longer, not waiting so hard any more.
He turned up his collar and walked away. It hadn’t worked. He was going to wait again.
Chapter Twenty-One
Pendleton sat in his gold-and-black room with the view of the city. It was mostly gray mist now, but Pendleton had not been watching the city. The large plate glass was dotted with fat little drops and every so often they gathered body and shot down the smooth surface in quick little streams. Pendleton was watching that. He sat in the large gold-and-black room and his hands made a dry sound when he rubbed his palms together.
It was an aimless sitting. Pendleton rarely was aimless. The man Turk opened a door and Pendleton turned with a sharp movement. “What is it this time?”
“The phone again, Mr. Pendleton.”
“Louisiana?”
“No, Mr. Pendleton. It’s Alverato.”
Pendleton got up. Except for the lines down the side of his mouth, he looked as controlled as ever. “Tell him again. I am not interested.”
“Mr. Pendleton, he wants to know if you’re interested in hearing about your daughter.”
Pendleton didn’t turn; only his back stiffened.
He walked to the phone then, making precise little circles around the furniture.
“This is Pendleton,” he said into the phone. “You have my daughter?”
“You want to come over and talk business?”
“Of course, Alverato. When?”
“Two at my place. In the country.” And Alverato hung up.
Pendleton’s car reached the estate at three minutes before two. Turk was driving and Pendleton sat in the back, shades drawn, and his dry hands worked on the head of his cane in small spasms. A hidden device swung the large gates open and the car entered. Then the gate clicked shut again.
The big car had hardly moved around the first bend of the drive when they were stopped again, this time by a wide-shouldered guy who carried a Tommy gun. He stood in the middle of the road and raised his arm. When Pendleton snapped the shades of his windows up, he saw two more men coming out of the woods from the left, two from the right, and one from behind. They all carried Tommy guns.
The car had slowed, but apparently not enough. With an unexpected burst one of the guns ripped loose. The car jerked a few times and came to a bumpy stop with one front wheel ripped into shreds. When they opened the doors they waved at a pale and confused Pendleton, who stumbled from his seat, speechless. He stood in a circle of Tommy guns and then his pallid face turned dark. “The effrontery-” He was hoarse.
“Sorry, Mr. Pendleton. One of the boys got nervous.”
The man who had spoken followed him all the way to the house keeping the Tommy gun trained on his back. At the door, Birdie met them both and took Pendleton straight to Alverato.
The room was long. A narrow carpet led past an empty fireplace, a library table, the kind of urn that usually stands in a garden, and up to a massive desk. Alverato was sitting there and he watched Pendleton come the whole length of the room. There was no second chair by the desk.
“Hi, Pendy. Was that your car had a blowout?”
While Alverato laughed, Pendleton found his voice. It shook at first and sounded cracked, but then it was as cold as ever.
“You called concerning my daughter. I am here now-”
“Fine, Pendy, fine. You want a cigar?”
“Alverato. Will you come to the point of this visit? I have tolerated your idiot’s pranks only-”
“Pranks?” Alverato leaned back with a broad grin. “What pranks, Pendy?”
“That scene from a gangster movie outside.”
Alverato laughed for a minute, but then he leaned forward, his eyes mean. “It wasn’t so funny, was it, Pendleton? It kinda shook you up and brought you in line, didn’t it? Outdated methods, huh? But they work, don’t they, Pendleton?”
Pendleton’s mouth twitched, but then he got it under control. “I am still assuming you have my daughter. Let’s cut the horseplay and talk about that.”
“All right.” Alverato slapped his hand on the desk. “Let’s get to it. I got what you want, you got what I want. We trade.”
“You have what, Alverato?”
Alverato reached into a drawer and drew out some photos. “Your daughter,” he said.
The first one showed Pat at a table, frowning into the camera. Then there was one of Pat in bed, sleeping. The last one had her lying on a couch with a newspaper in her hand.
“Well, Pendleton?”
“Where is she?”
“Don’t be an ass.”
Pendleton stiffened. “This proves nothing. The photos could have been taken months ago.”
“Look, Wrinkles, I’m better than that. Take a look at the newspaper she’s holding and then try arguing with me.” He gave Pendleton a magnifying glass. “Look at it, Pendleton.” The date on the paper was one day ago. “Pendleton, you’re hooked.”
In the silence that followed, neither of them moved. “What do you want, Alverato?”
“Now you’re talking.” Alverato jumped up from the desk and came around to Pendleton’s side. “Seeing how you love your daughter, I want the works. I want the contact in Italy, the delivery route, the works.”
“I refuse.” Pendleton said it blindly.
“You know, Pendy, that kid of yours has a lot of life left in her.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Just try me. Just try me, Wrinkles, and tonight I’ll send her back to you in a sack.”
Pendleton bared his long teeth for a moment and sucked the air into his lungs. When he exhaled he looked shrunken. “Very well. When do I get my daughter?”
“How do you want her?”
“For heaven’s sake, Alverato-”
“You want her alive, she’ll be delivered after we get confirmation of the order we’re going to place.”
Pendleton stared at the wall, his face a mask. “Very well. We can hear from the contact tonight.”
“That’s not al
l I want, Pendleton. I want the works, how it’s done-”
“One moment.” Pendleton turned his head slowly. “You don’t understand. You cannot do it alone. The contact is in Italy, but the method of entry is arranged here. Even if I told you all the details of the operation, it would do you no good. It is my presence that counts at this end.”
“Why?”
“That’s the way it’s organized. Personal arrangements are delicate things, Alverato, especially when the risk is large. The arrangements-”
“So we rearrange. I’ll put a man on it and you show him the ropes. You show him every step of the way. That’s part of the deal.”
“I agreed to give you the name of the Italian contact, Alverato. There was no mention of anything else.”
“There is now, Pendleton. That understood?”
Pendleton shrugged. His hand was tracing back and forth over the top of the desk, but he didn’t say anything.
“All right, now let’s get the details. How do I order the heroin?”
“May I have a chair?”
Alverato went to the other end of the room, brought back a chair, and they sat down at the desk. Pendleton wrote it down as he talked. “The contact’s name is Lippi. Signor Alfredo Lippi, Box Ninety-four, Positano, Italy. You write to him over the signature of Alfred B. Kent, President, Imports, Inc., New York. Write anything at all, but dealing with your recent visit to Rome and when might he return it. Now, the important thing is to mention a number. For instance, the fifth of June would be fine for a visit, or your daughter has two new teeth, or you realize four thousand miles is a long trip, etc. The first digit of any such number is the amount in kilos of heroin you’re ordering. Make it innocuous.”
“What?”
“Innocuous. By return mail-or cable, if you have cabled-you will receive a message containing the clue to the time and place of the pickup. If the cable is sent on an odd day, the pickup will be ready two weeks from the day. If it is even, there is a delay until further notice.
“The time of cabling is important. Here is a list of Italian cities, all numbered from one to ten. If the cable is sent at two, either A.M. or P.M., the pickup city is number two-Genoa, as it happens. One more thing. Your cable must always be sent on an even hour in the afternoon. That is the entire procedure.”
At four o’clock that afternoon they sent a cable to Positano, mentioning among other things that the 824 pairs of sandals had arrived intact and that Mr. Alfred B. Kent hoped to be able to place an additional order in the near future.
Then they waited. Pendleton’s face remained blank and he stared out of the window most of the time. Alverato smoked a few cigars, ate a meal, and once he placed a call to an apartment in Queens. The man that answered said the girl was all right now. She had been rough for a while, but then they had called Dr. Welch, who had given her a green capsule. She was asleep.
At eleven that night, Imports, Inc. received a cablegram dated the ninth and stating that Signor Lippi confirmed receipt of cablegram and would be happy to handle any additional orders. Time of message was nine.
Eight kilos of heroin would be ready for pickup in Naples two weeks from the date.
When they got to the apartment in Queens, Pat watched them come in without enthusiasm. She gave her father a dull greeting. Nor was Pendleton demonstrative. He took her home, saw her fall asleep, and locked himself in his study.
He made two phone calls. He called the Medaglia d’Oro and reached Signor Lippi in his room. They arranged that the present order should be honored, but that further orders were to be ignored unless signed by “Alfred” instead of “Alfred B. Kent.” And they changed the numbers of the Italian cities to run from three to twelve in scrambled order. Pendleton wrote out the new list of cities and put the slip of paper in his vest pocket while he said good-by to Signor Lippi.
Chapter Twenty-Two
He had bought a new hat. It lay there on the chair, in the shadow, while he stared at the floor between his feet The rumpled bed made a noise when he moved, but he didn’t move much. He sat quite still and every minute was a long wait.
Sometimes he felt as if none of this were real, as if he were no longer himself, standing still and waiting for the next move to come. It had been different with Pat He had waited, but there was always the effort to make time pass, to make it pay in the end. And then there had been Pendleton back in his mind, but the hate had paid off and was gone. And Pat was gone.
How was Alverato managing? She was sick and nobody knew how to help her.
He didn’t like to think about it. He started to pace. With a sudden gesture he picked up his hat. He put it on his head the way he always did and left the room.
But the walk didn’t help. It came to him that he didn’t like to be alone any more, and he didn’t like loose ends. That Alverato deal was a loose end. Pat was a loose end. Given half a chance with that syndicate business, he could really show Alverato that he was worth his salt Given half a chance with Pat, even less than that…
He walked back to his room, listening to the hard click of his shoes on the dark street Once he took his hat off and creased the crown. He didn’t have it on yet the way he wanted when a voice said:
“You. Benny Tapkow. Hey!” The car had rolled up silently, lights dim. “It’s about the Pendleton dame,” said the voice when Benny made a quick move away from the car.
He came closer, cautiously, and saw that it was Birdie, hunched over the side window, beckoning him to come nearer.
“Tapkow. Alverato wants to see you. All hell’s busted wide. We got a call from Pendleton. Laughing his sides out because now that he’s got his kid back, he’s pulling a double-cross. He’s changed the contact or the code or somethin’ and Big Al is out in the cold again. Alverato like to split a gut!
“Then we get a call from the Rosemanor, the hotel downtown? The manager’s a friend of Big Al and he says there’s a Miss Pendleton checked in tonight and she’s raising the roof. She’s out of her head and yelling at the operator that she wants to call a Mr. Alverato, or else a Mr. Benny Tapkow, and she won’t quiet down. Seems like she ran out on her ever loving daddy.”
Benny felt it coming. It was there again, the big chance. It was there again and it was Pat again. “Where is she now?”
“Big Al’s got her. He sent a couple of the boys. She’s a wacky one, that dame, keeps cussing her old man and calling for Saint Anthony, or somebody. Big Al told me to look for you and see if I could get you to-”
“Let’s get going,” Benny said, and jumped into the car. It was starting again and this time he was going to hang on all the way home.
“Feeling better, Benny?” Alverato slapped him on the back. Benny winced. “Christ, I’m sorry, kid. Have another drink?”
“Yeah, thanks.”
“Here. Well, you ready to see that girl? I’m telling you, the time we had with her, yelling, scratching-”
“Let me sit a minute.”
Alverato stopped trying to make conversation. He sat chewing his cigar. When Benny had finished his drink, he turned in his chair and looked at Alverato.
“How come you got generous all of a sudden, Al?”
“What? How do you mean?”
“Giving me the brush on the plane, now bringing me back here.”
“Like I said, she keeps asking for you. She was real trouble there for a while.”
“Am I back in?”
Alverato frowned, narrowing his eyes. “Do I pay you? Sure, Benny. You keep her steady for me, keep her calm for the time she’s here, and-”
Benny got up. “No deal.”
It took Alverato a second or two and then he got up too. “What do you want, for chrissakes, a pension maybe? Because I got a little problem with Miss Hysteria over there, I gotta take you on and listen to your lip? Look, Tapkow, I don’t put no punks on the payroll just to keep a dame quiet for a while. If you don’t want the favor, I can stand her screaming around here a couple or so days longer.”
B
enny was tapping a cigarette on his thumb, watching Alverato perform. Then he lit the cigarette and blew smoke. “Suit yourself. I want on the payroll because I got things to sell. Handling the girl for you is only part of it.”
“You got something to sell? Why, you swell-headed-”
“Why don’t you listen, Al? Take this, for instance: right now you’re not through with Pendleton. He’s a snake in the grass and a problem. I know the bastard. I know how he works. You don’t.”
Alverato threw his cigar in the fireplace and came close. “Tapkow, first of all, I don’t like your manners. You’re getting uppity with me. Second, I don’t worry about Pendleton as long as I got that crazy daughter of his. So blow, before I lose my temper.”
But Benny had it all laid out in his mind. Big Al and his puffy temper didn’t impress him any more and Benny had something to sell.
“Take this, Al: you’re getting your shipment, the first one, and that’s all, right?”
“I-How did you know?”
“Pendleton changed the code, right?”
“So? Now I got his daughter, there’s nothing to keep me from giving him the squeeze, is there?”
“Sure. You just keep squeezing. So you’ll get another shipment. How do you know he won’t cross you again? How long do you think he’s going to feed you info and not raise heaven and hell to get his daughter in the meantime? You got to admit it, Al, you can use a man who knows Pendleton. Sure you can go it alone. You’ve done it before. But this is easier, faster. You can use me.”
Alverato got the point. Benny could tell. Big Al wasn’t so big any more; not so big as he had been twenty years ago, when he got the name.
“About that cable, Al. Do you know what he changed? Did he change the whole code, make it more complicated? I’ll give you my guess, Al. He changed the name, the signature, that’s all. That’s what Pendleton would do, a little thing like that. It hardly shows, but it makes the difference. I know Pendleton, and you don’t.”
“Sounds good, Tapkow, but anybody can guess.”
“Another thing, Al. Pendleton has a whole setup for getting the H into the country. I know that, you know that. So I bet you another thing,” and now Benny was guessing. “He hasn’t given you that setup, has he, Al?”
