She sat with her back straight just to make sure her breasts were as far forward as she could naturally get them. His eyes followed down her face and stopped at her chest. Mary Lou explained how she’d been putting some money aside - not much you understand, but it all mounts up if you work hard - and now wanted somewhere safer than her mattress to store it. And also a friend had told she could get interest on it if she gave it to a bank to look after. But she had no idea about any of that sort of thing, you understand, so wanted to know what her options were.
“Let me take down a few particulars before I can help you, Miss…?” Carter let the question hang in the air, drawing Mary Lou into conversation.
“And are you married or single?”
“I’m single, but if I were to meet the right man...” This time Mary Lou trailed her sentence off and started to play with a complimentary pen attached to a piece of string on a heavy blue stand on Carter’s desk. She stroked the end of it with her thumb, licked her lips slowly at him and smiled.
He smiled back and carried on with his form-filling questions. Having built up a shallow but discernible picture of her personal and financial circumstances, Carter started going through the various potential investment opportunities open to Mary Lou. She stopped listening and started thinking about how she could progress things away from municipal bonds and onto something far more interesting to her.
“I’m sorry, but I find all this talk far too complicated for a simple girl like me. And it’s taken all my nerve to come in here today, to be honest. I don’t mind telling you because I trust you. You have an honest face, but do you think we could meet in the coffee shop over on Third Avenue because I’d be a lot more comfortable there? This place creeps me out a bit.” And with that, Mary Lou waved her hand around the bank and rested it on Carter’s desk, leaning forward so he chest was puffed out again as far as it could go and her hand was only an inch away from his.
“Uh, sure. If it’d make you feel more comfortable. These things can appear to be quite tricky without someone to guide you through the financial maze. I’d love to do that.” And there was something about his intonation that caught Mary Lou’s attention. As though it was the first real moment that Carter had left his script behind and was talking like himself. Talking for himself.
They arranged a time a couple of days later and Mary Lou thanked him and stood up. Carter came round and pulled back her chair to help her stand up, like a real gentleman. He held out his hand and they shook, but Mary Lou made sure she held it a fraction longer than was right. She could tell he had noticed because he squeezed just a little too much in response. Then she giggled, took her hand back and sashayed out of the bank. She didn’t look back but she could feel his gaze staring at her hiney as she left the building, her white stiletto heels clipping on the marble floor.
Mary Lou slipped back from her first memory of Carter and nuzzled him some more. His back was hairy but somehow that worked for her. And he certainly knew how to keep her happy in the sack. And the man sure had prospects.
Frank had prospects too. And big dreams. She loved the idea of spending her days on a sun lounger in some fancy house in Santa Barbara or somewhere. With a couple of kids and a Dalmatian.
Carter started to lick her tattooed rose again and she knew she should lie back and give in to the moment and worry less about Dalmatians and babies. Frank never licked her rose.
3
CARTER HAD PROBLEMS of his own, stuck in a loveless, barren marriage and in hock to a local Shylock to the tune of six thousand dollars. With no place to escape and no money to make the debt good. Up shit creek without a paddle. And his problems weren’t going to go away anytime soon that he could see.
When you double up on your losses to such a point that your bookie won’t take another bet from you, there’s definitely a problem. And Carter had got to the point where he was put in touch with Frank Senior who’d taken over the debt. Now, Carter hadn’t heard of Frank Senior before but he knew he was in the mire, even though he couldn’t quite tell how deeply in it he was.
Carter had arranged to meet with Frank Senior at his repair shop and he knew he’d better have this week’s payment with him. He’d heard tales of people losing their fingers to Shylocks before and that was enough to focus his mind and ensure he’d got hold of the cash, no Benjamins, no consecutive serial numbers.
When Carter walked down the street and found the yard with two broken down limos, he figured he had found the right place. Walking to the door, trying to avoid the spilled oil, his breathing got shorter and shorter until he saw his hand knock on the door, grab the handle and his whole body entered the room.
As he glanced around, he caught sight of a couple of mechanics in dark blue boiler suits and another guy, leaning back on his wooden chair, chewing a matchstick. There were various bits of crumpled paper on the desk in front of him, but that didn’t appear to bother him and his chewing. Carter couldn’t tell who was Frank Senior as none of them looked in charge or appeared to be expecting him. But they certainly weren’t acting like car mechanics either. There was a general air of quiet smugness in the room.
“I’m... I’m looking for Frank Senior?” faltered Carter.
Matchstick guy pointed to a door to his right in the far corner which Carter hadn’t noticed until now. He nodded to acknowledge Matchstick Charlie and proceeded to Frank Senior’s door, rapped on it with two short bursts, opened it and walked inside.
FRANK SENIOR WAS at the far side of the room, sat in a leather swivel chair, leaning back with his feet on an antique desk, etched in what looked like gold but was probably off-yellow paint. Frank Senior didn’t look up and carried on reading his magazine. Carter couldn’t see what it was, but it sure had a lot of full-page photos, some of which Frank Senior needed to turn sideways to see properly.
After a lifetime or about twenty seconds depending on who was counting, Carter gave out a little cough, but Frank Senior ignored him. Carter looked left then right, not too sure what to do. Should he start speaking or should he wait for Frank Senior to be ready?
The problem was solved for him while he was asking himself the question. Frank Lagotti Senior put his girlie magazine down, opened a drawer and brushed it in, closing the drawer with a slam. He leaned back again in his chair, placed his elbows on the armrests so each finger tip touched its counterpart on the other hand.
“Well,” he said quietly after a spell of staring at Carter like he was shit on his shoe. “What do we have here?”
Carter cleared his throat and mumbled his name, eyes facing downwards. They both knew why he was there and neither really wanted to spend any longer in each other’s company than was absolutely necessary for the transaction of the day. Carter put his hand into the top inside left pocket of his jacket and Frank Senior tensed ever so slightly, but not enough for Carter to notice or understand why a man like Frank Senior would be concerned about a stranger reaching into an inside pocket and whipping out anything.
He held the envelope and placed it on the near side of Frank Senior’s desk. Frank dropped his feet down onto the ground, reached out and grabbed the envelope. Tore it open and pulled out the greenbacks. Licked a forefinger and quickly counted up all the notes.
“Good,” he intoned, “I don’t like being short-changed with my payments. Make sure you remember that. If you ever have a problem making a payment: beg, borrow from a friend, steal. I don’t care. Take the money from your mother’s purse or from your girlfriend’s snatch. I don’t give a fuck. Just bring me my money every week and you’ll walk out of here every week. Got it?”
“Yes... sir,” stuttered Carter. Frank beckoned with a dismissive hand for Carter to go. Then he took the cash, rolled it into a cylinder shape and stuffed it into his trouser pocket.
Carter turned around and walked out. This was one scary mother to be dealing with and they were going to be seeing an awful lot of each other unless Carter could think of some way of getting a very large amount of money together i
n a very short amount of time. Maybe he should go to Atlantic City and try his hand at poker. But gambling’s what got him into this situation in the first place.
A WEEK LATER, Carter was back but this time with a slight spring in his step. He’d met Mary Lou only the day before and even though she was just a girl looking for a savings account, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. He’d felt a real connection with her and couldn’t work out why. They were meeting in a local coffee shop a short walk from the bank tomorrow and maybe he’d figure it out then. Meantime, there was Frank Senior’s payments to contend with.
If he could explain things to Rita then maybe her family could help him out. After all, they were well off and they spent almost all their time telling her how much happier she could be without him. Well, maybe if they handed over some money, he’d suggest a divorce. Maybe.
But Carter knew this was not a realistic scenario because, firstly, his in-laws would never agree to paying off his gambling debts even if it meant increasing their daughter’s happiness because they despised him so much. Secondly, he couldn’t get divorced because then his prospects at the bank would be shot to hell. They only promoted married men and if he waited it out a year or two then Mr. Cranford might retire and then he could end up as the Assistant Bank Manager. And who knows where after.
So he was left making payments to Frank Senior from now until the year after next. Of course, if he could get the girl to put a large sum into the bank then he could ask for a raise or something, which would at least ease the weekly burden a bit.
But within two weeks Carter was short in a payment and didn’t know what to do. He was spending money on Mary Lou that should have been earmarked for Frank Senior. He was besotted with her and spent most of his time at the bank thinking about the next time they would see each other. Thinking about the curves of her breasts and the scent of her rose. She smelled of sex and he wanted more.
Instead, he needed to figure out a strategy to deal with Frank Senior because he had virtually nothing in the envelope this week. He could try running away. No, really. If he left the state Frank Senior couldn’t possibly find him. If he changed his name, left his wife, he could start again with Mary Lou. They could live off her investment money until he got himself sorted. They could go to Florida. But he’d only just put a down payment on an apartment for the two of them and deep down Carter knew Frank Senior would find him wherever he went. Even Mexico.
Instead he went to the repair shop with an envelope which had only an insult of cash in it and hoped he could survive the inevitable beating or get to a hospital fast enough to get the end of his finger sewed back on.
INSIDE FRANK’S OFFICE, Carter stood near the door, waiting for Frank to look up and acknowledge him. Frank always made him wait.
Eventually, Frank said: “Well?” and Carter took out his ever-so-thin envelope out of his jacket pocket. Unlike the previous times, on the previous weeks, Carter didn’t place the envelope on Frank Senior’s desk.
“Mr. Senior,” Carter began, “I know we are both going to be disappointed by what I’m about to say, but I want you to know I mean you no disrespect and I have surely tried my hardest to get matters... sorted.”
Lagotti let the legs of his chair slam down onto the ground to show his displeasure at this unpleasant turn of events. All Carter had done past weeks was to take out the envelope, wait for Lagotti to count the wad and leave. Now the pip speak son-of-a-bitch was making speeches. And that meant only one thing: he was short and was trying to cut a deal.
Usually, this would mean Luigi and Paul next door would have to drag his sorry ass out of the office and beat the living shit out of the pen pusher. But today was Carter’s lucky day and he didn’t even know it. His besotted angel, Mary Lou was going to save him having a new asshole cut out where his kidneys used to be.
Lagotti had already heard of the plans for the job from his step nephew, Frank. And he knew Carter was their mark. Lagotti also knew what kind of man Carter was: a coward, a weakling gambler who stole money from his wife to place bets on baseball games he knew nothing about. But he worked in a bank and that was a place with lots of money and now Lagotti had some real leverage with this pin head. Leverage Frank need never know about.
“Young man, before you say another word, stop,” said Lagotti quietly, slowly and sternly. “I told you when we first met that the only thing you had to do each week was bring me my fuckin’ money. And I’m guessing you ain’t planning on doing that this week.”
Frank put a hand up to prevent Carter from responding, which was exactly what Carter had been intending to do.
“I’m going to give you a chance to play double or quits. While you really need to have got me my fucking money,” slamming his fist on the table and making Carter flinch where he stood, “I am prepared on this one occasion to give you a second chance before I ask my friends to rearrange your body parts and throw you into a dumpster.”
Lagotti held back saying anything for a second or two to let that image sink in. Then he continued: “You can take the beating and double your debt or you can wipe it out and maybe make some money on top too. Which’ll it be?”
“Wipe it out please, sir,” whispered Carter, his throat so dry with fear he daren’t swallow in case he choked.
Lagotti explained what Carter had to do. There would come a morning when he would get a visit from Luigi or Paul and the next day, he would go into the bank just like any other day. But before the bank opened for business, Carter would go into the vault and transfer the cash into a case, which he would then hide in the bank. At no point during the day should Carter do anything unusual, Lagotti made that very clear. Also, Carter had to find a way to take out the case when he left that day. He’d receive further instructions in the evening to tell him where to go with the case.
Lagotti told him if he did as was told and kept his end of the bargain then his debt would be wiped clean and if there was more than enough in the case, he’d get to keep a couple of thousand for himself. Happy days. If he didn’t do what he was told he could guarantee his body parts would be spread across the greater Baltimore area and his death would be slow, painful and full of unbelievable agony.
Carter was convinced without a moment’s thought. This was a big break he couldn’t ignore. For the first time in his life, he could end up with his own scratch and a chance for a new life with Mary Lou. And then the rose popped into his head again and he scurried out of Lagotti’s office in case Frank Senior changed his mind.
4
THEY HAD ARRANGED to meet in the Lansdowne cemetery and Frank had arrived a few minutes early to find a quiet spot, away from the roads that lined two of the graveyard’s triangular sides and off the main path that ran through the middle of the cold, gray slabs.
Frank found a bench, hidden under a tree he figured would do just fine. It faced a row of graves with no flowers near them, which showed they were unlikely to be visited this afternoon. Frank Senior arrived in the cemetery bang on time but it took Paul and Luigi a little while to find Frank and his bench. By the time Frank Senior was sat next to Frank, the clock in the tower struck a quarter past two.
“Hi, Uncle Frankie,” said Lagotti’s nephew, with a quiet, contemplative smile on his face. Lagotti nodded by way of acknowledgement and sat back on the bench, passing his arm round the back of Frank’s shoulders.
“Hey you. Good to see you again,” he said warmly, wanting the boy to know everything was alright and that, even though he wasn’t a blood relation, Frankie would give him more than just the time of day.
“You too, Uncle Frankie. Real good to see you. I mean, it’s fucking great to be out the can, y’know?”
They sat and talked about the good old days for a spell, Frankie letting Frank find out the latest gossip about their mutual family members. Then they were silent, staring at the graves representing the dead and buried from many years ago.
“Stir was tough, Frankie. I mean, I kept myself clean and all, but it’s tough. Al
ways watching your back, never knowing who to trust. The only ones you could be sure of were the screws. You could always rely on them to be a bunch of mothers. Apart from that, you just never knew...”
“I know my boy, I know. But you did well. No drugs inside, right?”
“I stayed clean, sir.”
“Good boy. And did your girl come and visit you?”
“Every weekend like clockwork. And she wrote me a letter every week too.”
“Good girl. You’ve got a keeper there, mark my words. A keeper there.”
“Yessir.”
“And all that unpleasantness with Louis, that’s all over right?”
“Yes, for sure. Louis got his before I went inside, anyway. So what’s done is done, I say.”
Louis was the bright spark who’d led his gang into a supermarket safe job without knowing there were two separate phone lines leading out of the building. When they grabbed the bags of cash and left by the back door, the cops were waiting for them. Frank might have only just turned thirty, but he wasn’t that much of a greenhorn, despite always being called a boy by his step uncle. He knew Louis had fucked up even before they started crouching behind their getaway car and firing back at the cops. Frank and Louis survived but the rest of them bought it that morning.
After Uncle Frankie posted his bail, Frank went round to Louis’ apartment and threw him out of the eighth floor window. There was no open casket at that funeral because there wasn’t much solid to bury.
“What’s done is done for sure.” Beat. “So you got any plans now you’re out?”
Lagotti was happy to see Frank but knew the guy would take up the whole of his afternoon if he let him and there was business to attend to other than his nephew Frank.
The Lagotti Family Series Page 2
