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siiplah
It was a red letter day all right. John Law was turning up the heat. John Law wasn't the only one. The rumble on the street was that Jimmy Cohan was sending out droppers to keep the job hush-hush. He was taking out his own men to make sure they didn't talk.
People were always talking. They talked a lot, people. They said I'd been hitting the giggle-juice too hard. That my brain was fried. They were right. Why else would I work for Jimmy Cohan? I guess a dog can only be a dog, a cat a cat. You take a hood from the slums and bars and what, you expect a choir boy? You can't change what you are.
I was drifting around before I found my calling. Learned from the best can-opener there ever was. Paulie Fingers. There wasn't a safe he couldn't crack. He disappeared a few years ago. Whacked, sure, but by who and why? I found no answers, but you don't find many on the floor of the gin mill. Recently, I tried to lay off the sauce, get my act together. That's how I wound up with this job. Another good career move. Knocked over the wrong people. Diamonds and pearls, ice and marbles, and more mazuma than I'd ever seen in my life. I was there for the box-job. The buttons arrived just as we were through. They plugged Sid the Kid but the rest of us shot out way out. Somebody ratted on us. The swag got back to Cohan, but I never did get paid.
I was about to skip. Packing a bag with a bottle or two, clutching a train ticket in a sweaty hand.
"You look like a little flushed, Red. You feeling okay?"
I turned to find Edie Cohan standing in furs and finery. Yeah, that's right, Cohan. Daughter of the big cheese. Forbidden fruit for the goon crew. Gams like a stairway to heaven, heart like the pit of hell. Here she was in my basement apartment while orders for my head were being placed. I just stood there, wondered if some Bruno had his piece aimed at the back of my head, waiting to take me down a lead-ladened highway.
"I'm here alone."
Sure you are, dollface. Eyes the colour of a summer evening's sky. Black hair like a curtain, to be drawn or veiled as required. Her lips didn't posture or pout, they remained matter-of-fact, with an innocence I assumed was greatly deceptive. Yeah, so she was a looker. Like any amount of them. But she was a formal invitation to dinner with the ballyhoos. Everything's on the menu, except the concrete footwear. That's the reason I never acknowledged her presence any time I visited the Cohan's. I'm clever, see? Just not clever enough.
"Oh yeah? You ever heard of knocking? How'd you get in here, anyway?"
"The door was open."
Of course it was, Red, you left it open. Real clever.
"Doesn't mean you can just swan right in here. What're you doing here anyway? This place will be crawling with buttons soon."
Edie laughed and for once I thought she looked older than she was. Like she knows the score too well.
"It'll take the police at least a couple of days before they come looking here."
"Well what about the goon squad your father sent out. I'll be taken out. Or is that why you're here, to keep me busy? Well I'd like to, sweetcakes, but I'd prefer to die with my pants on."
She wrinkled her nose up at my coarse words. It was a good-looking nose.
"I don't like your manners."
"Well I'm not crazy about yours, either. Now what are you here for?"
"I'm in trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"From my father. I need your help."
"What, you think I fell off the last melon wagon? Maybe you don't realise, honey, but you're part of this town's biggest gang family. Anyone who even gives you the once-over ends up as fish food. But you need my help?"
"Yes. I'm trapped. I can't live, can't do anything."
'What, the swanky pad not plush enough? Your allowance not big enough? You'll forgive me if I'm not buying."
"I don't care if you buy it or not. My life is controlled by my father, I can't do anything without him demanding to know about it. You should have seen what it took to be here right now."
"No I shouldn't. I don't want to know. You're going to get me killed. Now scram, will ya?"
Starting to sob, she sat on the edge of an old armchair. Curious, the silk dress pressed against a scratched and mangy armrest. She looked old again. Old and tired.
"You're not on the list. For the goons."
That pricked up my ears.
"Oh yeah?"
"Daddy thought you were different. You weren't like the others. You had skills."
"Damn right."
"He said he could use a man like you."
"I bet he could. Suddenly I'm in demand."
"You also never sleazed all over me. You positively ignored me. That's another reason."
I was starting to buy it. If it was a set-up, it wasn't a very good one. Then again, I was starting to buy it.
"So how do you expect me to help?"
She answered quickly, too quickly.
"Take me away with you. Out west. Or to the south. Anywhere."
I waved the half-packed bag at her.
"Sure, yeah, we can survive on two bottles of bourbon and my whites. That should tide us for quite some time."
She raised an eyebrow and stood up. I saw for first time the small case on the floor.
"It's most of it. The stones and quite a lot of... what do you guys call it?"
"Mazuma?"
"Right. As precious as your whites are, Red, this case could be useful too."
I was impressed. I was more than impressed. It's not everyday some dish arrives at your door with that kind of scratch.
"Could be. So why don't you just split. Take off."
"On my own? I'd last five seconds."
"You're not scared I'll bump you off?"
She laughed quietly. Perhaps it was my choice of words, but I thought it was the very notion that I couldbump her off that amused her. I could tell this was a dame who certainly would be able to last five seconds.
"You can't change what you are, Red. You're just wrong about what you are."
The dame was the bee's knees. The 'rat' who put the heat on? Yeah, you guessed it. She had it all mapped out. All the crew accounted for, heat drawn to everyone except us. And, yeah, so I was sweet on her. There's that. And yeah, she was a looker. There's that too. I tell myself that's the reason I ignored her, I saved us both. I tell myself that some part of me knew the score all along. But who am I kidding, it was all Edie. Sitting on a train headed to the sun, away from streets awash with villainy. Under skies as blue as her eyes, I'm drying up. Can't ignore the dame now.
Couldn't if I tried.
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