The Amateurs (20 page)

“What is this, anyway? We’re partners, for Christ’s sake.” Trying to recover his bluster.

“Stand up, Johnny.”

“What?”

“Stand up.”

Moving like he was afraid he was going to be knocked down again, Johnny rose. Victor gestured, and one of his men moved the chair. “Now. Here are the rules.”

“Rules?”

“Don’t worry, they’re simple. I’m going to ask you questions. Every time I don’t like your answer, I’m going to take a step forward. And you”—Victor gestured—“you’re going to take a step back.”

“What are you . . . ?” Johnny spun, saw the open air and the hundred-foot plummet to broken ground behind him. His skin visibly paled as he measured the distance. “No, hey, listen—”

“Where’s my merchandise?”

“I—I don’t know, really, I don’t know.”

Victor took a step forward. Johnny stared at him. “I’m not going to—are you crazy?”

Victor sighed, glanced at one of the men. The soldier started forward, and Johnny took a hurried step back. “OK, OK.”

“Good. Now. I’m curious. When was the last time you were robbed?”

“I’ve never—never.”

“But you were last night.”

“Yes. They came in wearing masks, waving guns, they—”

“Don’t you find it a little unusual that you were robbed for the very first time on the one occasion we’re doing serious business?”

“It wasn’t me. I wouldn’t do that. You know I wouldn’t.”

Victor took a step forward, his eyes locked on Johnny’s. After a moment’s hesitation, the fat man took a step back. A gust of wind cut through the floor with a reek of garbage and exhaust.

“Where is what I want?”

“They must have taken it.”

“By ‘they’ you mean the men who robbed you, for the first time you’ve ever been robbed, on the exact night that you were getting my merchandise? Merchandise for which I graciously, and in violation of my general principles, supplied part of the purchase price?” He cocked his head. “Do you see my concern?”

“Yeah, totally, but—”

Victor took a step forward.

“Hey, no, listen.” Johnny glanced behind him, his eyes measuring the half-dozen feet between him and the edge. “I’ll get you your money back. Right away. I know how this looks, but it’s not that. I would never do that. Do you think I’m stupid?”

“I think you owe me a step. If you make me take it from you, it might be more than one.”

Trembling, the man moved back a scant six inches.

“Johnny.”

He winced and went another foot.

“That’s better. Now. I’m afraid that the money isn’t my only concern right now. I want the materials you promised. I have some gentlemen very eager to take delivery. And I have a reputation to protect. When I say that I have something for sale, I need to deliver. Otherwise, people don’t trust me anymore. And it’s important that people believe every word I say.” Victor curled his fingernails in to look at them. “You, for instance. Do you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s good. Because you have three steps left, and that last one’s a doozy.”

“I swear, I didn’t say anything about you to the police.”

“I know you didn’t, Johnny. I’ve read the report.” He let the words sink in. “I want to know what you think happened.”

“I—” He paused. “Maybe it was an inside job.”

“Did you tell someone?”

“No, of course not. I had a bartender working as security, but no way it’s him. He’s a civilian, kind of a pussy. And he didn’t know what was going on.”

“Then how could it have been an inside job?”

“Maybe someone on your end found out about it. No disrespect,” Johnny added quickly. “Just that the guys who came in, they were pros. And that would explain the timing.”

Victor smiled. “Do you think so?”

“I . . . maybe.” The man put his hand to his forehead, his eyes widening. “Wait a second. Bennett.”

“Who?”

“Bennett! The guy who scored this stuff in the first place. What if he’s burning us?”

“Go on.”

“He said he wasn’t going to come himself, right? Told me in advance that he was going to send someone to bring me the stuff and take the money. A kid named David Crooch.”

“The body in the alley.”

“Right, right. What if Bennett also sent the guys to rob me, and told them to kill Crooch? That way it looks like he got burned too. Motherfucker!” Johnny straightened. “He ripped us both off, partner.”

“So Bennett set up the meet as a con. He never intended to give us the merchandise. It might not even exist.”

“Exactly. Exactly.” The man hopeful now, his eyes wide. “Sneaky
fuck
.”

“Of course, you could be doing the same thing.”

“Huh?”

“For all I know, this Bennett doesn’t exist. Maybe you made him up, staged the robbery, and had Crooch killed in the alley.”

“No, I would never—” He shook his head violently.

“Or maybe Bennett does exist, and you decided to burn us both. Keep the money, keep the goods.”

“No, I swear—”

“See, here’s the thing, Johnny. I don’t care. I really don’t. I just want what I paid for, because I made deals based on your word. And I’m holding you responsible.”

“Wait—”

“So you need to understand something.” Victor took a step, and Johnny followed suit, trembling. “Two more steps, that’s all you’ve got. I will walk you right off the edge of this building. And you will do it, staring me in the eyes the whole time. You will walk yourself right out of life. Because you can imagine what will happen to you if you don’t. Because you believe every word I say.” He took another step, and Johnny did too. “Right?”

“Yes!” The man stood six inches from the edge, hands still cuffed, bent slightly forward as though afraid his balance would betray him. “But I swear to God, I didn’t have anything to do with this. I would have come to you right away—I should have come to you right away. I was just trying to handle it on my own. I’ll get you the stuff, somehow, oh Jesus, I don’t want to, please don’t make me.” There was a sharp tang to the air, and the front of Johnny’s track pants darkened. “I’ll get it for you!”

“How?”

“I’ll find Bennett. If he didn’t fuck me, I’ll find the people that did. I swear, I swear I will. I swear on my mother.”

“Your mother, who lives in that lovely converted bungalow in Jefferson Park?”

The man’s head snapped straight up. His face was nothing but eyes and panic.

“You wanted to be big-league, Johnny. Welcome. We play a rougher game.”

“I will get it for you. I promise.” His voice coming from a ragged place people liked to pretend didn’t exist.

Victor stared him in the face. Lifted his foot, watched Johnny flinch. Then he set it back down and broke into a smile. “OK.” He gestured to his men. They flanked Johnny, one standing ready while the other uncuffed him. The man made a sobbing sound, took a quick stride away from oblivion.

“First,” Victor said, “I want to talk to Bennett.
Today
. Second. You put the word out to everyone that you were robbed. I don’t care what it does to your reputation. Every pimp, every drug dealer, every bookie. Put money on it. Your own, of course. Someone out there knows something. I want to know it too.”

“Yes. Yes. No problem.” His hands shook as he rubbed at his wrists.

“You can go.”

The man sprinted for the exit. Victor let him almost make it before he said, “Oh, and, Johnny?”

He froze. Victor could see the animal part of the man wanting to continue. Slowly, slowly he turned around. “Yes?”

“From now on, let’s keep the lines of communication open, OK? I find business transactions run much more smoothly that way.”

“Uhh . . . yeah. Sure. I’ll tell you the moment I hear anything.”

“Good. That’s all.” Victor turned away, walked to the edge of the building. He stood with his toes hanging off, hands clasped behind his back. Chicago spread out in front of him, a wave of tall buildings breaking into a dark froth of two-flats and trees that extended all the way to the rising sun. Clean morning wind teased at his suit jacket. He took a deep breath, tasted the air.

From behind, one of his men said, “You really think he had anything to do with it?”

Victor glanced back, surprised. “Thought never entered my mind.”

W
HAT WAS IT with women and their showers?

She had ten kinds of shampoo and conditioner, body lotion in tropical flavors, a couple of things of exfoliant, whatever that was, a washcloth, a loofah, two bright pink razors, and a scrub thing. But bar soap? No.

Mitch settled on coconut-lime body gel. You were probably supposed to put it on the scrub thing first, but that seemed like too presumptuous an intimacy. He grinned at that, considering he’d touched and licked every inch of her last night. Still. He squirted the stuff on his hands, rubbed his armpits, his shoulders, his crotch.

He felt better than good, filled with a sense that everything was going to work out OK. He’d always envied that in other people. Happier, better-looking, richer people. They had a basic belief that the world would line up the way they wanted, and it usually did.

Well, now it was his turn.

Don’t get cocky. You’re not out of trouble yet.
Standing under the showerhead, hot water plastering his hair, running down his back, he thought through it again. Checking and rechecking, for the hundredth time.

Best he could tell, once they finished what they had to do today, they’d be clear. As long as they stayed cool and everyone did what they were supposed to, nothing should tie them to last night.

Once things had quieted down, they could tell the others about them. Jenn was nervous, he could understand that; hell, so was he. But now that she had finally seen him, he was going to do his damnedest to make sure it worked out.

Starting with them not getting caught. Best get moving. He reluctantly shut off the water, slid open the shower door, and reached for the towel Jenn had left, a big puffy thing. Where was the best place to abandon a car? A parking lot? Or maybe a rough neighborhood would be better. That made sense. He’d do a little Googling, find out where the most cars where stolen. Then run the Caddy through a detail shop to be sure there weren’t any traces, leave it with the windows open and the keys in the ignition. Even if the police found it first, it wouldn’t be a disaster. They’d just trace it back to the drug dealer—

Holy shit.

How had he missed that?

 

 

SHE WAS LEANING ON THE COUNTER, drinking a Diet Coke and thinking about that feeling of impending disaster, wondering what it meant. Were they being stupid even now? Should they go straight to the police and tell them everything? A big part of her wanted to, wanted to confess and get absolution, a detective standing in for a priest.

The liquid in her mouth went bitter, and she set the soda down, listened to the hum of the hot-water pipes. Mitch had asked if she minded if he showered, and while yeah, she kind of did, she didn’t know how to say that. It wasn’t that she wanted him gone for good or anything. She just wanted a little time to herself. Time to lay on the couch and stare at the ceiling and think about everything, the money and the alley and the dead man and Mitch and Alex. It was a lot for a girl to process.

“Jenn!”

Even muffled by the walls, she could hear his excitement. She started for the bedroom fast and had no sooner opened the door than they almost collided, him naked and dripping, the towel on his shoulders.

“Whoa.” She glanced down, then back up. Smiled at him. “Hello there.”

He actually blushed as he wrapped the towel around his slim waist. For a second, she had a flash memory of Alex. It was hard not to compare their bodies, muscles and tattoos against pale and somewhat awkward flesh.
Not that it was awkward last night.

“What’s up?”

“We forgot, we totally forgot about it. How could we miss it?”

“What?”

“The car. We were so caught up in everything—”

“Slow down. What are you talking about?”

“He was there to sell drugs, right? But he wasn’t carrying anything.” He cocked his head. “So where would they be?”

She felt a moment of panic, then a cool revelation. “In his—”

“Car. Exactly.” He ran his hands up through his hair, slicked it back. “I think maybe we better take a look before we get it stolen, eh?”

“ALL RIGHT. Just look normal, like this is our car.”

“It is our car.”

Her morbid joke surprised him, and he laughed through his nose, then opened the door of the Eldorado.

The seats were leather, and the interior spotless. How did people do that? He never meant for his Honda to look like a rolling junk heap, filled with printed directions and crushed soda cans and a tattered map. It just sort of happened.