There were three customers in the butcher shop. Carlo put the CLOSED sign on the door to be sure there wouldn’t be any more. One of the three customers read the situation right and left without buying anything. The woman awaiting her lamb chops would have done so, too, had she not been in mid-purchase.
Alonzo swung the cleaver, made the chops. They weren’t anything close to even, but no one cared. The woman grabbed them gratefully, flung money on the counter, and fled.
The last customer, finally recognizing the situation, decided there was something he would rather do. He beat a dignified, albeit hasty, retreat.
Carlo locked the door behind him and pulled down the blind.
Mario lit a cigar. “Alonzo. You don’t look happy to see me. It’s payday. Don’t you have the cash?”
“I got the vig.”
“Hear that, Carlo? He’s got the vig. But there’s principal involved. Wouldn’t you like to pay it down?”
“I’ll have it Thursday.”
Mario looked shocked and offended. He spread his arms and shook his head deploringly at the butcher’s faux pas. “You’re asking me to come all the way back here on Thursday because you are not prepared? That is a serious breach of etiquette. And how do we deal with serious breaches of etiquette, Carlo?”
Carlo looked like an unprepared student who had been called on by the teacher. “Real well?” he guessed.
Mario chuckled and shook his head ruefully. “Well, that’s certainly true. But how do we deal with a person who has made a serious breach of etiquette?”
“We remind him?”
“Exactly. We remind him. We point out the error of his ways. Which is what we need to do in this case.” Mario smiled at the wretched butcher. “That’s a real dangerous profession you have, chopping meat. How many fingers do you have left?”
Alonzo trembled and tried to hide his hands.
Mario said sweetly, “Could Carlo borrow your cleaver?”
The sun was shining brightly as Mario and his goons came out of the butcher shop.
“Who’s next?” Carlo said. Carlo felt exhilarated, as he always did after chopping off a finger.
Mario consulted his notebook. “Ah. Herbie Fisher.”
“Who?”
“The guy who didn’t want to pay.”
“They all don’t want to pay.”
“Idiot. The lawyer you hung out the window.”
“A lawyer. What do you do with a lawyer? Hit him with a gavel?”
“That’s very funny. You know why you find that very funny? Because he is not holding your ninety grand.”
“That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes, it is. That’s not like a few hundred dollars to a butcher. That is serious cash. It requires a serious reminder.”
“You want me to shoot at him again?”
“Ah, Carlo,” Mario said. He shook his head deploringly, but almost fondly. “Try to learn something. If you hit him, he can’t pay. If you miss him, he knows you don’t mean to hit him. What’s the good of that?”
“I could shoot his girlfriend.”
Mario blinked. “He has a girlfriend?”
“Yeah. She was with him in the restaurant. They looked like they’re in love.”
“You might have mentioned this before.”
“Why?”
“It’s called leverage, Carlo.” Mario blew a smoke ring. “So. That’s excellent. I gave him twenty-four hours to pay, and he has not done so. I can’t let someone stiff me on a debt of that size. It makes me look weak. A man in my profession can’t afford to look weak.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“We are going to set him up, Carlo. We are going to make him wish he’d paid.”
34
Yvette came out the front door of Herbie’s apartment building. She smiled at the doorman and declined his offer to get her a cab. Instead, she strolled in the sunshine down Park Avenue. As she was passing the side street, hands grabbed her and pulled her aside.
“Donnie!” Yvette hissed. “What are you doing? You can’t be here. Why are you here?”
“Why do you think?”
“I can’t keep giving you money.”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t want you to.”
“Really?”
“That would be stupid.”
Yvette looked at him suspiciously. “Really?”
“Of course not. Blow our chances just for a few bucks? What a bad move.” Donnie stretched and cocked his head. “Though I could use some cash.”
“Donnie.”
“Relax, I’m not taking your money. Of course, I wouldn’t mind taking his.”
“Damn it, Donnie.”
“Take it easy. Did I say I was doing it? No. I said I wouldn’t mind. There’s the problem. You’ve got this wonderful setup, but it’s taking a little long, and what am I gonna do for money?”
“You ever think of working?”
“You are funny. So, I was thinking, ’cause that’s what I do, ’cause one of us has to, so I was thinking, how can I take some of this guy’s money without taking his money.”
“Oh, you were thinking that? There’s a brilliant idea.”
“Actually, it is. See, this guy’s rich. He’s got all this expensive shit.”
“I am not stealing from him.”
“Of course not. I am. All you have to do is what you’ve been doing. And you do it so well, don’t you, honey?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got it all worked out.” Donnie handed her a little glass vial. He put it in her palm, wrapped her fingers around it. “You take this, you put it in his drink. You mix him drinks, don’t you, honey? So you mix this one. And he goes to sleep, just for a little while — you’re not poisoning him, just a nice, deep sleep. And while he’s out, I steal his stuff.”
“And how am I going to explain how his stuff vanished from under my nose?” Yvette asked sarcastically.
“What’s to explain? You’re going to show me the stuff he never uses. The stuff he never even looks at. He won’t even know he’s been robbed.”
“Oh, yeah? How are you going to rob him? You can’t get in.”
He laughed. “Oh, how little you know.”
35
Herbie was on his way up Centre Street toward the courthouse when two goons fell into step next to him.
“Aw, come on, guys, give it a rest,” Herbie said.
The goons flanked him and took him by the arms.
“I hate to spoil your fun, but I really don’t have time to hang upside down for you right now.”
No one was paying the least attention to him. The goons marched him down the street to a stretch limo, thrust him inside, and slammed the door.
The man sitting in the backseat was flashily dressed. His clothes were expensive but showed little taste. He looked as if a great deal of care had been taken to make him appear just wrong. The effect was vulgar, while meant to be impressive.
He smiled cordially and said, “Please, sit down.”
Herbie sat in the seat facing him.
“Would you care for a drink?”
“Thank you, I have to be in court.”
“Yes, I know. You’re Herb Fisher.” He cocked his head. “Do you know me?”
“I don’t believe we’ve met.”
“I’m Tommy Taperelli.”
“Ah, yes. The man with no ties to Detective Kelly.”
Taperelli smiled. “That’s funny. Keep that sense of humor and we’ll get along fine. That’s right, I’m the man with no ties to Detective Kelly. And since I don’t have any, there’s no reason to waste time trying to prove I do.”
“Is that right?”
“It’s not just right, it’s essential. This case needs to end today, and not in a plea bargain. In a verdict. Because people need to get on with their lives, for many reasons too numerous to mention. So I thought that’s why we should have this talk, one gentleman to another. Because Woodman & Weld is a prestigious firm, but they can’t keep running through lawyers like this. It would be a shame if they had to bring in somebody else.”