Then the door opened. Benny looked, stood up, and then he did a thing that happened only sometimes. He took off his hat.
Alverato came in slowly, “Drink, Tapkow?”
Benny started to tremble. He couldn’t control it any longer, couldn’t keep it coiled forever, the waiting, the hope for a chance. Now that it was happening, he couldn’t quite believe it.
“Big-Alverato-” he stammered.
“Look, Tapkow. Not Big Alverato. It’s either Big Al or Mr. Alverato. Here’s you’re drink.”
Benny took it.
“Call me Al, Tapkow. Sit down.”
“Yes, Mr.-Yes, Al.”
Alverato watched how Benny tossed his glass. “You scared or something?”
Benny put the glass down but didn’t answer right away. He’d had the shakes. He’d had a lot to lose besides his life, and now that part was over. Now he was going to start again where Pendleton had meant to stop him.
“Hey, Tapkow, are you with me?”
“Hell, yes.”
And now all he had to do was sit and wait to see what Alverato wanted.
“How long you been away from Pendleton, Tapkow?”
“A week or so.”
“You been pretty thick with that queer, right?”
Benny didn’t like that. “I never saw him any more. I had my own territory.”
“That’s why you were driving him around in that monkey suit, huh?”
“That’s the night I left.” Benny felt himself get tense again.
Alverato laughed. He gave out big, wet guffaws that made the little curls on his head jump like springs. Then he ignored Benny while he prepared himself a cigar. He chewed one end of it flat and soggy before he started to light up. Benny waited.
“How’d you like to make a grand or so?”
“That depends, Al.”
“On what?”
“On where it’ll get me.”
Alverato thought that over and started again. “Look, I saw you the first time when you and that bookkeeping bastard was at my house. Right then, I figured you for a sharp kid and a right guy. Maybe I can use you.”
Now Benny sat up.
“So I ask you again: you been pretty thick with Pendleton?”
“What do you mean, thick?”
“I mean thick! What in hell’s the matter with you, Tapkow? You don’t know American or something?”
Benny wasn’t sure just how to play it. If he knew the angle, what Alverato wanted, then he could play it right. But Alverato hadn’t said a thing.
“You’re fishing, Alverato. You think you’ll fish around and put me through the hoops, and then maybe you’ll let me have a proposition. I’ve been around a while, Alverato.”
“Shut up already!” Alverato’s face was suddenly thick with blood. He went for another drink. He didn’t offer Benny one this time. “Let’s have some answers, Tapkow. You used to drive for Pendleton?”
“Sure. But I was running my own territory.”
“Jesus, Tapkow, don’t you ever shut up? The hell with your lousy territory. I want to know if you’ve driven for Pendleton!”
“Yes.”
“What else?”
“I did jobs.”
“What kind?”
“All kinds. Pick up his pants from the cleaners. Bring a message to his firm, carry his goddamn ledgers around.” Benny sounded irritated. “And answered the goddamn telephone. A telephone girl-”
“What kind of calls?”
“Christ, all kinds of calls. What kind of calls you interested in, Alverato?”
“Shut up. I’ll ask the questions.”
Benny shut up. He didn’t want to go too far.
“Let’s see what you know, Tapkow. Who was old Ager’s man in Frisco?”
“Screwy Pinton.”
“How did Ager get his junk into the country?”
“Heroin?”
“What else, damn it?”
“Pendleton handled that.”
“I asked how.”
“Italy. From Italy.”
“Tapkow, you don’t hear so good. You haven’t told me a thing I didn’t know.”
So that was it. Alverato couldn’t play with Pendleton, so maybe one of the flunkies knew a little something. Just a clue, maybe, a million-dollar clue.
“Well? Maybe you’re thinking?”
The chance, Tapkow, the one-in-a-million chance!
“There were a few phone calls that sounded big. There’s one that came through often. He’d send me out of the room after I took the call. Big stuff, by the way Pendleton acted. The contact was A.A. That’s all I can think of right now. A.A.”
“Big stuff? You said big stuff?” Alverato was up and roaring. “You bet your lousy life that was big stuff. Me, Agrippino Alverato, get it? A.A.! And now get outa here, you broken-down punk. Get outa here before I tear your head off!”
Benny sat paralyzed with fear. Not fear of the big man, like an ox butting the air. But felt himself turn limp with the sight of this thing running through his fingers. And it had been so close, so close…
“Get out!” and he could feel the fine spray of spit, the face was that close.
It woke him up. There was always that last ounce of strength.
Benny went to the table and poured himself a drink. His hand was shaking just a little, but he poured it. He drank the whisky neat, watching Alverato stand by. Perhaps Pendleton had been right about Big Al. A noisy hangover from another time, riding on the coattails of old Ager, a machine gun in each hand.
“I got something to sell.”
“You have-” Alverato wasn’t so fast any more. He was still staring.
“How much are you paying?”
“Listen, punk, I pay what it’s worth. What are you selling?”
“About the Italy contact. How much?”
“Punk, learn something. Big Al never pulled a double-cross. If it’s worth something, I pay plenty. But first I gotta see.”
“A thousand on account, Al. I never double-cross, either.”
“A deal.”
Benny stepped closer and talked. “There’s a lodge up in the mountains. Pendleton goes there once, twice a year. Nobody used to go there but him and me driving. He hasn’t been there for a year. I was still driving him, now and then. The old keeper up there knows me, he hasn’t heard the latest.”
“Come on, come on, what’s up there?”
“It’s a safe, Al. I know where it’s hidden. No money in it-just papers and a notebook with a lock. I’ve seen it from the door. I’ve seen him hold the thing when he made his phone calls, some of them abroad, and everybody had to leave the room when he made-”
“All right, all right” Alverato walked to a porthole and looked out Then he turned.
“It’s a deal; you go up there. See me tomorrow at nine. One of the boys will pick you up at the pier.”
Chapter Six
They started for the mountains at ten in the morning. Smiley drove and Benny sat in back. He had his arms folded and wasn’t talking.
“Mr. Tapkow?”
“Call me Benny.”
“Sure thing, Benny. You got any idea what kind of a safe it is?”
“That’s your department. All I know, it’s in the wall.”
“Sure thing, Benny.”
They drove a while.
“Benny, is it round or square? You remember?”
“Round.”
“Oh. I guess that means-”
“Say, Smiley, how about thinking to yourself? This isn’t the wrong kind of job for you, is it?”
“Oh, no, Benny. I’ve studied with the best.”
“So drive.”
“Sure thing, Benny.”
They drove for two hours and turned into the mountains. After that came a gravel road that wound through the woods.
The big gate came without warning. Benny got out, stopped at the left gatepost, and felt the mortared crevices between the big stones. One of them swung out and showed a telephone.
Benny talked, and then the gates swung open. They drove through, up the winding road, and stopped at the porch of the lodge. There was an old man on the steps and he was carrying a shotgun.