“Ain’t science grand.”
Angelo sat on the twin bed opposite Greer’s. Angelo looked strange, fat head on skinny body, as if one person’s face was being superimposed somehow over the body of another. Greer twisted off the cap and swigged. So did Angelo.
Angelo said, “Hey, Greer.”
“Hey, what?”
“What d’you think of these clothes we’re wearing?”
“What d’you think?”
“I think I feel like a fairy.”
“You look like one.”
“Shit, cut it out. What d’you suppose people think when they see a couple guys dressed like us going into a motel room together?”
“I don’t know what they think. They think to each his own, I suppose.”
“Well, I feel like a fairy. Why does Felix dress us up like this, I want to know.”
“Why don’t you ask him?”
“Funny man. I’ll tell you why, it’s because he thinks we look less conspicuous dressed like this. Because we got to wear coats to cover up our guns and since it’s summer he doesn’t want us to look like pallbearers in black or something, so we walk around instead like a couple of fairies.”
“Golf pros dress like this,” Greer said. “Golf pros are athletes, aren’t they? You know any fairy athletes?”
“Golf pros aren’t athletes. Football players are athletes. Hockey players are athletes.”
“Drink your beer, fairy.”
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Just next time you go into the bar after it, okay? Greer.”
“Huh?”
“Greer, what you doing with your gun in your lap?”
“Nothing.”
“Beating it off, or what?” Angelo laughed and swallowed at the same time and it sounded like something going down a drain.
“You’re funny as a crutch, Ange.”
“Hey, you uptight today? Something on your mind today, Greer? Your forehead’s all wrinkled up. You been thinking again?”
“Look,” Greer said, “quit being cute long enough to tell me something. How long you been doing this bodyguard thing for Felix, anyway?”
“I don’t know. Maybe three years. Yeah, three years, a year longer than you.”
“What were you doing before that?”
Angelo smiled. “People borrow money they sometimes forget to pay back and somebody’s got to remind them of their obligation. You know.” Angelo laughed and swallowed again.
“Backing up the shylocks,” Greer said. “Pretty tough work. You have to kill guys sometimes doing work like that.”
Angelo nodded. “Not often, though. It’s bad business. How you going to get money out of a dead guy?”
“I used to hit guys,” Greer said.
“Yeah, you told me before. You were a real scary guy.”
“I used to do hits for Tony Action.”
“Sure, Tony Action. Mr. Machismo. They say he tied his wife to a chair in the kitchen and poured gas on her and gave her a light. That’s one way to duck divorce. Now me, my wife ties me up in the kitchen and feeds me her food and I get gas.” Angelo thought that was pretty funny. This time he devoted all his attention to laughing, no swallowing at all.
“Tony Action was really something,” Greer said. “You can laugh, but man, I mean to tell you. Really something.”
“Well, Tony is dead now, and I for one am never sorry to see one of those flashy tough asses get their ass shot off, they attract attention and give the rest of us a bad name, and you ought to be glad you had a reputation for being good help. Most of Tony’s guys got stepped down. You’re the only one who got fucking promoted.”
“I was lucky,” Greer said. “Don’t get me wrong. Working for Felix is good. It’s a good job. It’s just...”
“It’s just what?”
“I feel I’m getting soft in this job,” Greer said.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s like you say... we wear pink coats and follow a lawyer around, that’s what I mean.”
“You rather lay your balls on the chopping block every day? You’re a fucking nut.”
“No, no... it’s just that even though we’re following a lawyer around, we’re carrying guns, and that means we’re here because there’s some chance something might happen. And when it happens, I don’t want to be out of shape, you know?”
“Hey, Greer, tell you what... let’s go sit in the bar and wait till some fruits pick us up and bring them back here and you can beat the fuck out of ’em. How does that sound?” Angelo laughed-swallowed. He couldn’t have been having a better time at a party.
“You got a warped sense of humor, Ange. You really do.”
“What is it? You think maybe something’s going to happen on that overnight hike you’re going on tonight? Don’t worry, that guy Nolan will be along to protect you. Or is that it? Is that who you’re nervous about?”
“Bullshit.”
“Say, Felix isn’t going to try and cross this guy Nolan, is he? Is that why you’re nervous, baby?”
“Why don’t you just finish your beer, Angelo.”
“They tell stories about Nolan. He never burned up any women in the kitchen, but they tell stories about him.”
“Look,” Greer said, “all Felix said was I’d be going along. My understanding is that the guy has some money stashed somewhere, and that I’m supposed to escort him and the cash to one of our Chicago banks. If I’m worried about anything, it’s that money. All that money’s a big responsibility.”
“How much is it, anyway?”
“Felix wasn’t specific. I’d guess a couple hundred thousand, at least.”
“That’s probably right,” Angelo nodded. “You know I heard Felix say Nolan was behind that bank heist in Iowa a year or two back. The one that came close to eight hundred thousand. There were three or four men in on the job, I think. So he ought to have a couple hundred thousand at least is right.”
“Should,” Greer said. He sipped the beer. “Uh, what kind of stories you heard about him?”
“You ever hear how the thing between him and Charlie got going?”
“That’s before my time.”
“Mine, too. But my older brother Vinnie... you know Vinnie?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s in his era. Told me all about it. Charlie had a brother name of Gordon, an asshole from way back, and Charlie set this asshole Gordon up with part of the Chicago action. A bigger part than Gordon could handle, according to Vinnie. Anyway, Nolan is managing nightclubs and making quite a rep. He takes over a loser on Rush Street and turns it into a moneymaker in two months. And he does his own bouncing, I might add. So this Gordon, not content to leave ride a good thing, tries to move Nolan out of the club racket into strongarm, of all things. Nolan doesn’t want no part of enforcer stuff, and tells Gordon so. Now Gordon was a lot like Charlie, see, only less brains. All the pride, but lots less brains. And so Gordon tells Nolan, look, he doesn’t care, if he says crap, Nolan is supposed to ask how high, and that line of garbage. He tells Nolan to kill a guy, some guy who’s a friend of Nolan’s who works in his club. Nolan says no way. A few days go by and this guy, this friend of Nolan’s, turns up in Lake Michigan and he isn’t swimming. Nolan gets mad. He goes to Gordon and shoots the asshole and splits with twenty grand of the Family’s money.”
Greer smiled. He put his gun in his shoulder holster. “So that’s why Charlie hated Nolan so much. Nolan killed his brother.”
Angelo smirked, batted a hand at the air, “Oh, hell, Gordon was no loss to anybody. Not even Charlie. It was pride. Keep in mind Charlie’s pride, Greer. That was one puffed-up son of a bitch. Nolan’s play made a fool out of Charlie. He killed Charlie’s brother, right? And he stole Charlie’s money. And he got away clean. Worst of all, he got away clean. For years Charlie had an open contract out on Nolan. Nobody collected. Made Charlie look bad. Real bad. When all this happened, nearly twenty years ago, Charlie was underboss in Chicago. The day Charlie died he was still the same damn thing.”