“There seems to be a little misunderstanding here,” I said. “See, I dropped off some jewelry here this morning—”
“We sold your jewelry to some lady,” the young guy said.
“Why’d you do that?” I said. “Your boss promised me he wasn’t gonna sell it.”
“Well, he did. So why don’t you just get the hell out of our store before I call the cops or shoot you. You decide which.”
I stood there for a few seconds thinking, then I walked out. I kicked the side of my car as hard as I could, adding a new dent. I thought about hanging out until the kid went home, then going back into the store to talk to the old man again, but what good would that do? It wouldn’t get me Janene’s jewelry back.
I still had over an hour before I had to be at work so I went downtown to the OTB Teletheater on Water Street.
The Aqueduct card was over so they were showing races from Hollywood Park. It had to be an omen—the place I was going to wind up someday as a horse owner was on the TV screen. I bought a program. There was a horse going off at three to one, and it looked unbeatable. This was it, the spot I’d been waiting for. I bet the whole three grand, figuring when it won I’d get back twelve.
The race went off and I thought I must’ve bet on the wrong horse. The horse I bet on always went to the lead, but this pig was dead last. Then the announcer said that the jockey had pulled my horse up on the backstretch.
I couldn’t believe it—I was broke again. The money didn’t even have a chance to get warm in my wallet.
When I got to work I was still numb. I had no idea what I’d say when Janene came asking about her jewelry.
I poured a Sam Adams and sat at the bar. Jerry, one of the old cronies who came to O’Reilley’s every afternoon, was sitting next to me. He reeked of alcohol so I knew he was lit.
“Hey, Tommy,” he slurred, just noticing me next to him, even though I’d been sitting there a couple of minutes already. “How’s it goin’?”
The last thing I was in the mood for was to get into a conversation with some old drunk. I just nodded, staring straight ahead.
“I’m doin’ all right,” he said. “Seen better days, but who hasn’t? I guess that’s what getting older’s all about. But I can’t complain. I’m not dead—that’s one good thing.”
I didn’t say anything. I was still thinking about that race at Hollywood Park and how I had screwed everything up. Then Jerry said “So did you buy your box yet for the Super Bowl pool?” and I said to myself: the Super Bowl pool. Of course, the Super Bowl pool.
Seven
Every year O’Reilley’s had a Super Bowl pool. It was the same type of pool that just about every other bar in the city had. There were two columns of numbers, 0-9—one column for the AFC team, one column for the NFC team. For X number of dollars you got a box with two numbers that had to match the last digits of the score at the end of a quarter or, for the big prize, the end of the game. At O’Reilley’s, boxes went for five hundred bucks apiece so the total prize money would be fifty thousand dollars. The Super Bowl was still over a month away, but at least half the boxes were already full. Frank was putting the money in the bank as it came in, but a bunch of guys bought boxes last week and the money was in the safe—and the safe was right behind the bar.
As Jerry went on, talking about whatever, I was thinking about a robbery. Getting in would be easy, the only question was when I would do it. From watching Frank over the years I already knew the combination by heart. It was a good thing I always noticed things like that. I’d only seen Janene punch the code of her ATM card into the machine that one time and I still had the digits memorized.
The best time to do it would be late at night, just before closing time. It would be the only time I could do it because there were always people around the bar at other times and I didn’t have a key to the bar to come and go in the middle of the night. When I had the chance, I’d have to move fast. I couldn’t put it off much longer either. I saw Frank going into the safe a few nights ago and saw those stacks of bills, but it was only a matter of time until he moved the cash to the bank, if he hadn’t done it already.
The only thing that bothered me about my plan was that I’d be stealing from Frank. I knew he wouldn’t suspect me—he liked me too much to think I’d ever do something like that to him. Chances were, he’d blame Debbie or Gary—probably Debbie. But he was the only person in the world who’d always been there for me when I needed him and I really didn’t want to screw him over like that.
I went to the pay phone in the back of the bar and called home for my messages. There was one message:
“Hello, this is a message for Tommy Russo—Tommy, there was a very long beep on your machine so I hope you get this. This is Alan Schwartz, returning your call. So I hear you want to get involved in our little syndicate? Terrific. I don’t know how much Pete told you, but if you leave your address with my secretary I’ll FedEx you a copy of the contract we worked out. If you have any questions I’d be delighted to answer them. Unfortunately, I’ll be out of the office most of the day today. Maybe we could all get together early next week sometime and discuss a strategy, etcetera, okay? Oh, and you can give us your check then too. Okay? So let’s talk for sure next week and I hope you have a good weekend. Goodbye, Tommy.”
I hung up without saving the message. By eight o’clock there was already a nice-sized Friday night crowd in the bar and I was standing at the door proofing. I was in a good mood—laughing, joking around with everybody. I was even nice to Gary. When he showed up I said, “Hey, what’s going on?” when I usually didn’t say jack shit to him. He noticed the change in me and said, “You sure you’re feeling all right tonight?”
“Never felt better in my life, buddy,” I said.
After a while the crowd started to thin out and then Susan Lepidus showed up at the bar. She used to hang out at O’Reilley’s a lot, then, about a year ago, we went out one night to a club on the West Side. I hadn’t seen her in at least six months. She had curly red hair that went halfway down her back and she had a small, pretty face. She was with a short, dark-haired guy I’d never seen before.
“Hi, Tommy,” she said, giving me a big warm smile.
“Haven’t seen you in a while, huh?” I said.
“Maybe I’ve been hiding from you,” she said.
“Well, I found you,” I said.
We both laughed. Her boyfriend, watching us, didn’t crack a smile.
“Tommy, I’d like you to meet Jim. Jim, this is Tommy.”
I shook Jim’s hand. He had a strong grip, the typical little guy trying to act tough.
I looked back at Susan and I thought I caught her staring at me.
“Anyway, we better get inside, it’s freezing out here,” she said. “I’ll talk to you later, okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
Susan and Jim went into the bar. Then, about a minute or two later, I was checking a few more IDs when I felt somebody touching my arm. I turned around and Susan was standing there.
“So how are you?” she said.
“Pretty good,” I said. “So you don’t come around here too much any more, huh?”
“I haven’t been going out as much as I used to,” she said. “I guess I’m getting boring in my old age.”
“You don’t look so boring to me.” I said.
We both smiled. Her lips, coated with bright red lipstick, looked good.
“I better go,” she said. “My friend’s gonna be back from the bathroom in a second. But, you know, we should really go out again sometime. Why don’t you give me a call?”