Foley had on a T-shirt, a pair of new Levi's that felt snug on him, and a pair of plain white Reeboks Adele had sent him more than a year ago. He reached the patio as Little Jimmy appeared, coming out of the walk that ran along the side of the house, Little Jimmy alone, the bodyguard left behind. Dawn was ready. She kissed Little Jimmy on the mouth and let her eyes melt on him before turning to Foley.
"Jack, this is my pal Little Jimmy, sometimes known as the Monk. Isn't he cute? Dyes his hair, but who doesn't. And this is Jack Foley, America's foremost bank robber, retired, who swears he'll never rob another one."
Where'd she get that? In Foley's mind he was through with banks, but had never sworn to it. He stepped toward Jimmy Rios, the little dude posing now, hands turned around on his hips, fingers behind him, his shoulders slumped in a casual way, nothing to prove. Foley decided to start off liking him. Why not?
He said, "Jimmy, Dawn showed me a picture of you, it was when you were still in Florida, and I said, 'Jesus Christ, it's Tony Montana.' " He watched Little Jimmy shake his head, tired of hearing it, but with a grin, so it was okay. He touched his hair, thick and black, parted and combed across his forehead and fixed with a tortoiseshell barrette behind his ear. Weird, but it didn't look bad on him. Foley said, "I imagine you got tired of being taken for Tony."
"You right. Listen," Jimmy said, "back then every guy I know thought he was Tony Montana. Even ones don't look like him want to sound like him. Tony says, 'All I got in this world are my balls and my word. I don't break them for nobody, choo understand?'»
Foley said, "You're him, man, you're Tony," and said, " 'Choo know I buried those cock-a-roaches.' How many times you see the picture?"
"I use to say more than twenty times. Maybe I did, I don't know, till we become tired of it. I quit when I ask myself, you serious? Why you want to sound like that punk? He's stupid, don't even know why he fucked up."
Dawn said she'd be pouring margaritas in the kitchen and left them. Little Jimmy watched her go in the house before turning to Foley.
"Talk to me about Cundo, how he's doing." "He's the same. You'll see him the end of next week." "Yes? How is his health?" "I've never heard him complain." "What is he say about me? I been a good boy?" "He's proud of you," Foley said, "that's why he looks out for you. You're his boy."
"That's what you think? I'm his boy?"
"I didn't say it, he did. Cundo said he let you take over the businesses and you're doing a terrific job."
"He looks out for me-he tole you that? He say he let me run the business? Like he knows any fucking thing about it?"
"If you're running the show," Foley said, "I hope he's paying you enough."
"You know how much he let me have, to live on?"
"No, I don't. But he probably knows you're skimming on him. If he hasn't said anything it must be he expects you're taking a certain cut, so it's okay. I know he respects you," Foley said. "He made sure I understood you're a hundred percent loyal and always do what you're told."
"Listen, the only thing he tole me," Little Jimmy said, "outside of pay his bills, I have to take a blood oath, man, I will never leave him or cheat him or steal his money."
"What kind of blood oath?"
"We make a cut in our hands, here, and press them together. Cundo say now we one, we family, I have to stay loyal to him always."
"What if you don't?"
"He says something will happen to me. I could be run over by a truck."
Or shot in the head, Foley thought, taking Little Jimmy through the house to the kitchen where Dawn was pouring martinis.
"My mind was changed for me," she said. "No tequila, no margaritas. So I made a pitcher of silver bullets, Little Jimmy's favorite cocktail, and for my new friend, Jack Foley, my first bank robber."
Little Jimmy said, "You mean your new lover, don't you? He hasn't done it to you by now he's mine," and raised his glass to Foley. "Satud."
Foley raised his. He watched Little Jimmy take a sip, smack his lips, slide the rest of the martini down and lower the glass, looking at Foley again.
"Your time with Cundo, you always live together?"
"We were in different housing," Foley said, "but we saw each other just about every day. Took walks around the yard."
"He needed someone and you were there."
"The only time I patted him on the ass," Foley said, "was to get him to jog, run around the yard. He said, 'For what? I weigh one hundred twenty-eight pounds all my fucking life.' " Foley said, "I want you to know Cundo and I were friends inside-"
"And you owe him thirty grand, he tole me you don't have to pay it back."
"More than thirty," Foley said. "But I won't ever tell him how you feel. You know why? I don't blame you."
"Yeah, he tole me to pay your lawyer. You know what else? Twenty-eight hundred to the hacks for favors. His five years at Starke I paid out almost ten grand for gifts. Two hundred dollars to a tailor at Glades. You believe it?"
"That's how it is," Foley said, "you're in the life and you don't pay up front for what you want? You don't get it. Cundo makes money inside selling juice and taking bets on the ball games. He makes it outside watching the real estate market, buying and selling homes," and thought Little Jimmy was having a stroke.
"You believe is his idea, a fucking go-go dancer? You think he knows anything of business, of real estate, different investment opportunities? No, with him is the sports book, the old guys working the phones. Is like he's back in Miami. I tell him on the phone how we doing. I say why don't we cut out being bookies? Stop trying to compete with Vegas and the online casinos, man. I tell him I think we should buy foreign stocks and watch the euro. I say, 'You like that idea?' You know what he say to me, very serious? 'You ever see a snake eat a bat?'»
"He sold blow to movie stars," Foley said. "Give him that."
"You know why they never took him to trial?"
"They didn't want to burn their snitch."
"Tha's what he tole you? No, they not gonna waste their time if all they getting is me. I'm the one making deliveries. I'm in the kitchen rolling joints while he's entertaining movie stars. Choo know something? Listen, they could have put me away, but who the fuck am I? Waste a good snitch on me? They don't have enough to convict Cundo, so they send him to Florida where he can do life or be electrocuted, what they were thinking."
"But he does seven and a half," Foley said, "and he's out next week."
He watched Little Jimmy shake his head. "Who you think found the girl lawyer? For a flat fifty-k win or lose?"
"Megan Norris," Foley said.
"Tha's the one. Megan, she offers what look like a cool deal, no trial. But I think it was to make sure he does time. She only pretend to like him."
"Hey, I had her too," Foley said. "She gets up in the morning she's out to win." He turned to Dawn and told her about Jimmy's blood oath to stay loyal to Cundo. "I asked him, 'What if you get tired of playing along? You decide to clean out the accounts and take off?'»
Dawn said, "He's afraid Cundo will come after him." "I'm not afraid he will," Little Jimmy said, "I know he will. He tole me."
Foley said, "What do you think he'd do?" "Kill me. What else you think?" "Jimmy's sure of it," Dawn said.
"He already kill six guys in his life," Jimmy said. "Wha's another one?"
"Six?" Foley said. "I thought he was only up to four."
"He was at Starke," Jimmy said, "he had two cons done for him. Set afire in their cells, burnt alive, man, they can't do nothing but scream."
"He told you that?"
"Who do you think paid the guys did it? Listen, everything he tole you he did? Was never him, was me."