“No thanks, Max. I can only stay a minute. Some friends are coming over tonight, and I have to be home. Just people in the block, but I’m stuck as host.”
God, are we respectable, Stone thought, taking his drink from Larry. “Well, let’s get this wound up then,” he said. “Debby, go downstairs and see there’s plenty of food in. Some characters are coming in for poker.” He nodded at her to get going. “Some hot corned beef would be a good idea.”
“Okay, I’ll tell Alex to send out for some,” she said. She smiled and sauntered from the room.
Lagana put his hands in his suitcoat pockets and turned to Larry. “Well, you messed up that Bannion job nicely,” he said, in a tone that matched his eyes. “Got it smeared all over the papers, and didn’t get your man. Nice work, Larry.”
Color came into Larry’s face. “There won’t be any more slipups,” he said. “I thought the first arrangement was sure-fire. We cased it for a week, and Bannion put the car away every night. I—”
“It was stupidly handled from the start,” Lagana said. “You should begin to use your head. A bomb in a car points right at us, gives the papers a perfect excuse to squawk. Hell, maybe you should get in the advertising business ”
“Next time it will be nice and quiet,” Larry said, trying to keep the anger from his voice.
“No, you’re out of it,” Lagana said. “Max, did you get a man?”
“Yeah, a guy from Chicago. He’s flying in, gets here tonight. I understand he’s good,” Stone said, looking at his drink.
“What do you mean I’m out of it?” Larry said.
“Well, what do you think I mean?” Lagana said, glancing at him sharply. “You’re out of it, that’s all. You leave Bannion alone. Max has got an out-of-town man to handle it.”
Larry glanced at Stone, feeling cheaply used. “You might’ve told me, Max,” he said.
Stone laughed at Larry’s sullen expression. He liked Larry, and knew he was smart and tough; but he was cocky and it wouldn’t hurt to knock him down a peg. “Bannion is out of your class, I guess,” he said. “We need an old-timer to handle him.”
“He’s just another stupid cop,” Larry said.
“You’ve got things to learn,” Lagana said. “Bannion’s not stupid. He was on our neck fast enough on that job Big Burrows did.” He glanced at Stone. “And that’s another thing. That was a stupid job, too. I gave you these two things to handle because the boys in Central and Northeast have got real trouble. And you loused them both up. This isn’t Nineteen Twenty. Tossing that babe out on the pike was just another bit of unwelcome advertising.” He turned to Larry. “You know what Bannion’s been doing, I suppose? He’s checking to find out who made that bomb.”
Larry smiled slightly. “Sure I know about it,” he said. “He’s tramping all over the city, wearing out his big, flat feet. And it won’t do him one damn bit of good.”
“You’re sure?”
“The guy who made it is dead. He was a lunger. I called him to tell him to get out of town when I heard what Bannion was doing, but the people he stayed with told me he was sick, was on his way to the hospital.” Larry grinned. “So I crossed my fingers and called the hospital a couple of hours later. They told me he’d died.”
“Well, that’s one break,” Lagana said. “I want you both to understand this; everything has to be quiet until elections. I don’t want one damn thing in the papers. The Bannion deal is the only exception. Got that, Max?”
Stone nodded and sipped his drink.
Lagana buttoned his overcoat and glanced at his watch. “Well, I’ve got to get going,” he said.
“By the way, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about,” Larry said.
“Yes?”
Larry told him about the seaman he’d met, and of the man’s contacts in Italy, and that he had been able to bring in three pounds of heroin. “It’s first rate stuff, all set to distribute,” he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.
Lagana stared at him in silence, his eyes cold and expressionless. Then he said: “Okay, you buy it from him, Larry. With your money. Then you wrap it up with a brick and throw it in the river. Tomorrow! Got that?”
“But, hell—”
“Goddamnit, you seem to be getting dumber instead of smarter,” Lagana cut in angrily. “There isn’t going to be even one ounce of dope in this town. Get that through your thick head.” He paced the floor, his thin face white with rage. “I don’t like discussions, I don’t like having to tell you things twice. I tell you once, and that’s all. Do you understand?”
“Sure, sure, I understand,” Larry said, swallowing hard.
Stone nodded and sipped his drink. This was more like it, like the old days. The boss was tough enough and smart enough to handle anything.
Lagana frowned slightly and looked from Larry to Stone. “Things are changing in this country,” he said, in a quieter voice. “A man who doesn’t see that hasn’t got eyes. Kefauver didn’t do us any good. But it’s been building before that. The people are sick of us. We ran things the way we wanted to for a good long time. Dope, prostitution, gambling, political machines in our back pocket, we had the money, with strength to laugh at anyone in our way. But it’s changed, I tell you. And if these coming elections go against our friends, we may not be able to make friends with the new crowd. With an honest ticket, which they’ve got, I’m sorry to say, we’ll have Cranston to worry about the day after the elections.”
“Cranston?” Larry shrugged. “The old snow-top in the Hall? What’s special about him?”
“That old man is trouble,” Lagana said. “Remember that. You’ll stay out of jail longer if you do.” He looked at Larry speculatively shaking his head. “You’re not getting this, I see,” he said. “Well, like they do with kids in school, I’m going to tell you a little story. Try to get the point. Once upon a time,” Lagana said dryly, “there was a guy in New York w-ho ran the toughest union in the city. He was a friend of mine. This was in twenty-five. And then, being president of a big union in New York was like being the Democratic Candidate in Alabama. You were in. My friend Pete was a big man in local politics. His men made up the toughest union this country ever saw, and they breathed when Pete told ‘em to. Pete was a king of the speaks. He had a manager and five waiters at his table, and nobody else in the joint got served until Pete was happy. He lapped it up like a thirsty cat.”
Lagana put a cigarette in his mouth, and turned his head to find the match Gordon struck for him. “Thanks. Well, one night Pete had a big party and he saw a man across the room getting just as much attention as he was getting. This burned Pete up; he yelled for the manager to find out who it was. The manager told him it was Legs Diamond. You’ve heard the name?” Lagana said to Larry.
“Yeah, sure,” Larry said, annoyed at the sarcasm. “So what happened?”
“Well, Pete stamped over to Diamond’s table. They tell me you’re ‘Legs Diamond,’ he says. Diamond looked up at him and said, ‘So what if I am?’ Well, Pete was a fancy dresser and he wore diamond clips on his garters. So he put a foot on Diamond’s table, rolled up his trousers and then, being a jerk, said to Diamond, ‘If you’re such a rough one, try and shoot one of them clips off!’ Diamond took a thirty-eight from under his arm and shot a hole through Pete’s leg. Then he said, ‘Get away from my table, lush, or I’ll put the next one in your head.’ ” Lagana smiled. “That’s all there was to it.”
“Well, what happened next?” Larry said.
“Nothing happened, not one damn thing,” Lagana said softly. “And that, if you’ve got the brains to see it, is the point of the story. Pete was carried out, and Legs Diamond went on with his dinner. Legs was a bigger man in New York than the boss of New York’s biggest and toughest union. The cops heard about it, and looked the other way. That was the kind of weight we used to have; but it’s gone, gone forever, Larry. Now we try to look as respectable as possible, and keep out of the papers. Do you get what I’m telling you, Larry.”