I was barely listening as Nathan droned. “… and the DeLillo Sisters were twins. You could not tell them apart except that Dorothy DeLillo had a mole on her tukus, but of course only Donahue knew this because the DeLillo Sisters were in vaudeville, not burlesque. Nobody saw Dorothy DeLillo’s tukus except for Donahue because Dorothy DeLillo was very proper except for one time, and that was when she shared a bill with the Great Rulenska. Hypnotists always have Russian names, don’t ask me why. But you never see a hypnotist with an Italian name. Rulenska wasn’t Russian, he was Polish, from New Britain, Connecticut. Why they call this town New Britain I’ll never know because it’s all Polacks there. I stayed one night in New Britain on my way from New Haven to the Catskills…”
There go the DeLillo Sisters, I thought. And I still didn’t know what had happened to Hannigan’s glass eye, either. Not to mention how Nathan had come to teach “Who’s on First” to Lou Costello.
I looked over at Sami, who had a dazed look in the one eye that wasn’t all red and swollen and rapidly closing.
“… because there was a snowstorm. You cannot get a lightbulb changed in New Britain, Connecticut, because there are so many Polacks living there. No Jews either, so just try to get decent deli. A Polish sausage maybe. Sauerkraut, drech.
“In the Catskills they have Jews. More Jews in the Catskills than in Israel. I played the Catskills many times. The delicatessen? Magnificent. Not Wolff’s perhaps, but very good. The one time I played the Catskills after spending an endless night in New Britain, Connecticut, I do my schtick to an empty room. There are maybe twelve Jews plus the waiters in the room. Try making twelve Jews and three waiters who are making no money laugh. They laugh at nothing. A fire maybe they laugh at, because the hotel is losing so much money.
“I told them the joke about the priest and the rabbi. Father Murphy goes up to Rabbi Solomon and says, ‘Sorry about the fire in your synagogue.’ Solomon says, ‘Shhh. It’s tomorrow.’
“Nobody laughed. To them this is not funny. That night, what do you think? I can’t get to sleep, I look out the window of my room, what do I see?”
Nathan had my attention. It finally occurred to me (duh) that what I was hearing was what we graduate- school types recognize as an allegory. Sami, on the other hand, was not really listening, but I don’t think he ever had the advantage of attending graduate school. So he was just staring into the fire. But trained as I am to find symbolism in everything, whether it’s there or not, I was listening, as they say, intently.
“I see Sammy Stein, the hotel owner, sneaking out the back of the restaurant with the gasoline cans. Sammy looks up and sees me. Then he gets into his car and a few minutes later, guess what? The restaurant burns down. I don’t say anything, I mind my own business. What am I going to do, testify?
“A few days later Sammy, that schmuck, calls me, tells me to keep my mouth shut if I know what’s good for me. I decide to go work Vegas for a while. In Vegas, I have friends.”
“What happened with the DeLillo Sisters?” I asked softly.
“Ah,” Nathan said. “Dorothy DeLillo’s mole remained just a rumor until there is a party at Donovan’s after-hours. Everybody wants to see the mole! In a nice way, I mean. Very friendly. Dorothy refuses. Finally Rulenska says, I can make you show the mole.’ Dorothy says, ‘Bullfeathers. I have seen your crummy act a hundred times, it’s a phony.’ Rulenska just laughs, gets out his big pocketwatch and starts to chant, ‘Watch the watch, watch the watch,’ over and over again.’”
Nathan was moving his index finger back and forth across his face.
“ ‘Watch the watch, watch the watch. You’re getting sleepy, sleeeepy, sleeeeepy, sleeeeeeeeepy…’”
Sami’s good eye was just about closed. His chin touched his chest.
“Sleeeeeeeeepy… sleeeeeeeeeeepy… sleeeeeeeeeeeeeepy…”
I went for him.
Sami opened his eyes and raised the gun.
I punched him in the face.
A knockout.
Chapter 21
Yeah, okay, he was five-three, already prone, and had previous wounds, but it was still a knockout.
I grabbed the gun from his limp hand.
“A regular Benny Leonard you are,” Nathan said.
I got into the spirit of camaraderie and said, “A regular Rulenska you are.”
After all, Nathan and I had teamed up to the get the. gun. Me with my lightning moves, he with his hypnotist memories.
“There was no Rulenska, you stupid,” Nathan said. “I made it up.”
“Bullfeathers.”
“The emmis.”
I looked down at Sami’s unconscious body.
“What are we going to do with him?” I asked.
“Shoot him.”
“We can’t just shoot him, Nathan.”
“Why not?” Nathan asked. “ He was going to shoot us.”
This was true. It was also true that Heinz was probably still planning on it. But that was another discussion.
“We don’t have anything to tie him up with,” I said. I didn’t want to take a chance on getting that close to Sami anyway. I wasn’t all that confident about my chances for another stunning knockout. “Let’s just leave him where he is and keep the gun on him.”
“Simpler to shoot him,” Nathan said. “You want I should do it?”
“No.”
“I could poke his other eye,” Nathan offered.
“You’re a vicious old man.”
“After what he’s put me through?”
Then he told me about seeing Sami come out of the house with gasoline cans and drive off. How he thought that Sami saw him. How Sami had called him and threatened to kill him and how he had run off to Vegas.
“Is that why you kept stalling?” I asked. “Why you took the car?”
“An Einstein, this boy is.”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I thought you were with the insurance company,” Nathan said. “That you were going to make me testify.”
“But why get in Sami’s car?”
“What was I going to do? Run?” Nathan asked. “I had almost escaped at the men’s room when you stopped me. Schlemiel. You are dumber maybe than Lou Costello, who did not know salami from pastrami.”
“True,” I said, “but I have a wicked punch.”
“What wicked punch?” he asked. “You knocked a sleeping man unconscious. My grandmother could have made that punch and she’s been dead forty years!”
“Yeah, but he had a gun,” I pointed out.
“He was asleep!” Nathan yelled. “I put him to sleep! What more did you want, I should maybe put a gas mask on his nose, then you could punch him? I should tie up the sleeping man first, maybe? Then you could be a hero and punch the sleeping man?!”
I said, “He was clearly awake before I-It was Lou Costello who brought the salami sandwich to Arthur Minsky?”
Nathan raised his arms, “What do you think I’ve been trying to tell you?!”
Sami woke up. He lifted his head and moaned, “Don’t hit me anymore, okay?”
“Don’t hypnotize you, you mean,” Nathan said.
Sami rubbed his head and looked around. He saw the gun in my hand.
“Heinz isn’t going to like this,” he said.
“Who is Heinz, anyway?” I asked.
“A Nazi,” Nathan said.
“A Nazi?” I asked. “Do you know this guy?
“Who needs to know him?” Nathan asked. “With a name like Heinz? Nazi!”
“That doesn’t necessarily-”
“He is,” Sami said.
“Is what?” I asked.
“A Nazi,” Sami said.
“Aha!” said Nathan.
“And he sent you to kill Nathan?” I asked.
“It’s true,” Sami admitted.
“A Nazi and an Arab want to kill a Jew,” Nathan said. “So what’s new?”
“And he’s coming here to pick you up?”
Sami said, “After I dump your bodies.”
“And you were willing to do all of this for an insurance claim?!” And I thought I was cynical.
Sami shook his head. “Not for the insurance money, okay? For the lawsuit.”