Mickey Spillane - The Deep

Those laddies had a lot to learn. They could stop humping right now.

The new king was here.

I crossed over to HQ and shoved the door open. It was the first time there was no squeal on the knob. In the old days a low buck drew that duty. You showed the sign or else.

The stairs still had the same carpeted surface. The holes were just bigger, that’s all. There was a dip in the. railing where Bunny Krepto had carved out a chunk with a switchblade the night before he had been killed and up at the top of the landing the broken end had been worn smooth from hundreds of hands passing over the raw end of the break thousands of times.

I pushed the door open with my foot and it swung in without a sound. The guy at the post had his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, watching the to-do up past the bar at the rostrum, a butt dripping from his mouth and his eyes fogged up with hoople juice.

Like the old days, I thought. Nothing much had really changed. Instead of a pack of kids squatting on orange crates and old benches, the elaborate theater seats were filled with gray heads and big bellies and here and there you could spot the faces that had been on the front pages of the tabs the past year.

But their expressions were the same. Flat, unimaginative. But lustful, and that kind made up the best army to crowd out the rest. Benny Mattick was up at the microphone, his Brooklynese still unspoiled. Older and fatter, but still Benny-from-Brooklyn. Still the hot hood-man who had shot his way out of a dozen cop traps and the lad who had peddled a million in horse without ever having an arrest record.

Beside him was Dixie. I looked at the lank figure with the sunken cheeks, surprised that he was still alive and wondered how his arms had stood up under the barrage of needles that had juiced him into so many big ones. His pin stripe had a two-hundred-dollar look and the rock on his middle finger was worth a few grand uncut.

I stood there until the squeal spotted me and swung around with one hand yanking at his pocket. He stopped without getting his hand loose, grinning stupidly.

He said, “You got it?”

I didn’t pull out the card they all carried now. I waited until he’d had a good look at me then peeled my sleeve back so he could see the old K.O. scars engraved on the back of my wrist by a knifeblade.

His face changed then. It was something that always happened to the new ones. That K.O. was prewar and wide enough to stay livid and each period was made with a lit cigarette butt.

I walked to the end of the seats and slid down beside the little guy and said, “Hello, Cat.”

The double take was for real. “Jeez... Deep! When did... ”

“What’s up?”

“Jeez, Deep...”

“I asked you something, Cat.”

“We’re reorganizing, Dep. Jeez, Benny thought...”

“When did he take over?”

Cat swallowed hard, the spit having trouble going down. “Right when Bennett got it. Jeez, Deep. The club’s big. You can’t let things get shook.”

I waved him quiet. From the stand Benny-from-Brooklyn was getting all wound up. He was nominating himself for king and from the look on his face it was all over but the shouting.

The Knights were big. They had loot. They were the protectors of the precinct. They were a political power that had need of a fine hand at the wheel and Benny was the man.

I looked around to see how the others were taking it, and it was still just like the old days. They didn’t like it but they weren’t looking for a showdown, either. They all had that bland, drawn expression that mirrored nothing, accepting what came for the time being, at least.

When Benny turned on his smile I knew the talking was about over. Next they’d take a standing, unanimous vote and go up to the bar for a beer. The others anticipated it too and shuffled in their seats.

Benny said, “Now... if there are no further questions?”

I got up and let the seat slam back. “I got something, Benny.” Beside me Cat coughed nervously and tried to slouch down farther.

All those heads swiveled, frowned against the glare of the lights, squinted at this off-beat note. The murmuring started at the corners and swept inward like a gentle wave. Nobody wanted to be the first to call. At this stage of the game only the kings were on the board.

Benny had let it go too long. It got away from him and he knew it. He tried to stop it, but Dixie nudged him to silence and he said, “Who is that down there?”

I said, “Look hard and you’ll know.”

Then somebody said it from the far side. That one word and all the heads swiveled back fast. They got together in small bunches, passing it on, then Benny got it too. His face grew flushed and Dixie stood there like a stick with a kill-look plastered across his mouth.

When it was real quiet I said, “In case any of you new slobs aren’t familiar with the rules I’m going to tell you. Nobody’s reorganizing anything around here. I’m taking over. Just like that.”

Benny held onto the mike for support. “You watch it, Deep. You’re not coming back here...”

“Come here, Benny.”

You could hear the quiet.

I said it again. “Come here, Benny. Take ten giant steps and three baby ones.”

Up on the little rostrum Benny took his giant step first. Then one more. Then down the stairs. Then he stopped.

“Right here, Benny. One more baby step.”

The red was gone and his face had a pasty look. He was all tongue, trying to keep his lips wet down. He walked up in front of me and stood there. So nobody could miss it I did it real slow. I smashed him one across the chops with my open hand and sent him spinning into the wall with his eyes gone all misty.

Then I said, “Dixie...” and the squeal on the door gasped and beside me Cat edged down a seat.

Dixie didn’t take baby steps. He came in the crabwise walk of his with a flat, deadly grin that meant he had a new hole in his arm tonight. He was flying so high he forgot there were still a few who weren’t scared to death of the shiv he loved so well. I let him get close enough to kiss me off with his eyes, took the blade out of his fingers so fast he never knew I had it until I raked him hard over the ribs where the blood could make a mess for everybody to see. When I hit him his teeth powdered and he fell against Benny-from-Brooklyn and lay there sucking air.

I grinned at all the eyes. “Now you know the rules. This isn’t exactly a democracy. It’s more like a dictatorship and I’m the cheese. We hand it from one to another the way we like and when you think you’re big enough to take over, then try. Just try. Be sure you’re big enough, that’s all.”

When I looked around all the little pig eyes tightened in false smiles. Some turned away, some approved, some hated. But most were scared.

“Some things have changed the last few years,” I told them. “I see new faces. Important people. I know why you’re here and why you’re connected. I’m hoping that none of you try anything spectacular because this kind of business is my kind of business. The organization will continue to move as it did under Bennett until I go over all the affairs. Now... any questions?”

A hand waved from the far side. “Deep...”

“Who is it?”

“Charlie Bizz.”

“Go ahead, Bizz.”

“You in for keeps, Deep?”

“All the way. If there are any other studs feeling hot to make it then you can choose up sides.”

“Roger, Deep. Good to see you, kid.”

I nodded in his direction. “Augie’s picking up all the papers. Don’t give him trouble. I want a roster of members and all the goodies that Bennett kept. Anybody holds out and there’ll be trouble. Just like the old days.”

The face that had been watching me without any expression at all grew a sneer. It belonged to a man whose physical strength was disguised by a layer of fat, but was visible in his eyes and the hatchet slash of his mouth. The sneer was cool, deliberately aimed and calculated.