Andrew Vachss - Two Trains Running

“You say that why?”

“Man had him a straight razor, boss.”

“So? Lots of people shave with a-”

“Yes, sir. I knows that. But the man, he had him a safety razor, besides. Nice new Gillette. And plenty of blades for it, too.”

“I see what you’re saying.”

“That’s right, boss. Some of the baddest men I know, they never walk out they house without one.”

“No guns?”

“Not a one, boss. And a gun, that ain’t something you can hide in a hotel room. Not from Rufus, noways.”

“You did a good job, Rufus. Like you always do.”

“Thank you, boss.” Nah, massah, Mr. Dett, he don’t keep no gun in his room. That’s ’cause he carries it around with him. Just ask Silk, you greaseball motherfucker.

“Now, that list you saw, it’s probably not worth anything,” Dioguardi said. “But remember when I explained to you that time the difference between flat-work and piece-work?”

“Yes, sir! I remember that like it was yesterday, you told me.”

“You ever see a hundred-dollar bill before, Rufus?”

“I seen them, boss. But I never held one.”

“Well, now you are,” Dioguardi said, smiling in the night.

The two men shook hands-Niggers love it when you do that, buzzing through Dioguardi’s mind-and Rufus slipped out of the Imperial and into the welcoming shadows of the vacant lot on Halstead.

1959 October 05 Monday 20:32

“Do you know what any of this stuff is?” Tussy asked Dett, tapping a red-lacquered fingernail against the placard on which the various dishes were listed.

“The only French I know is à la carte.”

“And all I know is à la mode,” she said, making a face. “Do you think we should ask him?”

“The waiter?”

“Or we could just take a guess at something. I mean, how bad could it be, in a place like this?”

“I did this wrong, didn’t I, Tussy?”

“What? You haven’t done anything-”

“I should have asked you where you wanted to eat. Instead of, like you said, putting on a show.”

“You just come out and say what you think, don’t you?”

“Not usually. I’m not that much of a talker.”

“But in your business…”

“Oh, I talk all the time,” Dett said, deflecting. “But that’s, like you said, business talk. Negotiations and all. I meant… with women.”

“You don’t seem like a shy man to me.”

“I just don’t spend a lot of time going out on dates and stuff. I’m always working.”

The waiter hovered.

Tussy and Dett looked at each other.

“Could I have this?” she said to the waiter, touching a line on the menu.

“Certainement, madame. And for monsieur?”

“I’ll try this one,” Dett said, following Tussy’s example and pointing at random.

“What’s your favorite?” she said, as soon as the waiter departed.

“My favorite?”

“Your favorite food. I know it’s not… whatever we just ordered. If you could have anything you wanted, what would it be?”

“Lemon pie,” Dett said, unhesitatingly.

“That’s no meal!”

“You said whatever I wanted.”

Tussy turned in her seat so she was looking directly in Dett’s eyes. “All right, let’s say it would be lemon pie-my lemon pie-for dessert. What would the main course be?”

“Well, I guess… I… I guess I don’t think about food much. Maybe a steak?”

“Uh-huh. And what else? You can’t just have steak and pie!” she said, mock-indignantly. “You need a vegetable at least. You like baked potatoes?”

“Sure.”

“You don’t sound all that excited about it.”

“I like the skins. Not the inside, so much.”

“Do you like salads?”

“I like the stuff they put in salads, but not all mixed together, with dressing all over it.”

“Lettuce and tomatoes?”

“Lettuce. And celery. And radishes. And those little onions.”

“Pearls.”

“Pearls?”

“Pearl onions, that’s what they call them, but I never heard of anyone eating them raw. You like real crunchy stuff, huh?”

“I guess I do. Like I said-”

“-you don’t think much about food,” she interrupted, smiling. “You don’t go out on a lot of dates. And you said you weren’t a gambler. What do you do for fun? Watch television?”

“Not so much,” Dett said.

“How old are you, anyway?” Tussy said, laughing.

“I’m thirty-nine. I was born in-”

“Oh, I was just playing,” she said, a touch of anxiety in her voice. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

The waiter arrived, and ceremoniously presented the food. Tussy and Dett ignored him until he went away.

“This kind of looks like a little steak,” Tussy said, poking dubiously at the meat on her plate. “And yours, it looks like…” She bent over Dett’s plate and sniffed. “Well, I think it’s some kind of fish, but there’s wine in that sauce on it, that’s for sure.”

“The bread’s good,” Dett said, chewing a small morsel he had removed with his fingers. “Anyway, I don’t care. I didn’t come here for the food.”

“Well, I’m not leaving here without tasting everything,” Tussy said. “Gloria, that’s my best friend, she’d kill me if I didn’t describe every square inch of this place, never mind the food.” She resolutely cut off a small piece of the meat on her plate, and popped it into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully for a few seconds before swallowing, and saying, “It’s not steak. It’s… lamb, I think. What about yours?”

Dett forked a morsel into his mouth, swallowed it without chewing. “It’s all right, I guess.”

“Can I try it?”

“This?” he said, nodding at his plate.

“Yes. That way, I can say I had two different meals here. Besides, it might be good.”

“Sure,” Dett said. He reached for his plate, intending to put it before Tussy, but she had already speared a portion with her fork.

“This is good!” she said.

“Let’s switch,” Dett immediately offered.

“Don’t you like-?”

“Like I said, it’s okay. But it’s not what I came here for.”

Tussy held Dett’s eyes for a long second. Then she reached over and switched their plates with professional skill, blushing furiously.

1959 October 05 Monday 21:02

The Gladiators’ dull orange Oldsmobile made its third circuit of the lot on Halstead.

“I know that car,” Sunglasses said to Lacy, as he pointed with a black-gloved finger. “That dark-blue Imperial. It’s Dioguardi’s.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah,” Sunglasses said. “I seen it plenty of times, right in front of that restaurant he owns.”

“You think he’s meeting with that Ace kid?”

“In that spot, who else? It sure as hell isn’t any of the Kings, right? You still want us to drop you off? Two blocks away, it’s their turf. If they spot you…”

“Nobody’s going to spot me,” Lacy said. “That’s why the jacket stays in the car. You know how people are always saying niggers all look alike?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, you know what? I think it works the same way for them when it comes to us. Without my jacket, I’m just… a regular guy. A nothing.”

“Without the jackets, maybe that’s what we all are,” Sunglasses said.

1959 October 05 Monday 21:54

The check was presented in a natural-calfskin case, open on three sides. Dett unfolded it like a book, glanced at the tab, put a hundred-dollar bill inside the folio, and closed it.

“It cost that much?” Tussy said.

“No. There’ll be change.”

“I’m sorry. I know you’re not supposed to-”

“You could never do anything wrong,” Dett said. “Not with me.”

The waiter returned with the portfolio. Tussy seemed relieved to see several bills inside when Dett opened it again. He took some of the money, left the rest, and closed it again.