Andrew Vachss - Two Trains Running

“Politicians poach with promises.”

“And they all make the same ones,” Shalare agreed. “That’s why our strategy is to go right into the heart of those places the opposition isn’t going to waste any time or money on. Places where they believe they already can count on the vote.”

“Locke City.”

“Not just Locke City, Roy. We know your reach goes out way past the city limits.”

“You may be giving me too much credit.”

“More likely, you’re giving us too little. No offense, but we’ve done our homework, too.”

“It’s a massive move you’re proposing.”

“We’ve no dispute about that, Roy. But this game is worth the candle, no matter if it’s all burnt by the end.”

“More like a stick of dynamite than a candle, Mickey.”

“I’ve had those in my hands, too. They work just fine, so long as you throw them quick enough.”

“And accurately.”

“Yes. That’s why we wouldn’t even try this area without going to the man who controls it.”

“Like I said before, there’s those who seem to have a different idea. Or a different ambition, I should say.”

“Dioguardi,” Shalare said.

“I would have put you on that same list,” Beaumont retorted, calm-voiced. “You’ve been coming from different directions, is all.”

“We’ve never interfered in any of your-”

“No. No, you haven’t. And, now that you’ve laid out your cards, I can see why you’ve been buying up people in the statehouse.”

“And I’ll not deny it,” the Irishman said. “But it was never the plan to try and move in on-never mind take over-your operations. Hell, man, when it comes to this part of the state, I’d rather have Royal Beaumont in my corner than the governor himself.”

“That’s what they told you, was it?”

Shalare took a sip of his drink, then raised his eyes to Beaumont’s. “That is what they said, for a fact,” he said, frankly. “We thought there was a hierarchy of some kind. A pyramid, like. So, of course, you start at the top, if you can. But we found out, soon enough, that this state isn’t one pyramid, it’s a whole row of them. And when it comes to picking your pyramid, you don’t look for the tallest one, you look for the one with the broadest base, the one that’s been standing the longest. Because that’s the one that’ll weather any storm.”

“That’s on the money,” Beaumont said. “No matter who wins, we’ll still be standing at the end. So what good would it do me and mine for your man to win the next election? It wouldn’t change anything around here.”

“Ah, that’s exactly it! You don’t want things to change around here. And we’re in a position to help you see that through.”

“That brings us back to Dioguardi, doesn’t it?”

“I do mean Dioguardi. But I don’t mean it as you think I do. We both understand that Dioguardi doesn’t stand among his men as you do among yours. If he vanished like this,” Shalare said, making a hand-washing motion, then flinging his hands apart, “his people would just put another pawn on the table, and keep the game going. We can reach past him. In fact, we already have.”

“The men he recently… lost. That was your work?” Beaumont said.

Oh, this man is a master of his trade, Shalare thought to himself. “It was not,” he replied, sincerely. “We’ve no idea what that was about, but it has nothing to do with this conversation. When I say we reached past Dioguardi, I mean all the way to the people who sent him to Locke City in the first place.”

“Reached past him for what?”

“For a lesson in reality,” Shalare said. “As of the minute I walk out your door, Dioguardi’s intrusions into your affairs are going to stop. Not slack off, not change target-stop. As if they hit a brick wall.”

“When I was a kid, there was a guy, for a dollar, he’d run right into a brick wall,” Beaumont said. “Butt it with his head like a ram.”

“Probably ended up with mush for a brain,” Shalare said.

“Yeah,” Beaumont said. “That’s exactly what happened to him. He started out stupid, and he got stupider. Only thing is, he kept right on doing it… butting that wall.”

“I must be missing your meaning, Roy.”

“This guy, the one who rammed the wall? He kept right on doing it, usually when he was drunk. Until, one day, he must have hit the wall wrong. Dropped dead, right there on the spot.”

“Ah.”

“See, before this guy got all mushy in the head, he thought he could keep hitting that wall forever, and nothing would happen to him,” Beaumont said, speaking slowly and deliberately. “Then, when his brain turned soft, he wasn’t smart enough to stop. Oh, you could get him to stop temporarily. But, soon as he got drunk, he’d go right back to it.”

“Dioguardi’s bosses, they want this as bad as mine do,” Shalare said, underscoring his understanding.

“So you came here to tell me Dioguardi’s going to back off until the election…?”

“He’s not going to be a problem for you, Roy,” Shalare said. “Not now, not ever. And we’ll give you any assurances you want on that score. Any at all.”

1959 October 06 Tuesday 17:29

Tussy awoke to find Dett still in the armchair, watching her. He looks like he hasn’t moved a muscle, she thought, finding the feeling oddly comforting. “That was just what I needed,” she said, throwing off the pink blanket, so that it landed across Fireball. The big cat struggled out from underneath, gave Dett an annoyed look, as if the entire episode had been his fault, and marched off.

“You feel better?” Dett said.

“I feel great,” Tussy said, stretching her arms over her head. “Sometimes, when I’m feeling just… beat, I take one of my little naps, and it always works.”

“Your cat didn’t seem too thrilled.”

“Oh, Fireball thinks this is his couch. But I never take naps in the bed. That’s too much like sleeping. When I use the couch, I never seem to sleep long, even without an alarm clock.”

Dett got to his feet.

“Are you sure you want to drive all the way back to the hotel just to change clothes?” Tussy asked. “It’s… why, it’s after five. I never realized…”

“I didn’t, either. The time, I mean. I wish I could stay here…” Dett’s voice fell into a pit of such despair that Tussy felt the vibration as it landed.

“Well, you certainly don’t have to get all dressed up just to go to a drive-in movie, Walker. I’m not going to change. I mean, I am going to take a shower, but I’m not going to get into a dress or anything.”

“I want to do the same thing.”

“The same… Oh, take a shower? Well, you could do that here, couldn’t you?”

“I… I never thought of that. But I… I mean, I… I don’t have fresh clothes to change into, not with me.”

“Well… all right, then,” Tussy said. She stood on her toes, kissed Dett lightly just to the side of his lips. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

1959 October 06 Tuesday 17:31

“I wonder,” Beaumont said. “You’re not just doing a job, are you, Mickey?”

“What do you mean?”

“When people spend money, it’s either a purchase or an investment.”

“Aye. And, if you’re asking me, is Mickey Shalare some sort of mercenary, the answer is no. I’ve got-all my people have got-a huge stake in this.”

“Yes?” Beaumont said, inviting an explanation.

Shalare took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink. “Yes,” he said, evenly, rejecting the offer.

“Have you ever been beat down?” Beaumont asked, suddenly. “Getting pounded on so bad, by so many people, that you can’t hope to win?”

“Aye,” the Irishman said, gravely.