Росс Томас - The Singapore Wink

“What kind?”

“Name it. He’s introduced numbers; he is most prominent in the loansharking business, and he has branched out lately into business insurance, or so I understand.”

“You mean the protection racket.”

“If you prefer.”

“You understand from whom?”

Cole rose and joined me at the fireplace. He gazed into it while I warmed my back. “In my dealings with the government, Mr. Cauthorne, there is as I mentioned earlier a certain amount of mutual accommodation. Quid pro quo, if you like. The government knows that Angelo is not dead and that he was in Cebu and Hong Kong and they also know what he’s doing in Singapore.”

“And that’s where you got the pictures of him,” I said. “From the government.”

“From the government,” he said.

“All right,” I said. “It’s clear so far. But why did he have to pretend to be dead?”

“Because he didn’t want to get married.”

Someone sighed deeply and I was almost surprised when I realized that it had been me. “You said it was a little complicated.”

“Yes, I did, didn’t I?” Cole said.

“Shall we try it again?”

“It’s not really all that complicated; it just takes a while.”

“I’ve made it this far; I may even go the distance.”

Cole nodded. “I’m sure that you will, Mr. Cauthorne.”

He moved back to his leather chair and sank into it. For the first time the strain that he was under seemed apparent. His hands twitched slightly and he kept crossing and uncrossing his legs.

“Marriage among my sponsors and their associates is a most serious matter. Virtually all of them are Catholic, at least in name, and divorce is uncommon, if not rare. They marry for life and because of the rather unusual nature of their businesses, if you will allow the term, the children of one group of my sponsors tend to marry the children of another group.”

“I’ve heard that they are called families, not groups.”

“All right. We’ll use that term, if you prefer.”

“Angelo was quite popular among the members of a certain New York family which is headed by Joe Lozupone. No doubt you’ve heard of him?”

I nodded.

“In fact, Lozupone was so taken with Angelo that he flew down to Washington to see me. His proposal was that Angelo marry his daughter, Carla.”

“Why didn’t he ask Angelo?”

“Because this is the way that things are arranged. There would be a substantial dowry, of course, and Angelo would be welcomed into the family firm, if he so desired.”

“What happened?”

“I approached Angelo who was in Washington on one of his periodic visits. He agreed and promptly hit me up for a loan of fifteen thousand dollars. I think he was gambling heavily. I informed Lozupone and he informed his daughter who was then a sophomore, I believe, at Wellesley. Lozupone himself never got past the eighth grade.”

“Then what?”

“Lozupone held an engagement party in New York. The girl, whom Angelo hadn’t seen in years, came down from Massachusetts and Angelo flew in from Los Angeles or Las Vegas or wherever he was. They literally despised each other on sight. Angelo told me the engagement was off and flew back to Los Angeles that same night. I immediately assumed my role as counselor and tactfully suggested to Lozupone that the engagement be a long one — long enough to allow the girl to get her degree and perhaps even take a tour of Europe. Lozupone readily agreed. I telephoned Angelo, and for once he was amenable. He even called Lozupone and borrowed five thousand dollars from him on the strength of his new status as future son-in-law. Well, two years ago Carla was nearing graduation and the Lozupone family was making plans for a rather sizeable wedding.”

“And it was then that Angelo decided to play dead,” I said.

“Yes. But he needed money and that’s when he came to Washington and blew the safe. Then he disappeared in Singapore and began to blackmail me a few months later. Lozupone, of course, has his own sources and he’s found out that Angelo isn’t dead. He’s now furious and has directed his anger at me. Our relations cooled, then grew strained, and finally disintegrated. Lozupone announced to his family, and to the four other families in New York, that he considered me his enemy and Joe Lozupone, I needn’t add, is a most dangerous enemy to have.”

I shrugged. “Why don’t you get rid of him like you got rid of the others?”

“I’ll answer that in a moment. When Angelo’s death was reported, Carla went into mourning. When it was discovered that he was alive, Lozupone swore that Angelo would marry her. It was an affair of honor to him and he takes such things seriously. In an effort to heal the breach between Lozupone and myself, a representative of another New York family approached me and suggested that I provide Carla with an appropriate escort to Singapore where she intends to find Angelo and to marry him. I agreed. I agreed to provide you, Mr. Cauthorne.”

“Then you made a mistake,” I said. “But you still haven’t told me why you just don’t take Lozupone out of circulation by dropping some of that mysterious evidence in the mail to the FBI or somebody.”

“Because, Mr. Cauthorne, I don’t have it. Angelo has the only copies that exist. And I need that information. I need it very much and this charade with the girl Carla will give me breathing time.”

“He’ll still keep on blackmailing you; he’s smart enough to have had other copies made.”

“I’m not worried about the blackmail, Mr. Cauthorne. I’m worried about Lozupone. Angelo can be bought; Lozupone cannot. The only thing that concerns me about Angelo is that nothing must happen to him, or the blackmail material will be promptly forwarded to New York by a third party. The arrangement wheezes with age, but it works.”

“You’re in trouble, Mr. Cole,” I said. “It’s almost a pity that I can’t help you.”

Cole gripped the arms of his chair and leaned towards me. His eyes no longer twinkled or flashed behind the thick glasses. They seemed to grow still and flat. His tone lost its warmth when he spoke and his voice had the accents of someone who had grown up in East Harlem, the hard way.

“Don’t give me that shit, Cauthorne. There’s a phone on my desk. All I have to do is pick it up and by tomorrow morning your partner’s wife will be in the hospital with acid burns and they aren’t easy to fix.”

“Don’t try it,” I said.

“I have nothing to lose,” he said and I hoped that his threat was as empty as his voice.

I looked at him for what seemed to be minutes, but it could have been only five seconds or so. “You never really got all the way out of it, did you?”

“Out of what?”

“The gutter.”

“This is no game, no make-believe, sonny boy. For the sake of your physical as well as mental health you’ve got two things to do. You’ll take the girl Carla to Singapore and you’ll also retrieve the documents from Angelo.”

“How?”

“I don’t know how. That’s your job. Use the girl. Charm her. Tell Angelo you’ll get her — and the family, especially the family — off his back in exchange for the documents. Figure it out yourself. That’s what you’re being paid fifty thousand dollars to do.”

I made the decision then, the decision that I had known I would make all along. I rose and started towards the door.

“Acid, Cauthorne,” Cole called after me. “You’re forgetting the acid.”

I stopped and turned. “I’m not forgetting anything. I’ll go, but not because of anything you’ve said. I’m going for myself and I’m not taking any jilted female with me.”

“That’s part of it,” he said. “I need the time.”