Benny Muscles In

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Before he went to the village he called Scotty once more, but he knew it wouldn’t mean a thing. It was nighttime and he drove to the village slowly. He bought the extra in the drugstore and drove back to Alverato’s place.

“Dope Ring Smashed,” it said.

Holding the paper down on the desk as if it were going to blow away, he read every word.

“Acting upon an anonymous tip, the combined striking force of the Coast Guard and F.B.I. pulled one of the most spectacular raids…”

He knew that part of it.

“… resulting in the arrest of the right-hand man to a local underworld czar.”

They got Birdie.

“… virtual hand-to-hand combat for the possession of a watertight container of pure heroin. During the course of the battle the notorious Agrippino Alverato, kingpin of the local syndicate, met a grisly fate at the hands of a fearless Coast Guard commander who-”

Big Al!

“… pronounced dead from spinal injury.” And so that left no one.

“Further important arrests are imminent.”

Benny pushed himself away from the desk and stared at the far wall. There was a picture hanging on it, a picture of something he couldn’t make out He noticed that his hands were shaking again. He balled his fists, slowly at first, thumped them on the desk, both of them, harder, then hard and fast like drumsticks.

It brought him around. It came over him like the cold sting of ice, the sudden change in pace and the determination. He went to the kitchen and drank black coffee. His face didn’t tell a thing now.

“Dope Ring Smashed,” it had said in the paper. He thought about it then and saw that what was smashed was a man named Pendleton, a man named Alverato, and nothing else.

They had the shipment, and that was all. One shipment gone and nobody left to know the story. Birdie knew part of the story, but Birdie never talked. Benny Tapkow knew the whole story; the in, the out, and all the small details. Including those that even Alverato hadn’t known about.

So this was the real beginning, the Big Deal right in his lap. He sat down at the desk again.

The first call was to O’Toole, Levinson, and Levinson. He told them about Birdie, about arranging bail and preparing for Birdie’s defense.

Next he called a professional who lived in Yonkers and gave him the name and address of a purser. The professional was to pick up his advance from the office of Imports, Inc., and do a job with a purser.

A phone call to Alverato’s Construction Enterprises, Inc., got him the telephone number of the accountant for the firm.

“This is Benny Tapkow I’m sending a man from the O’Toole firm over to your place. Get your books from the safe and wait for the man in your car. I’m setting up a place for you so you guys can get to work on those books starting right now and all night. You heard about Alverato?”

“Yes, sir.”

The next call was to Squinty Gold, who was head man for the pushers; then to Edna Convair, who handled the houses; a call to Lucky Black to tell him to shut down every game he had floating around town. There were a few others, all with the same kind of message: Pull in all operations and lie low. They said yes, sir, Mr. Tapkow, and some of them called him Benny.

Two hours later he was through. He did just one more thing. He got an ax from a servant and knocked the button off a little safe behind a bookshelf. Benny took out what he found there and the folded list of Italian cities and put everything in other places of his own choosing.

Then he ate in the kitchen, smoked two cigarettes, and called Scotty again. Still nothing on Pat. He went upstairs to bed.

The extra lay in a wastebasket somewhere. “Dope Ring Smashed,” it had said.

They all got another phone call from Benny at eight the next morning. At ten they were in the office of Imports, Inc., where Benny showed them into a room to the rear.

He wasn’t the tallest in the bunch and he didn’t have a big voice, but they sat and listened because he never doubted that they would. Lucky Black was there, and Edna Convair, Squinty Gold, De Marco, and a man who had come in from Saratoga. One of the Levinsons had come too.

“Where’s Hogan?” Benny asked.

They shrugged, not knowing why Hogan hadn’t shown up.

“Everything under control, like I said last night?” Benny looked from one to the other.

They nodded.

“It’s gonna cost a fortune,” Edna said. She recrossed her legs. They were the only things that hadn’t changed on her through the years.

“It’s worth it.” Benny tapped on a newspaper that stuck out of his pocket. “Now they found some dead guys out in the country. Not more than five miles from the Beau Brummel. They’re trying to tie it up with the other thing, so for a while we lie low.”

“Takes me more than a day,” Squinty Gold said. His pushers were all over the area. “Besides losing customers, maybe. Perhaps-”

“Haul them in fast or you’ll lose more than customers, Gold. Whatever you got in storage, keep it there. When I tell you to push it again, the price will be double, and when that H is gone there’ll be a new supply ready. I’m arranging it now.”

“Like the last time. Big Al arranged it the last time and look what happened.”

“Big Al is dead,” Benny said. “And so is the guy who tipped the deal.”

They looked at each other and understood.

“Anybody we know?” Edna asked.

“Pendleton.”

They understood that too, because Benny was telling them and nobody had seen a thing about it in any of the papers.

“What about the bail, Levinson?”

“They haven’t set it yet, but judge Nichols-”

“He’s getting the pressure now. I sent a man over this morning.”

For a while longer he gave them instructions, then he left because he had planned a visit to Hogan.

They stayed after he had gone and Squinty Gold said, “Well?”

“Well what? He’s it.”

“I’ll go along with that,” Lucky Black said. “He’s got the pipeline now and it doesn’t look like he makes mistakes.”

They all thought of Hogan, who hadn’t shown up at the meeting.

“And no more Pendleton,” Edna said.

“I’m nervous,” De Marco said.

The man who had come in from Saratoga cleared his throat and they all looked at him. “You ain’t the only one who’s nervous,” he said, but his own voice was steady. “It’s all the same to me. But they’re nervous out West.”

“Out West?”

“They figure all these goings on have left a hole in the syndicate. First Old Man Ager, then Big Al, then Pendleton. They’re nervous.” He crossed his arms.

“But there’s Benny,” somebody said.

“Who’s Benny? They never heard of no Benny.”

“Perhaps we should tell him,” Levinson said. “I have a feeling-”

“You wanna get killed?”

Levinson shrugged. “Tapkow looks good to me,” he said, and then he leaned back, figuring he’d just listen some more.

“Perhaps he looks too good.” Lucky Black looked from one to the other. “Perhaps out West they figure how come there’s suddenly a Benny Tapkow here and just a minute ago there was a big hole?”

“I’m staying out of this,” said the man from Saratoga. “Just thought I’d mention it.” He lit a cigarette and made a noise when he blew out the match. “Just thought I’d mention it because they’re sending somebody over.”

“They’re what? Who’re they sending?”

“The syndicate’s sending them. Just two men from out West.”

“So-is he in or out?”

They didn’t know, one way or the other. And they didn’t feel like deciding, one way or the other.