It Was a Very Bad Year

SIXTY-FOUR

I asked Jerry if he wanted hot dogs but he said not unless they were from Nathan’s of Nedicks. We settled on burgers and I directed him to a small burger shack I’d never taken him to before.

‘For a guy who’ll eat anythin’ you’re a real hot dog snob,’ I said to him when we sat down at an outdoor table with baskets of burgers and fries.

‘Ain’t my fault,’ he said, with a shrug. ‘Stuff in Brooklyn is real good. Come on, Mr G. Pizza? You got good pizza out here?’

I had to admit, Brooklyn pizza was still the best I’d ever had.

‘We gonna call the dick today?’

‘Yeah,’ I said, ‘right after this. He doesn’t have as many ears on the street as I do, but he’s got a network.’

‘You know a helluva lot of people, Mr G.,’ Jerry said. ‘This photographer ain’t got a chance of stayin’ hid — unless he left town.’

‘Even then we might be able to find out where he went.’

‘What about hired help?’ Jerry asked. ‘If he hired them two jamokes at the warehouse he could hire some more.’

‘Cheap labor,’ I said. ‘He either can’t or won’t lay out the dough for prime help.’

‘That’s good for us,’ Jerry said. ‘I’m gettin’ another burger. Want one?’

‘I’m still workin’ on this one,’ I said. ‘I don’t inhale food the way you do.’

He went off and came back with not only another burger, but another basket of fries. I still had half mine left. We were washing everything down with Cokes.

‘Got any more people to hit today?’ he asked. ‘Some real lowlifes?’

‘You don’t think we talked to any lowlifes today?’

‘That Dewey looked like a scumbag.’

‘Not Candy and Darla?’

‘They’re just whores, Mr G.,’ he said. ‘Whores are OK. They’re just workin’ girls.’

‘Well,’ I said, ‘we could go out to some of the ranches.’

‘What ranches?’ Jerry asked. ‘We gonna talk to cowboys?’

‘Brothels, Jerry,’ I said. ‘Whorehouses.’

‘You call them ranches? Are they legal?’

‘No, but they should be,’ I said. ‘Someday they will be, when the politicians get their heads out of their asses.’

‘So they makin’ payoffs?’

‘Oh, yeah,’ I said. ‘They pay through the nose to operate.’

‘You think Irwin went to one of ’em?’

‘Not if he’s cheap,’ I said. ‘Rather than go out there, I’ll just make some calls.’

We finished eating and I went to a nearby pay phone to call Danny. I found him in his office, answering his own phone,

‘Where’s Penny?’

‘Out. What’s up?’

I told him I was spreading the word on Irwin, and wanted him to do the same.

‘He may be on a bike.’

‘A bike? Like a Schwinn?’

‘No, like a Harley.’

‘Irwin?’

‘Last time I saw him.’ I told him about the warehouse.

‘You let him get away?’

‘Don’t rub it in,’ I said.

‘What about Jerry?’

‘He was dancing with the Rienza brothers at the time.’

‘The guys who jumped you in Reno?’ he asked. ‘Where are they now?’

‘In jail. Hargrove’s keepin’ ’em under wraps.’

‘How do you stand with him now?’

I explained how he’d taken me from the plane to an interview room, where we talked.

‘Like human beings?’

‘Believe it or not,’ I said, ‘we came to an understanding.’

‘I don’t believe it,’ he said.

‘I think he still sees a chance to get in on the kidnapping,’ I said. ‘Like catching the last one.’

‘Barney Irwin?’

‘Well, he’s related to one of ’em,’ I said. ‘That’s close enough for Hargrove.’

‘OK, so I’ll put the word out on Irwin,’ he said. ‘Between you and me we got the town wired. We’ll find the bastard.’

‘Call me when you do.’

‘You do the same.’

We agreed and hung up. When I got back to the table I couldn’t believe Jerry had another basket of fries.

‘What the fuck?’ I said.

‘I got lonely.’