Manhunt. Volume 3, Number 7, July, 1955

I liked Harry. He was a good guy. It was going to be too bad for the guy who turned him in.

1

When you’re the head man, you’re supposed to get the rumble first. Then you feed it to the other kids, and you read off the music, and if they don’t like it that’s their hard luck. They can take off with or without busted heads.

So that’s why I was sore when Aiello comes to me and starts making like a kid with an inside wire. He’s standing in a doorway, with his jacket collar up around his nose, and first off I think he’s got some weed on him. Then I see he ain’t fixing to gather a stone, but he’s got this weird light in his eyes anyway.

“What’re you doing, A?” I said.

Aiello looked over his shoulder as if the bulls were after him. He takes my arm and pulls me into the doorway and says, “Danny, I got something hot.”

“What?” I said. “Your head?”

“Come down, man,” he told me.

“Watch the talk,” I warned him.

“Danny, what I mean this is something.”

“So tell it.”

“Harry Manzetti,” he said. He said it in a kind of a hoarse whisper, and I looked at him funny, and I figured maybe he had just hit the pipe after all.

“What about him?”

“He’s here.”

“What do you mean, here? Where here?”

“In the neighborhood.”

“You’re full of it,” I told him.

“I swear to God, Danny. I seen him.”

“Where?”

“I was going up to Louise’s. You know Louise?”

“I know Louise.”

“She lives on the seventh floor. I spot this guy up ahead of me, and he’s walking with a limp and right off I start thinking of the guys in the neighborhood who limp, and all I come up with is Carl. And then I remember Harry.”

“There must be a million guys who limp.”

“Sure, but name me another one, dad. Anyway, I got a look at his face. It was Harry.”

“How’d you see his face?”

“He went up the seventh floor, too. I was knocking on Louise’s door, and this guy with the limp goes down the end of the hall and sticks a key in the latch. Then he remembers I’m behind him, and he turns to cop a look, and that’s when I see his face. It was Harry, all right.”

“What’d you do?”

“Nothing. I turned away fast so he wouldn’t see I spotted him. Man, that cat’s wanted in more states...”

“You tell Louise this?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Dad, I’m sure.” Aiello looked at me peculiar, and then he turned his eyes away.

“Who’d you tell, A?”

“Nobody. Danny, I swear it on my mother’s eyes. You the first one I’m talking to.”

“How’d he look?” I said.

“Harry? Oh, fine. He looked fine, Danny.”

“Whyn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I just now seen you!” Aiello complained.

“Whyn’t you look for me?”

“I don’t know. I was busy.”

“Doing what? Standing in a doorway?”

“I was...” Aiello paused. “I was looking for you. I figured you’d come by.”

“How’d you figure that?”

“Well, I figured once the word leaked, you’d be around.”

“How’d the word leak if you’re the only one knows it?”

“Well, I figured...”

Aiello stopped talking, and I stopped listening. We both heard it at the same time, the high scream of a squad car siren.

“Cops,” I said.

And then we heard another siren, and then the whole damn block was being busted up all at once, sirens screaming down on it from all the side streets.

2

In fifteen minutes, every damn cop in the city was on our block. They put up their barricades, and they hung around behind their cars while they figured what to do. I spotted Donlevy in the bunch, too, strutting around like a big wheel. He had me in once because some jerk from the Blooded Royals took a slug from a zip gun, and he figured it was one of my boys who done it, and he tried to hang it on me. I told Donlevy where he could hang his phony rap, and I also told him he better not walk alone on our block after dark or he’d be using his shield for a funeral emblem. He kicked me in the butt, and told me I was the one better watch out, so I spit at his feet and called him a name my old man always uses, and Donlevy wasn’t hip to it, so he didn’t get too sore, even though he knew I was cursing. So he was there, too, making like a big wheel, with his tin pinned to his coat so that everybody could know he was a cop. All the bulls were wearing their tin outside, so you could tell them from the people who were just watching. There were a lot of people in the streets now, and the cops kept shoving them back behind the barricades which they’d set up in front of the building where Harry was. It didn’t take an Einstein to figure that somebody’d blown the whistle on Harry and that the bulls were ready to try for a pinch. Only thing, I figured, they didn’t know whether he was heeled or not, and so they were making their strategy behind their cars, afraid to show their stupid faces in case he was heeled. I’d already sent Aiello for the boys, and I hung around on the outside of the crowd now because I didn’t want Donlevy to spot me and start getting wise. Also, there were a lot of bulls all over the place, and outside of the tin you couldn’t tell the bulls from the people without a scorecard, and nobody was selling scorecards. So when a bull’s back was turned and the tin couldn’t be seen, he looked just like anybody else — and Christ knows what bull would spot me somewhere doing something, and I didn’t want to take chances until all the boys were with me.

There was a lot of uniformed brass around the cars, too, and they all talked it up, figuring who was going to be the first to die, in case Harry was carrying a gun. Harry was born and raised right in this neighborhood, and all the kids knew him from when he used to be king of the hill. And Harry was always heeled, even in those days, either with brass knucks or a switch knife or a razor or a zip gun, and later on he had a .38 he showed the guys. That was just before he lammed out — the time he knocked off that crumb from uptown. I remember once when Harry cut up a guy so bad, the guy couldn’t walk. I swear. I mean it. He didn’t only use the knife on the guy’s face. He used it all over so the guy couldn’t walk later, that guy was sorry he tangled with a customer like Harry, all right. They only come like Harry once in a while, and when you got a Harry in your neighborhood, you know it, man. You know it, and you try to live up to the rep, you dig me? You got a guy like Harry around, well hell man, you can’t run the neighborhood like a tea party. You got certain standards and ideals, I guess you would call them. So we was all kind of sorry when Harry had to take off like that, but of course he was getting all kinds of heat by that time, not only from the locals who was after him for that crumb uptown, but also he was getting G-heat because the word was he transported some broads into Connecticut for the purpose of being illegal, leastways that’s the way they read it off on him at the lineup, and I know a guy who was at the lineup personally that time, so this is straight from the horse’s mouth.

But if those cops were wondering whether or not Harry was heeled, I could have saved them a lot of trouble if they wanted to ask me. I could tell them Harry was not only heeled but that he was probably heeled to his eyeballs, and that if they expected to just walk in and put the arm on him, they had another guess coming, or maybe two or three. It didn’t make one hell of a big difference anyhow, because the cops looked as if they took along their whole damn arsenal just to pry Harry out of that seventh floor apartment. The streets were really packed now with people and cops and reporters and the emergency cop truck, and I expected pretty soon we would have President Eisenhower there to dedicate a stone or something. I began to wonder where the hell the boys were, because the rooftops were getting lined pretty fast, and if the cops and Harry were going to shoot this thing out, I wanted to watch him pick them off. And unless we got a good spot on the roof, things would be rugged. I was ready to go looking for Aiello when he comes back with Ferdy and Beef.

Ferdy is a guy about my height and build, except he’s got straight black hair and brown eyes, and my hair is a little curly and my eyes are not brown really, they’re amber — that’s what Marie says, and she ought to know, dad. I been going with Marie since we was both thirteen, and that makes it close to three years now, so she knows the color of my eyes, all right.

“This the straight dope?” Ferdy asked. Ferdy used to be on H, but we broke him of it ’cause there’s no room in our bunch for a hophead. We broke him by locking him in a cellar for about two weeks. His own mother didn’t even know where he was. We used to go down there and give him food every day, but that was all. He could cry his butt off, and we wouldn’t so much as give him a stick of M. Nothing till he kicked the heroin monkey. And he kicked it, dad. He kicked it clear out the window. It was painful to watch the poor guy, but it was for his own good, so we let him claw and scream all he wanted to, but he didn’t get out of that cellar. Pot is okay, ’cause it don’t give you the habit, but anybody wants to hang around me, he don’t have no needle marks in his arm. He can bust a joint anytime he likes, but show me a spoon, and show me a guy’s bowing to the White God, and I break his butt for him, that’s the truth, that shows you the kind of guy I am.

“Harry’s up there,” I told Ferdy.

“How you like that?” Beef said. Beef must weigh about two thousand pounds in his bare feet. He don’t talk English so good because he just come over from the old country, and he ain’t yet learned the ropes. But he’s a big one, and a good man to have in the bunch, especially when there’s times you can’t use hardware, like when the bulls is on a purity drive or something. We get those every now and then, but they don’t mean nothing, especially if you know how to sit them out, and we got lots of patience on our street.

“What took you guys so long?” I said.

“A only just reaches us,” Ferdy said.

“A’s turnin’ into a real slowball,” I said. “Look at them goddamn rooftops. How we gonna watch this now?”

The boys looked up and seen the crowd.

“We shove in,” Beef said.

“Shove this,” I told him. “There’s grownups up there. You start shoving with all them bulls in the street, and they’ll shove you into the Tombs.”

“What about Tessie?” Ferdy said.

“What about her?”

“Her pad’s right across the way. We stomp in there, dad, and we got ringside seats.”

“Her folks,” I said sourly.

“They both out earning bread,” Ferdy said.

“You sure?”

“Dad, Tessie and me’s like that,” Ferdy said, crossing two fingers.

So we lit out for Tessie’s pad.

3

She didn’t answer the door ’till we told her who we was.

Even then, she wasn’t too keen on the idea. She played cat and mouse with Ferdy, and he’s honeying her up, come on doll, open the door, and all that kind of crap until I tell her to open it or I’ll bust the goddamn thing right off the hinges. She begins to whimper she ain’t dressed then so I told her to throw something on because if that door ain’t open in three flat I’m going to bust it open.

She opened the door then, and she was wearing a sweater and skirt, and I said, “You’re a fast dresser, huh?” and she nodded, and I wanted to paste her in the mouth for lying to me in the first place. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s anybody who lies.

We go over to the windows and throw them open, and Tessie says, “What’s all the noise about?” and Ferdy tells her Harry’s in the apartment across the way and maybe we’ll see some lead soon. Tessie gets the jitters. She’s a pretty enough broad, only I don’t go for her because Marie and I are that way, but you can bet Marie wouldn’t get all excited and shaking because there might be some gunplay. Tessie wants to clear out, but Ferdy throws her down on the couch and she sits there shaking as if she’s got pneumonia or something. Beef goes over and locks the door, and then we all pile onto the window sills.

It’s pretty good because we can see the apartment where Harry’s holed up, right across the alleyway and only one floor down. And we can also see the street on the other side where the bulls are mulling around. I can make out Donlevy’s strut from up there, and I feel like dropping a flower pot on his head, but I figure I’ll bide my time because maybe Harry’s got something better for that lousy bull.

It’s pretty quiet in the street now. The bulls are just about decided on their strategy, and the crowd is hushed up, waiting for something to happen. We don’t see any life coming from the apartment where Harry’s cooped, but that don’t mean nothing.

“What they doing?” Beef says, and I shrug.

Then, all of a sudden, we hear the loudspeaker down below.

“All right, Manzetti. Are you coming out?”

A big silence fell on the street. It was quiet before, but this is something you can almost reach out and touch.

“Manzetti?” the loudspeaker called. “Can you hear us? We want you to come out. We’re giving you thirty seconds to come out.”

“They kidding?” I said. “Thirty seconds? Who they think he is? Jesse Owens?”

“He ain’t going out anyway, and they know it,” Ferdy said.

Then, just as if Harry was trying to prove Ferdy’s point, he opens up from the window below us. It looks like he’s got a carbine, but it’s hard to tell because all we can see is the barrel. We can’t see his head or nothing, just the barrel, and just these shots that come spilling like orange paint out of the window.

“He got one!” Beef yells from the other window.

“Where, where?” I yelled back, and I ran over to where Beef was standing, and I shoved him aside and copped a look, and sure as hell one of the bulls is laying in the street, and the other bulls are crowding around him, and running to their cars to get the ambulance because by now they figure they’re gonna need it.

“Son of a gun!” I say, “can that Harry shoot!”

“All right,” the loudspeaker says, “We’re coming in, Manzetti.”

“Come on, you rotten bastards!” Harry yells back. “I’m waiting.”

“Three cops moving down there,” Ferdy says.

I look, but I can only see two of them, and they’re going in the front door. “Two,” I say.

“No, Donlevy’s cuttin’ through the alley.”

I ran over to Ferdy’s window, and sure enough Donlevy is playing the gumshoe, sneaking through the alley and pulling down the fire-escape ladder and starting to climb up.

“He’s a dead duck,” I said.

“Don’t be so sure,” Aiello answered, and there’s this gleam in his eyes as if he’s enjoying all this with a secret charge. “They may try to talk Harry away from the fire escape.”

“Yeah,” I said slow. “That’s right, ain’t it?”

“I want to get out of here,” Tessie said. “He might shoot up here.”

“Relax,” Ferdy told her, and then to make sure she relaxed, he sat down on the couch and pulled her down in his lap.

“Come on,” she said, “everybody’s here.”

“They only the boys,” Ferdy said, and he starts mushing her up.

You can hear a pin drop in the street down there. Everybody on the rooftops are quiet, too.

“What do you think...” Beef starts, and I give him a shot in the arm to shut him up.

From inside the building across the way, and through Harry’s open window, I can hear one of the cops talking. At the same time, while they’re pulling Harry over to the door of the apartment, Donlevy’s climbing up that fire escape. He’s up to the fourth floor now, and going quiet like a cat.

“How about it, Manzetti?” the cop in the hallway yells, and we can hear it plain as day through Harry’s open window.

“Come and get me!” Harry yells back.

“Come on out. Throw your gun in the hallway.”

“Screw you, cop!”

“How many guns you got, Manzetti?”

“Come in and count them!”

“Two?”

“Fifty-two,” Harry yells back, and that one really busts me up.

I stop laughing long enough to see Donlevy reaching the fifth floor, and making the turn in the ladder, going up to the sixth.

“He’s gonna plug Harry in the back,” I whisper.

In the hallway, the bull yells, “This is only the beginning, Manzetti. We haven’t started playing yet.”

“Your friend in the street don’t think so,” Harry answered. “Ask him if we started or not. Ask him how that slug felt.”

Donlevy is almost on the seventh floor now. He steps onto the fire escape as if he’s walking on eggs, and I can see the Detective’s Special in his fist. I hate that punk with every bone in my body. I almost spit out the window at him, and then he’s flattening himself against the side of the building and moving up to Harry’s window, a step at a time, while the bull in the hallway is talking, talking, and Harry is answering him. Donlevy gets down on his knees, and he’s got that gun in his right hand, and he’s ready to step up to the window and start blasting.

That’s when I started yelling.

4

“The window, Harry! The window!”

Donlevy looks up for a second, and I can see the surprised look on his face, but then he begins to back off, but he’s too late. The slugs come ripping out of the window, five in a row, as if Harry’s got a machine gun in his mitts. Donlevy grabs for his face, and then the gun flies out of his hand, and then he clutches at his stomach, and then he spins around and he’s painted with red. He stumbles forward to the fire escape, and then he crumbles over the railing and it looks as if he’s going to hang there for a second. The crowds on the rooftops are cheering their heads off by now, and then Donlevy goes all the way over, and Harry is still blasting through that window, pumping slugs into Donlevy’s body, and then Donlevy is on his way down, and the cheers get cut off like magic, and there’s just this godawful hush as he begins his drop, and then a lady in the street starts to scream, and everybody’s screaming all at once.

“He got him!” I said, and my eyes are bright in my head because I’m happier than hell. “He got Donlevy!”

“Two down,” Beef said.

“They’ll get him,” Aiello said, and he’s got a worried look in his eyes now.

“You sound like you want that,” I tell him.

“Who me?”

“No, the man in the moon. Who you think, who?”

“I don’t want them to get Harry.”

“Then stop praying.”

“I ain’t praying, Danny.”

“There ain’t a bull alive can take Harry,” I inform him.

“You can say that again,” Ferdy says from the couch.

Tessie ain’t saying nothing any more. She figures she might as well play ball or Ferdy will get nasty, and she knows Ferdy’s got a switch knife in his pocket.

A phone starts ringing somewhere across the alleyway. It’s the only sound you can hear on the block, just that phone ringing, and then Harry’s head pops up at the window for just a second, and he waves up, not looking at us, not looking at anybody, just looking up sort of, and he yells, “Thanks,” and then his head disappears.

“You saved his life, Danny,” Ferdy said.

“And he appreciates it, dad,” I answered.

“Sure, but what’re they gonna throw at him next?” Aiello says, and from the tone of his voice I figure like he wants them to throw a Sherman tank at him.

“Look, meatball,” I tell him, “just keep your mouth shut. You talk too much, anyway.”

“Well, what the hell. Harry ain’t nothing to me,” Aiello said.

“Hey,” Ferdy said, “you think the bulls are gonna come up here and get us?”

“What the hell for? They don’t know who yelled. It could have been anybody on the roof.”

“Yeah,” Ferdy said, and he kisses Tessie and Tessie gets up and straightens her skirt, and I got to admit Ferdy knows how to pick them, but she still don’t compare to Marie. She goes in the other room, and Ferdy winks and follows her, and I figure we lost a good man for the proceedings. Well, what the hell. There’s just me and Beef and Aiello in the room now, and we’re watching through the window, and it suddenly dawns on me what Aiello said.

“What do you mean, Harry ain’t nothing to you?”

“He ain’t,” Aiello said.

“A,” I told him, “you’re looking for a cracked head.”

“I ain’t looking for nothing. What the hell, he’s a killer. He’s wanted everywhere.”

“So what?”

“So that don’t make him my brother, that’s all. I never killed nobody.”

“He’s from the neighborhood,” I said, and I tried to put a warning in my voice, but Aiello didn’t catch it.

“So it’s not my fault the neighborhood stinks.”

“Stinks!” I walked away from the window and over to Aiello. “Who said it stinks?”

“Well, it ain’t Fifth Avenue.”

“That don’t mean it stinks.”

“Well, a guy like Harry...”

“What about Harry?”

“He... well... he don’t help us none.”

“Help us with who? What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Help us with nobody! He stinks just the way the neighborhood...”

I was ready to bust him one, when the shooting began again outside.

5

I rushed over to the window. The shooting was all coming from the streets, with Harry not returning the fire. It seemed like every cop in the world was firing up at that window. The people on the roofs were all ducking because they didn’t want to pick up no stray lead. I poked my head out because we were on the other side of the alleyway.

“You see him?” Beef asked.

“No. He’s playing it cool.”

“A man shouldn’t walk around free after he kills people,” Aiello said.

“Shut your mouth, A,” I told him.

“Well, it’s the truth!”

“Shut up, you dumb crumb. What the hell do you know about it?”

“I know it ain’t right. Who’ll he kill next? Suppose he kills your own mother?”

“What’s he want to kill my old lady for? You’re talking like a man with a paper...”

“I’m only saying. A guy like Harry, he stinks up the whole works.”

“I’ll talk to you later, jerk,” I said. “I want to watch this.”

The cops were throwing tear gas now. Two of the shells hit the brick wall of the building, and bounced off, and went flying down to the street again. They fired two more, and one of them hung on the sill as if it was going in, and then dropped. The fourth one went in the window, and out it came again, and I whispered, “That’s the boy, Harry,” and then another one came up and sailed right into the window, and I guess Harry couldn’t get to it that time because the cops in the hallway started a barrage. There were firetrucks down there now, and hoses were wrapped all over the street, and I wondered if they were going to try burning Harry out. The gas was coming out his window and sailing up the alleyway, and I got a whiff of the apple blossoms myself, that’s what it smells like, and it smelled good, but I knew Harry was inside that apartment and hardly able to see. He come over to the window and tried to suck in some air, but the boys in the street kept up the barrage, trying to get him, and I felt sorrier’n hell for the poor guy.

He started firing then and throwing things out the window, chairs, and a lamp, and an electric iron, and the cops held off for just a few secs, and Harry copped some air, but not enough because they were shooting more tear gas shells up there, and they were also firing and you could tell they had some tommies in the crowd because no .38 ever fired like that, and no carbine ever did either.

I was wishing I had a gun of my own because I wanted to help Harry, and I felt as if my hands were tied, but what the hell could I do? I just kept sweating it out, and Harry wasn’t firing through the window any more, and then all of a sudden everything in the street stopped and everything inside the apartment was still.

“Manzetti!” the cop in the hallway yelled.

Harry coughed and said, “What?”

“You coming out?”

“I killed a cop,” Harry yelled back.

“Come on out, Manzetti!”

“I killed a cop!” Harry yelled, and he sounded as if he was crying — from the gas those bastards had fed him. “I killed a cop, I killed a cop,” he kept saying over and over again.

“You only wounded him,” the cop yelled, and I shouted, “He’s lying, Harry.”

“Get me a priest,” Harry yelled.

“Why he wants a priest?” Beef asked.

“It’s a trick,” I said. “He wants a shield.”

“No dice,” the cop answered. “Come on, Manzetti, throw your weapons out.”

“Get me a priest.”

“Come on, Manzetti.”

“No!” he screamed. “You lousy punk, no!”

“Manzetti...”

“Get me a priest,” Harry shouted. “I’m scared I’ll... get me a priest!”

“What’d he say?” I said to Beef.

“I didn’t catch,” Beef said, and then the firing started again.

It must have gone on for about ten minutes, and then all of a sudden, just the way it started, that’s the way it stopped again.

“They got him,” Aiello said.

“Bull,” I answered.

I kept watching the street. It was beginning to get dark now, and the cops were turning on their spots and playing them up at Harry’s window. There wasn’t a sound coming from the apartment.

“They got him,” Aiello said again.

“You need straightening, you jerk,” I told him.

The street lights came on, and after about a half-hour a few more cops went into the building.

“Harry!” I yelled from the window.

There was no answer.

“Harry!”

Then we heard the shots in the hallway, and then quiet again, and then the sound of a door being busted, and then that goddamn telephone someplace in the building began ringing again.

About ten minutes later, they carried Harry out on a stretcher.

Dead.

6

We hung around the streets late that night. There’d been a big fuss when they carried Harry out, everybody yelling and shouting from the rooftops, like as if this was the Roman arena or something. They didn’t realize what a guy Harry was, and what a tough fight he’d put up.

“They got him, all right,” Ferdy said, “but it wasn’t easy.”

“He took two of them with him,” I said.

“A guy like Harry, it pains you to see him go,” Ferdy said.

“Yeah,” I answered.

We were all quiet for a little while.

“Where’s A?” Beef asked.

“I don’t know,” I told him. “The hell with that little jerk anyway.”

“He got an inside wire, all right,” Ferdy said. “He was the first cat to tumble to this.”

“Yeah,” I said. I was thinking about the look on Donlevy’s face when those slugs ripped him up.

“How’d he tip to it, anyway?”

“He spotted Harry in the hall. Going up to Louise.”

“Oh.” Ferdy was quiet for a while. “Harry see him?”

“Yeah.”

“He should have been more careful.”

“A guy like Harry, he got lots of things on his mind. You think he’s gonna worry about a snotnose like A?”

“No, but what I mean... somebody blew the whistle on him.”

“Sure, but that don’t...” I cut myself dead. “Hey!” I said.

“What?”

“Aiello.”

“Aiello what?”

“I’ll bet he done it! Why, I’ll bet that little crumb done it!”

“Tipped the cops to Harry, you mean?”

“Sure! Who else? Why, that little...”

“Now, hold it, Danny. Now don’t jump to...”

“Who else knew it?”

“Anybody could have spotted Harry.”

“Sure, except nobody did.” I waited a minute, thinking, and then I said, “Come on.”

We began combing the neighborhood.

We went down the poolroom, and we combed the bowling alley, and then we hit the rooftops, but Aiello was noplace around. We checked the dance in the church basement, and we checked the Y, but there was still no sign of him.

“Maybe he’s home,” Ferdy said.

“Don’t be a jerk.”

“It’s worth a try.”

“Okay,” I said.

We went to the building where Aiello lived. In the hallway, Beef said, “Somebody here.”

“Shut up,” Ferdy said.

We went up to Aiello’s apartment and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” he answered.

“Me,” I said. “Danny.”

“What do you want, Danny?”

“I want in. Open up.”

“I’m in bed.”

“Then get out of bed.”

“I’m not feeling so hot, Danny.”

“Come on, we got some pot.”

“I don’t feel like none.”

“This is good stuff.”

“I ain’t interested, Danny.”

“Open up, you jerk,” I told him. “You want the Law to know we’re holding?”

“Danny, I...”

“Open up!”

I began pounding on the door, and I knew that’d get him out of bed, if that’s where he was, because his folks are a quiet type who don’t like trouble with the neighbors.

In a few seconds, Aiello opened the door.

I smiled at him and said, “Hello, A.”

We all went inside. “Your people home?”

“They went visiting.”

“Oh, visiting, huh? Very nice.”

“Yeah.”

“Like you was doing with Louise this afternoon, huh?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Aiello said.

“When you spotted Harry.”

“Yeah.”

“And then what’d you do?”

“I told you.”

“You went into Louise’s apartment, that right?”

“Yes, I...” Aiello paused, as if he was trying to remember what he’d told me before. “No, I didn’t go in. I went down in the street to look for you.”

“You like this gang, A?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” Aiello said.

“Then why you lying to me?”

“I ain’t lying.”

“You know you wasn’t looking for me.”

“I was.”

“Look, tell me the truth. I’m a fair guy. What do I care if you done something you shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t do nothing I shouldn’t have,” Aiello said.

“Well, you did do something then, huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Come on, A, what’d you do?”

“Nothing.”

“I mean, after you left Louise?”

“I went to look for you.”

“And before you found me?”

“Nothing.”

“Did you blow the whistle on Harry?”

“Hell, no!”

“You did, didn’t you? Look, he’s dead, what do I care what you done or didn’t do? I ain’t the Law.”

“I didn’t turn him in.”

“Come on, A.”

“He deserved what he got. But I didn’t turn him in.”

“He deserved it, huh?”

“Yeah. He was rotten. Anybody rotten like Harry...”

“Shut up!”

“...should have the whistle...”

“Shut up, I said!” I slapped him across the mouth. “Did you?”

He dummied up.

“Answer me!”

“No.”

I slapped him again. “Answer me!”

“No.”

“You did, you punk! You called the cops on Harry, and now he’s dead, and you ain’t fit to lick his boots!”

“He was a killer!” Aiello yelled. “That’s why I called them. He was no good. No damn good. He was a stink in the neigh...”

But I wasn’t listening no more.

We fixed Mister Aiello, all right.

Just the way Harry would have liked it.