Promised Land

Chapter 26

It was raining like hell and still dark when I woke up with a crick in my neck on the sofa in my living room. I shut off the alarm and dragged myself out of bed. It was quarter of five. I took a shower, and got dressed before I banged on my bedroom door, at five o’clock.

Pam Shepard said, “I’m awake.”

She came out of the bedroom wearing my bathrobe and looking her age and went into the bathroom. I checked my gun. I stood in my front window and looked down at Marlborough Street and at the rain circles forming in the wet street. I thought about making coffee and decided we wouldn’t have time and we could get some in the railroad car. I got out my red warm-up jacket that said LOWELL CHIEFS on it and put it on. I tried getting the gun off my hip while wearing it, and I left it unbuttoned, it wasn’t bad. At five-twenty Pam Shepard came out of the bathroom with her hair combed and her make-up on and my robe still folded around her, and went back into my bedroom and shut the door. I took my car keys out of my hip pocket and put them in my coat pocket. I went to the window and looked at the rain some more. It always excited me when it rained. The wet streets seemed more promising than the dry ones, and the city was quieter. At five-thirty Pam Shepard came out of my bedroom wearing yellow slacks and a chocolate-colored blouse with long lapels. She put on a powder blue slicker and a wide-brimmed rain hat that matched and said, “I’m ready.”

“The wardrobe for every occasion,” I said. “I have the feeling you had Susan buy you a safari hat just in case you had to shoot tiger while you stayed here.”

She smiled but there wasn’t much oomph in it. She was scared.

“This is going to be a milk run,” I said. “There will be more cops than fruit flies there. And me, I will be right with you.”

We went down the front stairs and got in my car and it started and we were off.

“I know,” she said. “I know it’ll be all right. There’s just been so much, and now this. Police and gangsters and it’s early in the morning and raining and so much depends on this.”

“You and me babe,” I said, “we’ll be fine.” I patted her leg. It was a gesture my father used to make. It combined, when he did it, affection and reassurance. It didn’t seem to do a hell of a lot for Pam Shepard. At twelve minutes of six in the morning we pulled into the restaurant parking lot. It was daylight now, but a gray and dismal daylight, cold as hell, for summer, and the warm yellow of the lighted windows in the railroad car looked good. There were a lot of trucks and cars parked. The terminal does its work very early. I assumed that two of the trucks contained our side but there was no telling which ones.

Inside we sat in a booth and ordered two coffees and two English muffins. Pam didn’t eat hers. At about two minutes past six King Powers came in wearing a trench coat and a plaid golf cap. Macey was with him in a London Fog, and outside in the entry way I could see Hawk in what looked like a white leather cape with a hood.

“Good morning, Kingo-babe,” I said. “Care for a cup of Java? English muffin? I think my date’s not going to eat hers.”

Powers sat down and looked at Pam Shepard. “This the buyer,” he said.

“One of them. The ones with the bread haven’t shown up yet.”

“They fucking better show up.” King said. Macey at in the booth beside Powers.

“That’s a most fetching hat, King,” I sad. “I remember my Aunt Bertha used to wear one very much like it on rainy days. Said you get your head wet you got the miseries.”

Powers paid no attention to me. “I say fucking six o’clock I mean fucking six o’clock. I don’t mean five after. You know what I’m saying.”

Rose and Jane came into the restaurant.

“Speak of coincidence, King,” I said. “There they are.”

I gestured toward Rose and Jane and pointed outside. They turned and left. “Let us join them,” I said, “outside where fewer people will stand around and listen to us.”

Powers got up, Macey went right after him and Pam and I followed along. As we went out the door I looked closely at Hawk. It was a white leather cape. With a hood. Hawk said, “Pow’ful nice mawning, ain’t it, boss.”

I said, “Mind if I rub your head for luck?”

I could see Hawk’s shoulders moving with silent laughter. He drifted along behind me. In the parking lot I said, “King, Macey, Hawk, Rose, Jane, Pam. There now, we’re all introduced, let us get it done.”

Powers said, “You got the money?”

Jane showed him a shopping bag she was carrying under her black rubber raincoat.

“Macey, take it to the truck and count it.”

Rose said, “How do we know he won’t run off with it?”

Powers said, “Jesus Christ, sister, what’s wrong with you?”

Rose said, “We want to see the guns.”

“They’re in the back of the truck,” Macey said. “We’ll get in and you can look at the guns while I count the money. That way we don’t waste time and we both are assured.”

Powers said, “Good. You do that. I’m getting out of the fucking rain. Hawk, you and Macey help them load the pieces when Macey’s satisfied.”

Powers got up in the cab of a yellow Ryder Rental Truck and closed the door. Rose and Jane and Macey went to the back of the truck. Macey opened the door and the three of them climbed in. Hawk and I and Pam Shepard stood in the rain. In about one minute Rose leaned out of the back of the truck.

“Spenser,” she said, “would you check this equipment for us?”

I said to Pam, “You stand right there. I’ll be right back.” Hawk was motionless beside her, leaning against the front fender of the truck. I went around back and climbed in. The guns were there. Still in the original cases. M2 carbines. I checked two or three. “Yeah,” I said, “they’re good. You can waste platoons of old men now.”

Rose ignored me. “All right, Jane bring the truck over here. Spenser, you said you’d help us load the truck.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said. “Me and Hawk.”

Macey took the shopping bag that said FILENE’S on it, jumped down and went around to where Powers sat in the cab. He handed the money in to Powers and came back to the tailgate. “What do you think, Spenser. This okay to make the swap.”

We were to the side of and nearly behind the restaurant. “Sure,” I said. “This looks fine. Nobody around. Nobody pays any attention anyway. They load and unload all day around here.”

Macey nodded. Jane backed in a blue Ford Econoline van, parked it tail to tail with Powers’ truck, got out and opened the back doors. I went back to the front of the truck where Pam and Hawk were standing. “Hawk,” I said softly, “the cops are coming. This is a setup.” Macey and Rose and Jane were conspiring to move one case of guns from the truck to the van. “Hawk,” Macey yelled, “you and Spenser want to give us a hand.” Hawk walked silently around the front of the truck behind the restaurant and disappeared. I put my hands in my hip pockets. “Stay right beside me,” I said to Pam Shepard.

From a truck that said ROLLIE’S PRODUCE Sylvia and McDermott and two state cops emerged with shotguns.

Jane screamed, “Rose,” and dropped her end of the crate. She fumbled in the pocket of her raincoat and came out with a gun. Sylvia chopped it out of her hand with the barrel of the shotgun and she doubled over, clutching her arm against her. Rose said, “Jane,” and put her arms around her. Macey dodged around the end of the van and ran into the muzzle of Bobby Santos’ service revolver, which Santos pressed firmly into Macey’s neck. King Powers never moved. Klaus and three Chelsea cops came around the other side of the truck and opened the door. One of the Chelsea cops, a fat guy with a boozer’s nose, reached in and yanked him out by the coat front. Powers said nothing and did nothing except look at me.

I said to King. “Peekaboo, I see you,” nodded at Jackie Sylvia, took Pam Shepard’s hand and walked away. At seven we were in a deli on Tremont Street eating hash and eggs and toasted bagels and cream cheese and looking at the rain on the Common across the street.

“Why did you warn that black man?” Pam Shepard said, putting cream cheese on her bagel. She had skipped the hash and eggs, which showed you what she knew about breakfasts. The waitress came and poured more coffee in both our cups.

“I don’t know. I’ve known him a long time. He was a fighter when I was. We used to train together sometimes.”

“But isn’t he one of them? I mean isn’t he the, what, the muscle man, the enforcer, for those people?”

“Yeah.”

“Doesn’t that make a difference? I mean you just let him go.”

“I’ve known him a long time,” I said.