The Deep

Chapter Six

The apartment building where Bennett died belonged to me. Provisionally. It was far from the best that he had owned, but sentiment had kept him chained to the street and he had gotten some strange kick from re-modeling the shabby tenement so that on the inside it had all the earmarks of Park Avenue.

While I waited for Augie I looked down the block that had spawned Bennett and me and the others and wondered why it was that it never seemed to change. The smells were the same and the sounds were the same. Diagonally across the street was the place I had been born and the guy hunched in the doorway nursing a bottle of beer could have been my old man. I looked up at the roof and the niche was still there in the parapet where Bennett and I had pried up the bricks to throw into the middle of the Crowns when they came up from Columbus Avenue looking for trouble. Almost automatically I glanced down to the base of the street lamp where two of them had fallen, smashed senseless, their blood staining the sidewalk, remembering the police cars and the ambulance and the wild, heady flight across the rooftops. It was a very special night because it was the first time we had ever been fired on and it made us pretty big men on the block. George Elcursio who had run with the Vernon mob in Chi had seen us the next day and gave us the big buddy wink for our brashness. A week later he had us doing odd jobs for Sig Musco’s end of the syndicate operation and we had our first taste of what power meant and what money could do.

Augie didn’t interrupt the brief reflection. He waited, patiently. When I turned around he handed me a set of keys in a wallet. “Mr. Batten was rather reluctant about letting me have them, Mr. Deep.”

“You talked to him?”

His smile was faint. “I talked to him. I’m afraid you have him pretty badly upset.”

“The worst is yet to come, Augie lad.” I started across the street to the apartment, aware of the fact that we were far from unseen. Little would ever happen on this block that went entirely unobserved. Here for hundreds of eyes was a macadam stage, lit by day and night, where an unending living drama unfolded against a backdrop of stark reality. Here the play was a timeless tragedy, life realistically portrayed, death always an impending thing ready to step from the wings on a gunshot or knife-slash scream cue. And always in their places, watching intently so as not to miss one facet of the show, was the audience. Sometime they came so close as to be a part of it themselves.

At the stoop Augie said, “They held a police guard on the place until yesterday. Two patrolmen, one upstairs and one here.”

“Routine,” I said and he nodded agreement.

We went up the worn flight of stone steps to the door and I opened the lock, went in and switched on the light. Even though I knew what to expect it came as a surprise. There was nothing of the tenement squalor left. Even the outlines of poverty had been altered and you felt as if you had been transplanted suddenly to a place downtown with the park or the river outside your door. The walls and ceiling were gleaming white, touched faintly with gold trim, original contemporary oils framed in wormy chestnut lending color to the whiteness.

The stairway was gone completely. In its place to the rear was a small self-service elevator. It was a cute trick, I thought, like a modem style tree house where you could pull your ladder up after you. I wondered how he got past the building inspectors.

Augie showed me the way in, holding the door open to the lower front room. Again, the decorator’s touch was evident. The room was striking, comfortable, but not lavish in the taste that Bennett would demand if he intended to use it often. Evidently this was the place where certain persons could be met, briefly entertained and kissed off without introducing them to the privacy of personal quarters. Bennett had gone a long way. A real long way.

I said, “What’s the general layout, Augie?”

He took in the room with a sweep of his hand. “This is nothing here. Three rooms used mainly for business. He kept a bartender and a maid here more or less permanently. Mr. Batten let them go when... it happened.”

Before I said it Augie shook his head.

“They could tell you nothing. They were sister and brother. Both congenital deaf mutes. It was one of Mr. Bennett’s precautions.”

“Smart. I didn’t think he was that smart.”

“A lot of people made that same mistake, that’s why they lost out to Mr. Bennett.”

“Really?” I swung around and grinned at him with a touch of sneer thrown in. “How come you didn’t attach yourself to Ben, Augie?”

It didn’t ruffle him at all. “When Mr. Bennett was fighting his way up it would have been a good deal. But when he reached the top he wasn’t at his best trying to hold on.”

“He did it quite a while.”

“As I mentioned... only because he was smart.”

“What did Batten have?”

“Mr. Batten is shrewd. At this stage he had an edge.”

“There are tough ones around, Augie, who could take old Wilse as easy as spitting.”

“Perhaps, but those will wind up dead too soon. Calculating the odds and including life expectancy, Mr. Batten was by far the best opportunity for me.”

“Until I came along, you mean.”

“Exactly.”

“Now let’s have the straight pitch, Augie.”

He knew what I meant and smiled, his hands behind his back rocking gently on his toes. “You’ll take the tough ones, Deep,” and this time there was no Mr. “You’ll edge out the shrewd ones and do just like you and Ben planned twenty-five years ago. You’ll have it all in your hand for just a little while and then it will be gone. If you were just going after the king’s throne you could do it, but your primary cause is to find a killer. You’ll get him, Deep, but in getting him you’ll die too. If the state doesn’t get you a bullet will.”

“You think you could take me, Augie?”

He shook his head and smiled broadly. “I won’t have to.”

“And after I get it?”

“Then I’ll take over. When you get finished there won’t be anyone left to oppose the move. I’ll be the only one left who knows the entire operation by then anyway.”

It was such cool thinking that you would never imagine this guy to have clawed his way out of the sewer slums to make it this far.

I said, “Supposing I can hold it after I get it, Augie?”

His smile broadened. “That’s all right too. I still can’t lose. I’ll be close enough to the top and you’ll be the target.”

“You have it all figured out.”

“That’s right. I have it all figured out.”

“Meantime you’re my boy so show me the rest of this layout.”

At the elevator the signs of the Homicide Division were plain. The obvious places a person might touch showed traces of print dust, and areas of activity were marked by clusters of cigarette butts ground into the floor.

At the first landing we went through a poolroom, a well stocked bar and a library. The police hadn’t bothered to conceal the obvious fact that they had gone through the place. All the signs were there. Nothing had been missed and whatever they were looking for hadn’t been found or never had been there at all. Even the pool table had been moved to search the sections under the feet.

It was on the third floor that Bennett had lived. And died. It was here that the stamp of his own personality was evident. The decorators had had a different thought in mind in the beginning, but it was a thought Bennett couldn’t live with. The touch of the tenement was here, not that it was introduced, but that it had never left. The garish plush furniture in tasteless maroon was Bennett’s choice. The two imitation ebony lamp bases had an erotic motif and nearly every piece of furniture had an autographed nude photograph, suitably framed, decorating it. The bar was overly mahagonied and overly chromed. The combination TV and record player was outsized and scarred at the edge from carelessly laid cigarettes. I studied it from every angle, a strange feeling of familiarity touching me. I shrugged it off and walked across to the desk.

Beside it part of a body outline in chalk marred the polished flooring. I said flatly for no reason, “The police found him here.”

Augie sensed something. “He died there.”

“Not here,” I told him. “They just found him here.”

He frowned at me, then his eyes went to the dark brown stains that matted the rug and the mess by the door and the bloodied handprint on the wall.

I took the copy of the police report from my pocket, went over it carefully, then handed it to Augie. “They think he got it inside here. He thrashed around while he was dying and messed the place up. Their opinion is that a guest was responsible.”

He never took his eyes from the sheet. “Nobody could get that close to him. Besides, any entertaining he did never took place up here.”

“You’ve been here, Augie. You aren’t new to this room.”

He still didn’t look up. “Twice when Mr. Bennett had an illness he needed legal work done. I was the liaison agent between him and Mr. Batten. He had a gun beside him all the while.” He finished the report and handed it back.

“Bennett died in an alley up the street,” I said. I filled in the details except for saying who Pedro was and watched him while he thought it over.

It didn’t make sense to him, either.

I said, “Augie... why did they want him dead?”

“They...”

I cut him off with, “Not who, Augie. Why. Why did Bennett die?”

“He was pretty big, Mr. Deep.”

“I know.”

“The big guy is always the target.”

“Why, Augie?”

“I can only guess,” he said.

“So guess.”

His hands folded together again. “Talk has it the syndicate is growing.”

“Bennett was in.”

“Mr. Bennett was a scared man. The syndicate seemed to find it... impossible to deal with scared men.”

“You’re reaching for it but you’re not hitting it, kid.”

He teetered on his toes again and stared down the empty expanse of the room. “Suppose I give you my opinion in an illustration. Mr. Bennett was one, who instead of controlling the team with a slight touch of the reins, preferred, instead, to jerk them whichever way he wanted to go.” He stared at me steadily a moment, then added, “It’s only an opinion, of course.”

“Of course. But there’s only one thing wrong and you know it as well as I do. This was no syndicate kill. Their method never varies. The outside boy who never sees the payee, the big blast and so-long. They’re not going to pop him off with a .22 and they’re not going to hit anybody in the neck from two feet away. You know how many professional kills are still unsolved locally?”

“I know of a few.”

“This isn’t one.”

“It could be,” he said quietly.

“This was eyewash? A red herring?” I shook my head. “No dice, friend.”

“The word has been out a long time.”

He was feeling again. I said, “They could be getting smarter. I hate to give them that kind of credit, but it could happen. A nice sloppy job with some gimmicks thrown in could really mess things up for the cops. The only hitch is that the cops don’t know Bennett didn’t die here.”

“In time they could find out,” he said.

“But who’s that smart, Augie? Who wanted Bennett dead that badly?”

Augie smiled again, his eyes glinting. “Why, Mr. Deep, everybody wanted Mr. Bennett dead.”

“Enough to buy a kill and leave a possible chink in the armor?”

“I think so.”

“Or was it that somebody hated him that hard?”

“It could be that too.” He smiled again. “Nobody in the driver’s seat is ever liked.”

I nodded and made a tour of the room again. I went into the bedroom for a cursory look around, then into the bathroom and back to the kitchen. The place had been searched. Thoroughly. The police shook the place down the first time, but somebody else had done it too. I called Augie in and pointed to the scratch marks on the floor where the refrigerator had been moved out and back.

“What do you make of it, Augie?”

“The cops didn’t do it.”

“No... they wouldn’t go that far.”

“What would fit under or behind a refrigerator?”

The thought was plain. Augie shrugged and frowned. “A kilo or two of H could make it, but Mr. Bennett wouldn’t keep it around.”

“He was in the business, wasn’t he?”

“Only secondhand, I understand. He did business with those who were in the business.”

I said, “There are two other possibilities. Jewels or cash.”

The frown deepened between his eyes and he shook his head again. “No jewels. He never fooled with that market. Neither was it cash. We handled all Mr. Bennett’s accounts and he declared everything to keep out of the Treasury boys’ hands. He was investigated every year but was absolutely clear. No, it wasn’t cash. He never did a cash business. Within the statute of limitations he was clean, clean.”

“So I’m missing a bet.”

His eyes sought mine. “Evidently.”

“Don’t be smug, Augie. It’ll come.”

We went back to the living room and just stood there, looking. Finally I said, “Why is this place so familiar, Augie? There’s something here I can’t quite latch onto.”

“Can’t you tell?” he said. “Can’t you remember back?”

“I’m trying.”

Then I got it. The plush, the maroon, the incongruity of everything. “It’s like the old cellar club, isn’t it. Make this stuff old and worn, toss some dirt around and use candles instead of lights and you got the old K.O. clubroom.”

“That’s right.”

“A real sentimental slob,” I muttered.

“No... just no class.”

There was no doubting the sincerity in his voice. Augie had come a long way and he knew just where he was headed, but now his opinions were showing the influence of his attitude. He was big and he was hard, but he wasn’t kill-toughened and this one little thing kept him a step behind the leader. So far.

“I’ll be staying here from now on, Augie. Make sure everything is in order. You know, phone, groceries. And get somebody in to clean up.”

“It’s been taken care of already, Mr. Deep.”

Before I could answer him the phone rang and I lifted it from the cradle. I said, “Yeah?”

And Cat’s clipped voice on the other end said breathlessly, “Deep? Good. Look, I just spotted two boys I knew from Philly. Lew James and Morrie Reeves. They hire out and they come expensive. They checked in at the Westhampton under the names of Charles and George Wagner and after they went to their room I slipped the doll at the PBX a bill to listen in to their calls and the only one they made went to a public phone and the guy on the other end brought you into it. Said you were in Bennett’s place.”

“How’d you know it was an outside phone?”

“Hell, I could hear all the racket. Sounded like a subway booth.”

“Could you spot the voice?”

“Jeez, Deep, I couldn’t. Look, you better blow, man. Them cats are hot for your skin. These boys got a wild rep, you know?”

“So have I, Cat.”

For a few seconds he was quiet. “You want me to stick with them? If you want I could pull something that could make these cats scat like crazy.”

“Let them go. They won’t be in too much of a hurry. They’ll make themselves nice and comfortable first.”

“Well, what should I do? Man, you’re being set up!”

“So come on over and have a drink. We’ll talk about it later.”

His voice was a tired whistle and he hung up. When I put the phone back I told Augie to round up a couple of the old crowd to stake out the place and then beat it on home.

He made the calls there, picked up his hat and waved so-long. I waved back and watched him get into his car from the front window, then I turned the TV on, sat on the floor and waited for Cat.

Twenty minutes later the chimes went off, I pushed the buzzer to open the downstairs door and listened to the hum of the elevator climbing up.

There was a single sharp rap on the door and I yelled to come in, then looked around. But it wasn’t Cat. It was Councilman Hugh Peddle and his two friends were well dressed hoods who went along under the title of “advisors.”

Rather than get up from the floor I waved to the chairs and said, “Sit down, laddies, sit down. You’ll have to excuse the informality. I wasn’t expecting anyone.”

Hughie’s eyes sneered back at me. “It’ll only be a short visit, Deep.”

“Oh?” I could feel a nasty grin pulling at my mouth. “How’d you find me?”

“You left a wide path, Deep. You were leaving yourself open to being found, but don’t think you’re being clever.”

“You came to tell me this, huh?”

“Not exactly.”

“So?”

“How much will you take to leave town?”

I inched back slowly and leaned against the sofa. “I’ll collect a million or so by sticking around, pal.”

“Only if you meet the terms of Bennett’s will.”

“You mean to sell out now?”

“Not at all. Let Batten have what there is. Keeping it and managing it is nothing but a headache. You take a cash settlement and leave. The sum will be quite substantial.”

“Leave to where?”

“Wherever you came from. Wherever you want to go. Just leave.”

“Who’s got that kind of dough?” I asked.

“Never mind. It’s there and there’s no catch to it. The money can be deposited for you, handed over in cash... any way you prefer. No rough stuff afterwards. You get to keep the money.”

“That’s a real nice deal, Hughie.”

“Well?”

“I like it here.”

The smaller of the two hoods smiled gently, as if he felt sorry for me. His mouth never moved when he spoke. “If you want, Mr. Peddle, we can push this bird a little. It’s not hard to make them reasonable.”

I said, “Tell him, Hughie boy.”

The Councilman got all red in the face and I could see his beefy shoulders hunch under the coat. He made an impatient motion with his hand and turned back to me again. “What about an outright sale then. The price will be above anything you can make in a lifetime and you can keep Bennett’s junk too.”

I timed it so he wouldn’t know I was reaching. “What’s there to sell, Hughie boy?”

He didn’t trust himself to speak. There was rage in his face but fear in his eyes and before the wild anger of the moment could make him point the finger I looked at the two hoods and said, “Either one of you even twitches and I’ll pop one right between your horns.”

A tic pulled at the mouth of the taller one, like he was trying to keep from laughing. “You can’t be that fast,” he said. He kept watching my hands where the thumbs hooked into my belt. He was wondering how long it would take to make a cross-draw to a shoulder holster.

I said, “I know how you can find out.”

The red left Hughie’s face and he said, “Stop it, Moe. He’s got the rod on his belt.”

The hood sucked in his breath at the mistake he almost made and let his face go blank. Then the small one chuckled. “From the floor he’d be your only hit, friend. What do you think I’d be doing?”

Behind him Cat said softly, “You’d be dying, chump,” and when the guy turned around he looked down the barrels of a shotgun and went dead white. Hugh Peddle touched them both, turned and walked out. The elevator whined again and I watched them climb into a car on the street below.

When Cat lowered the hammers of the shotgun and propped it in a corner I said, “Who tipped you?”

“The stakeout across the street.”

“What’d you do, fly in like Peter Pan?”

He laughed like a little kid. “You forgetting the old Cat, Deep? Up the fire escape and in the window. Like fog. Remember that poem?”

“About the fog coming in on little cat feet?”

“Yeah. Well, that’s me. And you better be the same, you feel like staying alive.”

“The imports?”

“Them is right. I made a coupla calls and got a confirm on the target. It’s you. Five G’s apiece across the board.”

“I come expensive.”

“You don’t know how much. They also got another five G’s to split between them from another source to hold up the play for a few days.”

“Screwy,” I said.

“Yeah.” He craned his neck to look at me squarely. “You ain’t shook, Deep?”

“Nah,” I waved my thumb at the couch. “Let’s sack it out a while.”

“Sure, Deep. Mind if I have a drink first?”

“Help yourself.”

He walked over, opened one end of a cabinet and brought out a bottle. One drink started him coughing until he almost collapsed, then he straightened up and wiped his eyes. I said, “You know your way around here, Cat?”

“Natch. Ben used me for a mailman. He never used the phone when he wanted orders passed around. Why?”

“No reason. Let’s hit it.”

He rolled on the couch and I headed in to the bedroom. As I got to the door Cat asked, “Suppose those guys drew and I wasn’t there, Deep?”

“I would have popped them between the horns, buddy.”

“You think?”

“They wouldn’t be the first ones I popped,” I said softly.