You're Dead Without Money

One

With the temperature down to sub-zero and snow piling up on the sidewalks, to me New York had become a hole in the head. I longed for the sun. I hadn’t been to Paradise City for two years and I now had the itch to relax in the comfort and luxury of the Spanish Bay hotel — the best hotel on the Florida Coast.

I had sold a couple of shorties to the New Yorker and my last novel had been third on the bestseller list for the past six months so I didn’t have to worry about money. Looking out of my window at the grey sky, the snow and watching people moving around like ants far below me in a freezing wind gave me the incentive to reach for the telephone.

A telephone can be a miracle of convenience. You get an idea and the telephone will turn that idea into a reality — always providing you have money. I had money, so in a few minutes I was speaking to Jean Dulac who runs the Spanish Bay hotel at Paradise City. In another few minutes, a room with a balcony that caught ten hours of sunshine per day and overlooking the sea was reserved for me.

Thirty-six hours later I arrived at Paradise City airport to be met by a gleaming white Cadillac that conveyed me to this fabulous hotel which catered only for fifty guests — each guest getting V.I.P. treatment.

I spent my first week relaxing in the sun, chatting up the dollies and eating too much, then I remembered Al Barney.[1] Two years ago, I had met this fat, beer-bloated beachcomber and he had given me an idea for a book. Barney described himself as a man with his ear to the ground. What he didn’t know about the background, the crime, the sex life and the muck behind the City wasn’t worth knowing about.

I asked Dulac if Barney was still around.

‘Of course.’ He smiled. ‘Paradise City without Al Barney would be like Paris without the Eiffel Tower. You will find him, as always, outside or inside the Neptune Tavern.’

So after an excellent dinner, I went down to the smelly waterfront with its crowd of camera festooned tourists, its fishermen and its fishing boats: one of the most picturesque scenes along the Florida coast.

I found Al Barney sitting on a bollard outside the shabby Neptune Tavern. He was still wearing the tattered dirty sweatshirt and the grease-incrusted trousers he had been wearing when I first met him. Someone had patched the sweatshirt and had made a bad job of it — probably he had done it himself. An empty beer can in his enormous hand, he sat like a bloated piece of flotsam with the crowd of tourists moving around him.

To say Al Barney had seen better days would be to make one of the world’s great understatements. Looking at him now, he just had to have had better days. I had been told by Dulac that at one time Barney ran a skin diving school and had been an expert skin diver. To see him as he sat on this bollard, this was hard to believe. Beer had ruined him. Enormous, bloated, his face almost black by years of the Florida sun, his head balding, his small, blue eyes restlessly hunting for any opportunity for the fast buck, he sat there like a vulture in search of a sucker.

He saw me coming.

I knew by the way he stiffened, tucking in his great belly and tossing the beer can into the sea that he remembered me. He regarded me like a man lost in a desert would regard a long sought for oasis.

‘Hi, Barney,’ I said, coming to rest beside him. ‘Remember me?’

He nodded and his little mouth that reminded me of the mouth of a red snapper went through the motions of a smile.

‘Yeah... sure I remember you. I have a good memory.’ His eyes were now quizzing. ‘It’s Mr. Campbell... the writer.’

‘Half way there. The writer part is right... the name is Cameron,’ I said.

‘Yeah... Cameron... I remember. If there’s one thing I’m good at its people’s faces. I gave you the dope about the Esmaldi diamonds... right?’

‘That’s what you did.’

He scratched one of his hairy arms.

‘Did you write a book about it?’

I wasn’t that much of a sucker. I shook my head.

‘Well, it was a good story.’ He scratched some more, then he looked towards the door leading into the Neptune Tavern. ‘I’m a guy with his ear to the ground. You want to hear something new?’

I said I was always interested in hearing anything new.

‘You want to hear about the Larrimore stamps?’ He stared at me, his eyes probing.

‘Stamps... what’s new about stamps?’ I asked.

‘Yeah... a good question.’ He put his hand under his sweatshirt and scratched his belly. ‘You know anything about stamps, mister?’

I admitted I knew nothing about stamps.

He nodded and withdrew his hand.

‘I didn’t either until I heard about the Larrimore stamps. I keep my ear to the ground. I have contacts. I have friends; newspapermen who talk. Even the cops talk and I listen.’ He rubbed the back of his hand across his rubbery lips. ‘You want to hear about it?’

I said stamps didn’t interest me.

He nodded. ‘That’s right. They didn’t interest me, but this is interesting. Let’s go drink a beer.’ He heaved himself to his feet. ‘No one but me knows the complete story and I got it by keeping my ears open and my trap shut. Let’s talk.’ He moved through the crowd like a bulldozer through rubble. People either got out of his way or bounced off him as if hit by a truck. I followed him, knowing he was thinking about beer and when Al Barney thought of beer no one received his consideration except the guy who picked up the tab.

Sam, the Negro barman, was idly polishing a glass when we entered the Neptune Tavern and as soon as he saw me, his eyes lit up. He not only recognized me but he knew for some hours he would not only supply a lot of beer, but he would get paid for doing it, plus a tip.

‘Evening, Mr. Cameron, sir,’ he said, beaming. ‘Long time no see. Glad to have you around again, sir. What’s it to be?’

‘Two beers,’ I said and because you did this sort of thing in Paradise City, I shook hands with him.

Barney had already settled his bulk on a bench by the window and was resting his elbows on the stained table. Sam produced two beers and brought them to the table. I sat opposite Barney. I knew the procedure. Nothing was to be rushed. Before Barney would talk, his thirst had to be slaked. He drank the beer steadily and slowly, but not taking his lips from the glass until, the glass was empty. Then he set down the glass, wiped his mouth with his forearm and released a long, soft sigh.

I didn’t have to signal Sam. He was already at the table with the second beer.

‘You know, mister, when a guy reaches my age,’ Barney said, ‘beer is a great consolation. There was a time when I went for women. Now, women mean nothing to me, but beer keeps me going.’ He fingered his flat nose that was spread half over his face. ‘If it hadn’t been for a woman, I wouldn’t have a sneezer like this. Her husband walked in on us and he was a puncher.’ He shook his head as he reached for his glass. ‘It was lucky for me he bust his fist on my snout... otherwise I could have had a lot more trouble from him.’

I sipped my beer, then lit a cigarette. There was a pause while I thought of what Barney could have looked like in his heyday: an image impossible to conjure up.

‘How’s Mr. Dulac?’ Barney asked. ‘I haven’t seen him in weeks.’

‘He’s fine,’ I said. ‘He told me this City, without you, would be like Paris without the Eiffel Tower.’

Barney smirked.

‘He’s a gentleman... I don’t often say that... most of the rich creeps living around here wouldn’t know what the word ‘gentleman’ means.’ He emptied half his glass, then looked thoughtfully at me. ‘Do you want to hear about Larrimore’s Russian stamps, mister?’

‘What’s so interesting about them?’

‘Anything worth a million dollars must be interesting,’ Barney said firmly. It beats me how bits of paper with designs on them can get so valuable. It wasn’t until I got all the dope about these stamps that I realized what some people do with them.’ He leaned forward and poked a finger as thick and as big as a banana in my direction. ‘Did you know some people behind the Iron Curtain use stamps as their getaway stake? Did you know some people put their money in stamps to avoid income tax? Did you know some people use stamps as foreign currency?’

I said I had heard such stories and what had this to do with this man called Larrimore?

‘It’s a long story,’ Barney said. ‘I can give you all the dope on the same terms we had last time... that is if you want the dope.’

I played hard to get. Stamps, I said, didn’t interest me.

He finished his beer and rapped on the table. He didn’t have to alert Sam who was leaning on the bar watching every sip. He came around, dumped another beer, then went away, carrying the empty.

‘I can understand that,’ Barney said. ‘You’re not interested in stamps because you don’t know anything about them. This is a story you could turn into a book. I’ll tell you something: if I could write, I wouldn’t be giving it to you. I’d be writing it myself, but as I can’t write, I can do a deal. How’s about it?’

I said as I was on vacation with nothing better to do, I would listen.

His little eyes became probing. ‘The same terms as last time?’

‘Terms? What terms?’

He didn’t hesitate. He might not have remembered my name, but he certainly remembered what he had screwed out of me for his last story.

‘All the beer I want, some food and a few bucks to take care of my time.’

‘Okay,’ and I parted with twenty dollars. He put the bills into his hip pocket as he signalled to Sam.

‘You won’t be disappointed, mister. Are you hungry?’

I said I wasn’t hungry.

He shook his head, disapprovingly.

‘When you get the chance to eat, mister, you should eat. You never know when the next meal is coming.’

I said I would bear this in mind.

There was a pause, then Sam brought over a three-tier hamburger that oozed grease. He planted it before Barney who regarded it with a satisfied smirk. To me, it looked as appetizing as a drowned cat.

Barney began to munch while I waited. He took his time. After getting through the second tier of the hamburger and after finishing his beer, he sat back, rubbed his lips with his forearm and prepared to talk.

‘A lot of people got involved in this stamp thing,’ he said. ‘To put you in the picture, I’ll start with Joey Luck and his daughter, Cindy. Then I’ll tell you about Don Elliot.’ He paused to peer at me. ‘You remember Don Elliot?’

‘The movie star?’

Barney nodded.

‘That’s him. Did you ever see any of his movies?’

‘Not my style. Didn’t he take over Errol Flynn’s mantle — a strictly cut and thrust performer?’

‘You could say that, but he had his fans. He made six movies and they all made a pile of bread.’

‘I haven’t heard his name now for some years. What happened to him?’

‘All in good time, mister, I’ll get around to him later. I want you to get this story in its right perspective.’ Barney looked anxiously at Sam who was pouring another beer. ‘Step by step... one thing at the time. For you to understand this set up I’ve got to tell it my way.’

I said that was fine with me and would he get on with it?

‘I’ll start with Joey Luck and his daughter, Cindy, short for Lucinda, because they play a big part in the Larrimore stamp steal.’ He looked slyly at me. ‘I bet you never heard that this one million dollars’ worth of stamps were stolen?’

I said if I had heard it would have been no skin off my nose.

Barney frowned. He wanted to create drama and he wasn’t getting the right reaction so far from me.

‘I’ll get around to the steal in due time.’ He paused to attack the third tier of his hamburger which had become a revolting looking mess of congealed grease. After he had munched a while, he squared himself on the bench, rested his enormous hands on the table and leaned forward. I could see he was at last ready to shoot in earnest. ‘Joey Luck... now the only thing lucky about Joey was his name,’ he began. ‘He was a dip.’ He paused. ‘You know what a dip is, mister?’

I said a dip was a man who put his hands in people’s pockets and stole what he found there.

‘That’s exactly right. Joey was a small time dip. If he picked up a hundred dollars a week which he seldom did he thought he was Henry Ford. From way back, Joey always thought and acted small, but this made him smart because he acted so small the cops never got on to him. There’re plenty of dips who act big and land up behind the walls, but not Joey. He didn’t even have a record. Now, I want you to understand, Mr. Campbell, that Joey...’

I thought I had better get this straightened out once and for all so I interrupted him to remind him my name was Cameron.

‘That’s right... Cameron... yeah.’ He scratched the end of his nose, shifted on his seat and then went on, ‘As I was saying, Joey wasn’t a bad sort of guy. In fact you could say that he was a nice guy. I got along with him. When he had a bit of extra money which wasn’t often he would buy a friend a beer. I would like you to get a picture of Joey: tall, thin with a lot of greying hair. He had one of those nondescript faces you see every day on any busy sidewalk: a face you don’t remember, a face you don’t look at twice. He always wore a shabby grey suit and a battered straw hat. He was around fifty years of age. He married young and his wife died giving birth to a baby girl who he called Lucinda. From what I hear Joey never got along with his wife so her loss didn’t bother him. He was crazy about Cindy. He gave her a decent education and made no secret to her about what he was. Cindy adored him and as soon as she left school, she became his partner. He taught her all his tricks, and by the time she was eighteen she was as good a dip as he was which is saying something. During the summer months they worked in New York, but when winter came, they moved down here. There was plenty to work on here, but they kept their operations small, living decently, but with no ambition to get rich.’ He paused to stare at the beer in his glass, then went on, ‘I’ll give you a picture of Cindy. At the age of twenty, she was sensational. I’ve seen lots of girls of her age in my time, but none of them were a patch on Cindy. Like her old man, she was tall. She was blonde, with a traffic-stopping figure and a pair of legs that cause car accidents. Her looks bothered Joey. He knew sooner or later a man would turn up and he would lose her. This became a nightmare thing for Joey. He just couldn’t imagine life without her. Up to the age of twenty, Cindy showed no interest in boyfriends. She could have had her pick, but she didn’t play. Going around with Joey, dipping, keeping the home nice seemed to satisfy her. Joey prayed this would last, but he knew he was kidding himself.

‘To put you more in the picture, I’ll give you a brief idea of a routine day in their lives. They got up late and over coffee they discussed the menu of the day. They believed in eating well, but at the low expense of the various self-service stores in the district. Joey had dreamed up a smart idea of getting all the food and drink they required, not only for nothing but without risk. He had made a lightweight oval shaped basket with an open top which Cindy strapped to her tummy. Over this she wore a maternity dress. Leaning on her father’s arm, her make-up pale, she looked the part of a brave little woman about to have her first baby. Not only did they jump all queues, but they lulled all suspicion while Cindy stowed away in the basket the best cuts of meat and the necessary accessories to a good meal while Joey’s lean frame sheltered her activities from prying eyes. It was a nice little racket and provided them with good food for nothing. They then returned to their pad and while Cindy cooked lunch, Joey read aloud items from the newspaper which he considered of interest. After lunch they would separate. Cindy would work the stores while Joey worked the buses. They would meet again around five o’clock with enough money to eat out in the evening and put a little by for the rainy day. Then they would watch TV until bedtime and the following day would be a repeat of the previous day. Not what you could call an exciting way of life, but it suited them.’ Barney nodded to Sam who had just put down another beer. The time came for their move down here. They had rented a small bungalow on a five-year lease on Seaview Boulevard — nothing very special but they liked it, being people, as I have said, without ambition. They arrived, settled in and began the same routine as when they lived in New York.’ Barney paused to sip his beer. ‘But this trip to Paradise City was to be different. This was when Joey’s luck began to run out. The thing which he dreaded happened. Cindy fell in love.’ Barney ran his finger around his plate, then conveyed the grease-ladened finger to his mouth.

I asked him if he would like another hamburger.

‘Not right now, thank you, but maybe a little later,’ he said. ‘Well, Cindy fell in love and this brings Vin Pinna on the scene. Although Pinna was only twenty-six years of age, he was a veteran in crime. He specialized in burglary and there were few locks, alarms or security guards he couldn’t cope with. He made a decent living, ran a Jaguar car, travelled a lot and kept on the move so the police of the various states didn’t catch up with him. The trouble with Vin was he couldn’t hold on to money. As soon as he got paid by some fence he promptly spent the money on clothes, high living and dollies. In his way, he was a looker: tall, handsome, tough and vicious. He wore his hair long as they do these days and he spent a lot of money on this cockeyed gear young guys of today like to wear. He had come to Paradise City for a look around. It’s no secret that this City is stuffed with people who have more money than sense and the villas up on the hill are crammed to the ceiling with valuable loot.

‘Before coming to Paradise City, Vin had been working Miami. While leaving a Miami hotel bedroom with some old dowager’s jewel box he had the bad luck to walk into the hotel dick. He knocked the dick cold. In the struggle he dropped the jewel box, but he got away. He knew the dick would give the cops a good description of him so he decided to move on and he moved here.

‘Cindy spotted him as he was buying himself some neck ties in one of the best stores in the City. She thought he was a real doll, but that didn’t stop her trying for his billfold. There must have been something about Vin that spoilt her concentration because he felt her fingers slide into his hip pocket.

‘He turned and smiled at her. They looked at each other and this chemistry thing called love clicked in her. She handed him back his billfold with a nice apology and accepted his offer of an ice drink. They talked for the rest of the afternoon until Cindy realized she should have been home an hour ago. This threw her into a panic. Not only had she been chatting up this handsome guy for hours but she had neglected her afternoon’s work and had earned no money. This she explained to Vin who laughed and gave her twenty bucks, telling her he wanted to see her the following afternoon.

‘Vin was pretty blasé about girls, but Cindy got to him. I’m not saying he fell in love with her as she had with him, but he liked her better than any other girl he had met and he wanted to see her again.

‘Cindy agreed to meet him at the Lido where they could swim and talk. She had made no secret about what her father and she did for a living. Vin had been genuinely amused and he hinted he was in the crime racket himself although he didn’t go into details. Cindy was impressed as he drove off in his Jaguar. Not only was he handsome, fun and sexy, she thought as she made her way home, but he was rich.

‘Joey was quick to spot something had happened when Cindy came in. There was that faraway look in her eyes that girls get when they are turning soppy over some man.’ Barney paused to heave a great sigh. ‘The number of times, when I was young, I’ve seen that look would surprise you. Like me, Joey knew the signs and a cold wind blew over him although he was smart enough not to ask questions.

‘During the next six days, Cindy and Vin met every afternoon and by that time they were both crazy about each other.

‘Then Cindy decided it was time to break the news to Joey. She dreaded telling him, but it had to be done. She couldn’t go on deceiving him. She explained all this to Vin and asked him to meet her father. At first, Vin said no, but Cindy pleaded and because he wanted to please her, he shrugged and agreed.’

‘ “Be nice to him, Vin,” Cindy said. “He’s been a wonderful father to me. Come around tomorrow at midday. That will give me time to break the news and get him in the right mood.”

‘ “Okay... okay,” Vin said indifferently. “I’ll come. I wouldn’t do it for any other doll, but for you, I’ll make the exception.”

‘Joey knew he was going to be told by the nervous way Cindy behaved when she came home. Joey had had six days in which to get used to the idea that Cindy was finally in love. He had told himself over and over again this was inevitable and he now knew if he wasn’t to lose Cindy he would have to play his cards carefully. This could be calf love: something that wouldn’t last, but he doubted it He decided there was only one thing to do: he had to be understanding, pretend to be happy for Cindy and hope the guy came up to expectations and wouldn’t let Cindy down. The thought of spending the rest of his days on his own depressed him, but this he knew he would have to accept. If he could persuade Cindy not to rush into marriage, he would try, but he would try gently.

‘After supper, instead of turning on the TV set, Joey said quietly, “What’s on your mind, baby? Something you want to tell me?”

‘So Cindy told him.

‘Joey nodded.

‘ “It happens all the time and it had to happen to you. If you’re happy, then that makes me happy, but are you sure?”

‘Cindy went to him and put her arms around him.

‘ “I was scared of telling you. I thought you’d be angry.”

‘ “What’s there to be angry about? A girl like you should get married.” Joey forced a smile. “Besides, I want to be a grandfather. I like kids. When’s the wedding to be?”

‘Cindy’s eyes opened wide.

‘ “We’re not planning to get married yet. We just want to be together, have fun... we don’t want kids for heaven’s sake... anyway, not yet.”

‘Joey suppressed a sigh of relief.

‘ “But you do plan to get married, baby?”

‘ “We haven’t discussed that,” Cindy frowned. “We just want to have fun.”

‘Joey nodded.

‘ “Well, tell me about him.”

‘He listened to Cindy’s eulogy, his heart despairing and his face alight with false interest.

‘ “He’s a big operator,” she concluded. “He hasn’t told me just what his racket is, but it must be big. He’s a terrific dresser and drives this big Jag and he’s free with his money. You’ll love him, dad. I’m sure you will.”

‘Joey said he hoped he would. Then after a pause, he asked if Vin had a record.

‘ “A record? What do you mean?” Cindy stiffened.

‘ “Well, you know... do the cops know him... has he ever been inside?”

‘ “I’m sure he hasn’t! Of course not! Vin’s much too smart to have a record.”

‘ “That’s fine.” Joey hesitated, then went on, “We have to be careful, baby. So far we have kept clear of the cops. The bigger the operator the more dangerous he is.”

‘ “I don’t know what you mean!” Cindy had never spoken so sharply to her father before and Joey inwardly cringed.

‘ “I don’t mean anything, baby. I just said we had to be careful.”

‘ “We are careful. I can’t see what Vin has to do with it. I tell you... he’s as smart as a whip.”

‘From his long experience in petty crime, Joey knew those who were smart as a whip were those who invariably got caught, but he didn’t say so. He could only hope now that this affair wouldn’t last long.

‘When Cindy said Vin was coming to lunch the following day, Joey told her he was delighted.’

Barney leaned forward and looked over at Sam. He pointed to his enormous belly and wigwagged with his eyebrows.

‘If it’s all the same to you, mister,’ he said. ‘I’ll have another hamburger.’

The meeting between Joey and Vin went off better than either man expected. Joey certainly leaned over backwards to be pleasant, knowing Cindy was listening to every word he uttered and watching every change of his expressions. There was something about Vin that impressed Joey: his self-confidence, the determined light in his steel grey eyes and the suggestion of ruthlessness told Joey this was no ordinary smalltime crook. He also realized that Vin seemed genuinely fond of Cindy and this pleased him: at least, his adored daughter wasn’t going to be given the runaround.

Rather to his surprise, Vin found Joey easy to talk to, quick-witted and in no way the heavy father.

The lunch which was elaborate was a success. After the meal, Vin took them in his Jag up in the hills, away from the crowded beach and went out of his way to make Joey feel he wasn’t the odd man out.

Around 16.00, Joey who had enjoyed talking about his past life, telling Vin some of his varied experiences, said it was time for him to go to work.

‘You take the day off, baby,’ he said to Cindy. ‘You and Vin have a little fun.’

They drove back to the City and dropped Joey off at the bus station. As they drove away, Cindy looked anxiously at Vin.

He grinned at her.

‘He’s a nice old guy,’ he said. ‘Small time — but I like him.’ He put his hand on Cindy’s. ‘We three are going to get along fine together.’

That’s the way it turned out. After a week, Joey suggested that Vin should move in with them at the bungalow. After some thought, Joey had decided he could see more of Cindy if Vin moved in and besides, he found he liked having Vin around to talk to. He didn’t realize until now how he had been missing male conversation.

After hesitating, Vin agreed. He was getting a little worried about his financial position. He was staying at a modest hotel, but the rates of even a modest hotel in Paradise City came high. Before very long, he told himself he would have to do a job. Up to now, he had been content to enjoy Cindy’s company. He refused to admit to himself that the encounter with the hotel dick had shaken his nerve. He decided he would give hotels a wide berth. He must tackle one of these villas he had heard so much about. So when Joey suggested he took one of the spare bedrooms and contribute twenty dollars a week to help out, Vin, after checking his billfold and finding he was down to his last five hundred dollars, agreed.

All the same, although pressure was now relaxed on his billfold, Vin told himself he must get down to work. He was a stranger in Paradise City and had no connections which made things tricky. He knew Joey and Cindy had been coming to the City for the past three years and he decided to have a word with Joey to find out if Joey could steer him to a steal.

So one morning while Cindy was preparing the lunch and the two men sat under the shade of a tree in the little garden, Vin casually asked if Joey knew of a reliable fence in the City.

‘Fence? There are several.’ Joey shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t say they are reliable. The best fence is Claude Kendrick. He runs a big antique shop in the swank district of the City, but he is strictly big time. He supplies antiques and modern art to most of the big shots living around here and makes a fortune, but he also deals in hot goods. It depends, of course, what he’s offered. Give him something top class and he’ll take it, but not small stuff. Abe Levi who runs a tourist junk shop takes the small stuff, but he pays badly. All the same, I should think Abe would be the man for you.’ Joey looked thoughtfully at Vin. ‘Are you thinking of pulling a job?’

‘My dough’s running out,’ Vin said, frowning. ‘Yes, I’ve got to do a job.’

This was a shock to Joey although he was careful not to show it. He had been under the impression from what Cindy had told him that Vin was loaded with the stuff and now to hear Vin was running short more than depressed him.

‘Look, Vin,’ he said. ‘Don’t do anything rash. I...’

Vin’s sudden scowl stopped him short. For the first time, Joey saw the meaner side of Vin’s nature and this was also a shock.

‘Rash? I don’t get you.’ Vin growled. ‘When I pull a job, I do it right.’

‘I’m sure you do,’ Joey said hastily, ‘but you’re in Paradise City now, Vin. This City’s special. It’s like a closed shop if you know what I mean.’

Vin stared at him.

‘Like a... what?’

‘The boys here have everything organized,’ Joey explained, his tone apologetic. ‘Outsiders aren’t encouraged.’

Vin stiffened and his eyes hardened.

‘Is that right? Am I an outsider?’

Joey fidgeted with his beautifully shaped hands.

‘I guess you are, Vin. The boys won’t take kindly to you if you start operating here.’

‘So what will they do if I do operate?’

Joey ran his fingers through his thick, grey hair.

‘From what I hear they will tip the cops, and Vin, make no mistake about this, the cops here are dynamite. It’s their job to protect the rich living here and believe you me, they do a job.’

Vin lit another cigarette. He thought for a long moment, then, his voice more subdued, he asked, ‘So how do I get an in, Joey?’

Joey looked unhappy.

‘It’s tricky, but talk to Abe. Tell him you’re in the business and ask him politely what he can do for you. It’s the only way, Vin. If Abe turns you down, that’s it. You must not operate in this City. If you do, without Abe’s say-so, you’re certain to get picked up by the cops.’

‘I never had this trouble in Miami,’ Vin said angrily. ‘What the hell’s with it with this goddamn City?’

‘Take an older man’s tip then,’ Joey said. ‘Live here and work Miami. It’s not all that far away. You could spend a couple of days there, do a job and come back here.’

Vin shook his head.

‘Miami’s too hot for me now,’ he said sullenly. ‘I’ve got to work this City if I’m going to work at all.’

Joey shifted uneasily in his chair.

‘You’re not in trouble?’

‘Trouble? No, but the cops in Miami have a description of me. I can’t go back there.’ Vin stared up at the blue sky. ‘I’ll tell you something. I’m getting sick of this way of life, Joey. As soon as I get any money I either lose it or spend it. I want to do a once-and-for-all job that will set me up for three or four years... I want to marry Cindy. I want to buy a bungalow somewhere on this coast and for us three to settle there. You and me could go fishing and we could talk. Cindy and I could have fun and you could stick around because I like you, Joey. I wouldn’t want you to leave us. We’ve talked about it. When Cindy and I want to be alone I’d give you the high sign and because you’re smart you’d leave us alone. That way we could all live together and have fun.’

Joey couldn’t believe his ears. This was what he had been praying and hoping for. Tears rushed into his eyes and he had to get out his handkerchief and pretend he was stifling a sneeze.

‘But, first, I’ve got to pull a big one,’ Vin went on, not noticing Joey’s emotion. ‘It’s got to be big. Fifty thousand dollars would do it. Now how the hell am I going to find a job worth all that bread?’

Fifty thousand dollars!

Joey sat up in alarm.

‘Now look, Vin, that’s kid’s talk. Fifty grand! They could put you away for fifteen years. Now get that right out of your mind! You don’t think I want a son-in-law locked away for fifteen years, do you?’

Vin stared at him, his eyes cloudy and far away. He didn’t have to put into words the thought that was going through his mind. Joey knew Vin was regarding him with friendly contempt and Vin knew he was looking at a man who lived and thought small and would always live and think small.

Cindy came to the open door that led to the living room.

‘Come and get it,’ she called.

As the two men got to their feet, Vin asked, ‘Where do I find Abe Levi?’

Abe Levi’s junk shop was located on the waterfront near, where the sponge trawlers and the lobster boats anchored. The shop was one of the City’s tourists’ attractions. It contained anything from a stuffed snake to a tortoiseshell comb, from glass ‘diamonds’ to handicrafts made by the local Indians, from a canoe to the original muzzle loader that killed some General during the Indian wars. You name it, Levi had it. Stuffed with objects, the vast, dimly lit shop was served by four attractive Seminole girls, wearing their native costumes.

Levi kept behind the scenes in his small, pokey office. Although Levi made a large and steady income from the junk he sold, he made an even larger and even more steady income from handling loot the local thieves offered him and at a much bigger profit.

Abe Levi was tall and thin with a balding head, a hooked nose and eyes as impersonal as bottle stoppers. He regarded Vin as Vin sat by Abe’s old-fashioned roll top desk and what Abe saw he didn’t like. He didn’t like handsome men. He dealt with the small fry of the City’s thieves who were invariably shabby and far from handsome. This tall, bronzed man in his immaculate suit and outrageous tie and his arrogance made Abe instinctively hostile.

Vin had explained who he was and that he was looking for a job to pull. Abe listened, stroking his hooked nose with thin boney fingers, shooting quick glances at Vin and then looking away.

‘If I find something,’ Vin concluded, ‘are you in the market to buy?’

Abe didn’t hesitate.

‘No.’

The flat note and the hostile expression sent a wave of hot anger up Vin’s spine.

‘What do you mean?’ he snarled. ‘You’re in the goddamn business, aren’t you?’

Abe fixed Vin with his bottle stopper eyes.

‘I’m in the business but not to outsiders. There’s nothing here for you in this City. Try Miami. They take outsiders. We don’t.’

‘Is that right?’ Vin leaned forward, his big hands into fists. ‘If you don’t want my business, there are plenty who will.’

Abe continued to stroke his nose.

‘Young man, don’t do it,’ he said, ‘This City is a closed shop. We have enough working here without outsiders. Go to Miami, but don’t try to operate here.’

‘Thanks for nothing. So I operate here,’ Vin said, red showing through his bronze. ‘Who’s going to stop me?’

‘The cops,’ Abe said. ‘The cops here know there must be a certain amount of crime in this City. They accept this, but they don’t accept a new face. Someone will tip them that a new face has arrived and the owner of the new face has ideas. In a few days that new face is either run out of the City or else lands up behind bars. Take my tip: there’s nothing here for you. Go to Miami. That’s a fine city for a young man like you... but don’t try anything here.’

Vin stared for a long moment at this tall, thin Jew and it dawned on him that this old man was being helpful in his odd way. He lifted his shoulders and stood up.

‘Well, thanks,’ he said. ‘I’ll think about it,’ and turning, he made his way through the shop, ignoring the Indian girls who were ogling him hopefully and into the hot sunlight of the waterfront.

For the first time in his life, he felt a lack of confidence and a nagging fear that soon his money would run out. He didn’t want to leave Paradise City. He wanted to be with Cindy. But what was he to do? He knew a warning when he was given a warning and Abe Levi had shown him the red light.

With lagging steps, he walked to where he had parked the Jaguar.