that Francis had brought me here to hire me. It was turning out to be quite an interesting day.
“One last thing. You left another blank in that last part of the story. You said Morton and Zellars were blackmailing Silvers. Just what was it he was willing to spend half a million in cash to get his hands on?” I asked, though I already had some idea.
“Ah, well. When Mary was younger, Morton made her do these movies. They’re ah, kind of dirty. But that’s not the most damaging thing. They can still frame her up for the Carlton Silvers thing. That looks pretty bad, and you know how cops are.”
“I see. Morton still has these movies?”
“Morton was keeping them under lock and key. I think that maybe Zellars got his hands on them and bailed on Morton.”
“That might be the cause for the bad blood between them now.”
“Yeah. Naturally, I’d want you to get them back, since I have to stay hands off, myself. Also, I’d want back any evidence they’re keeping that links Mary to Silvers blackmail and death.”
It was my turn to look out the window and reflect on this strange little story. Across from me sat a man who had been an enforcer, a capo to Don Ganato for as long as I could remember. There was gray at his temples and there were scars on his knuckles, and his face. And I knew that I was going to do what he asked, because he was trying, at long last, to do a good thing, even if it was in part for his own selfish reasons.
There was still one thing that redeemed the situation, in my eyes. Francis had come to me when he might easily have done it his way and asked Mary’s forgiveness later on. I wondered why he hadn’t. Maybe he was afraid that she’d leave him if he did it his way. But I believed him when he said that he wanted out of the crime game. Maybe I wanted to help him have a shot at a straight life.
The next thing I knew, I heard myself say, “If I do this, Francis, it goes down my way. Keep your mob boys out of my way.”
“Anything you need.”
“If the police come to me asking questions, I’m not going to lie to them. I’m not going to keep anything from them. And if anybody gets hurt, I’ll tell the police everything I know.”
“It’s like I told you, Longville. I swear I’m telling you the truth. Mary doesn’t want anybody to get hurt. She won’t even let me carry a gun any more. I’m doing right by her, Longville. She just wants these guys to leave her alone. It’s all I want, too.”
I thought for a long minute. “I’m going to need to talk to Mary.”
“I know. We figured that.”
“When?”
Francis smiled his all-knowing smile.
“She’s waiting for you right now, up in your office.”
~
I stepped out of the car and into the burning day, and walked to my office like a man in a trance. With each step that brought me closer to the beaten brownstone that was the Brooks Building, I felt like I was getting closer to the center of a powerful and chaotic vortex of energy, and Mary, in all of her redheaded perfection, was the source, the center and the eye of all that spun around me. I took a deep breath as I mounted the stairs and opened my own door, which Francis’ minions had thoughtfully unlocked for me.
I stepped inside, and there was Mary, sitting on the edge of Miss Oliver’s Desk, her hands resting on its edge on either side of her. Miss Oliver was gone for the day, or she would probably have objected to someone using her desk for a chair, even a stunning redhead straight out of a Vargas painting—and that is what Mary Wiggins, nee Silvers, nee whatever else, was. She was a jaw-droppingly gorgeous woman with thick, curly hair the color of neon lights through hotel shades, and eyes like emeralds that would make you break the jewelry store window just to get a closer look.
Magnificent Mary was tallish, and her pointy black heels just made her even taller. She was a woman who liked to dress like a woman. She was wearing a dark dress that was
“One last thing. You left another blank in that last part of the story. You said Morton and Zellars were blackmailing Silvers. Just what was it he was willing to spend half a million in cash to get his hands on?” I asked, though I already had some idea.
“Ah, well. When Mary was younger, Morton made her do these movies. They’re ah, kind of dirty. But that’s not the most damaging thing. They can still frame her up for the Carlton Silvers thing. That looks pretty bad, and you know how cops are.”
“I see. Morton still has these movies?”
“Morton was keeping them under lock and key. I think that maybe Zellars got his hands on them and bailed on Morton.”
“That might be the cause for the bad blood between them now.”
“Yeah. Naturally, I’d want you to get them back, since I have to stay hands off, myself. Also, I’d want back any evidence they’re keeping that links Mary to Silvers blackmail and death.”
It was my turn to look out the window and reflect on this strange little story. Across from me sat a man who had been an enforcer, a capo to Don Ganato for as long as I could remember. There was gray at his temples and there were scars on his knuckles, and his face. And I knew that I was going to do what he asked, because he was trying, at long last, to do a good thing, even if it was in part for his own selfish reasons.
There was still one thing that redeemed the situation, in my eyes. Francis had come to me when he might easily have done it his way and asked Mary’s forgiveness later on. I wondered why he hadn’t. Maybe he was afraid that she’d leave him if he did it his way. But I believed him when he said that he wanted out of the crime game. Maybe I wanted to help him have a shot at a straight life.
The next thing I knew, I heard myself say, “If I do this, Francis, it goes down my way. Keep your mob boys out of my way.”
“Anything you need.”
“If the police come to me asking questions, I’m not going to lie to them. I’m not going to keep anything from them. And if anybody gets hurt, I’ll tell the police everything I know.”
“It’s like I told you, Longville. I swear I’m telling you the truth. Mary doesn’t want anybody to get hurt. She won’t even let me carry a gun any more. I’m doing right by her, Longville. She just wants these guys to leave her alone. It’s all I want, too.”
I thought for a long minute. “I’m going to need to talk to Mary.”
“I know. We figured that.”
“When?”
Francis smiled his all-knowing smile.
“She’s waiting for you right now, up in your office.”
~
I stepped out of the car and into the burning day, and walked to my office like a man in a trance. With each step that brought me closer to the beaten brownstone that was the Brooks Building, I felt like I was getting closer to the center of a powerful and chaotic vortex of energy, and Mary, in all of her redheaded perfection, was the source, the center and the eye of all that spun around me. I took a deep breath as I mounted the stairs and opened my own door, which Francis’ minions had thoughtfully unlocked for me.
I stepped inside, and there was Mary, sitting on the edge of Miss Oliver’s Desk, her hands resting on its edge on either side of her. Miss Oliver was gone for the day, or she would probably have objected to someone using her desk for a chair, even a stunning redhead straight out of a Vargas painting—and that is what Mary Wiggins, nee Silvers, nee whatever else, was. She was a jaw-droppingly gorgeous woman with thick, curly hair the color of neon lights through hotel shades, and eyes like emeralds that would make you break the jewelry store window just to get a closer look.
Magnificent Mary was tallish, and her pointy black heels just made her even taller. She was a woman who liked to dress like a woman. She was wearing a dark dress that was
Similar Books
