wanting to see me was one tiling; Dawes was something else again. I couldn't work it out.
And I had forgot to ask about the file cabinets.
At about six, I went down onto the street and found another cool evening waiting for me- the day had been cloudy, no snow, a little rain, and the sidewalk was shiny, wet. Van Buren Street itself, though, sheltered by the El tracks, looked dry. A streetcar slid by, obscuring the store across the way- Bailey's Uniforms- for just a moment. I walked to the restaurant around the corner from Barney's building; it was a white building with a vertical sign that spelled out
B
I
N
Y
o
N
S in neon-outlined white letters against black, with the word "Restaurant" horizontally below in black cursive neon against white. Not a cheap place, but they didn't rob you either, and the food was good, and since I'd missed lunch I decided I could afford something better than a one-arm joint.
I couldn't afford it, really: I'd get one more paycheck from the department and then would have to dig into the couple thousand I had salted away- a combination of the remainder of the small estate my pa left and money I'd been putting aside for a house for after Janey and I got married.
I had about an hour to kill before hopping the El to go out to Janey's flat on the near North Side, so I hit Barney's blind pig again, and Barney was in there, sitting in a booth with a hardly touched beer; he lit up like July 4 when he saw me.
I was embarrassed What can you say when somebody goes that far out of his way for you?
"Might've made up the bed, you thoughtless bastard," I said, with a sour smile.
"Go to hell," he said pleasantly.
"I tried to call you at the gym this afternoon, but couldn't get you."
"I was doing roadwork around Grant Park. I usually do that in the morning, but I had some business to do. and Pian and Winch insist on that roadwork. 'cause my wind ain't my strong point."
"You had business to do, all right. Going out and getting that Murphy bed. and getting a phone put in. You forgot to get me a file cabinet, you know."
He shrugged. "They couldn't deliver till tomorrow."
"You're kidding."
He wasn't.
I said. "I hope you know I'm paying you for all this."
Barney nodded. "Okay."
"You might have argued a little."
"That gracious I'm not."
Buddy Gold came over from behind the bar and leaned in to our booth, raising his furry eyebrows sarcastically. "You got a phone call. Heller- that fed friend of yours."
I took it behind the bar.
"Eliot," I said "what's up?"
"Nate, can you get free?"
I looked at my watch; I needed to hop the El in half an hour to keep my date with Janey.
"Is it important, Eliot?"
"I think it's something you'd find interesting."
Eliot tended to understate, so that meant it was probably crucial I come.
"Okay. You going to pick me up?"
"Yes. I'm at the Transportation Building, so it won't be more than ten minutes. I'll try for five."
"Okay. You know where I am, obviously. Want to stop in for a beer?"
"No thanks. Nate." There was a smile in his voice; he liked to pretend he didn't have a sense of humor, but he did.
"Why don't you pick me up in that truck of yours, the one with the prow on the front end? You can just butt your way in. pick me up. and get a little work done on the side."
Eliot allowed himself a short laugh. "Why don't I just honk instead?"
"And I thought you had style," I said, hanging up.
I tried to call Janey to tell her I'd be late, but she wasn't home yet. So I went back to the booth.
"What does Ness have going?" Barney asked.
"He didn't say. Sounded like he was in a hurry to get there, wherever it is we're going. I haven't talked to him since this brouhaha started brewing. I do know he's involved peripherally. I saw in the papers that he and another prohibition agent questioned Campagna and Palumbo and the others when they were still in custody, that same day of the shooting. I meant to give him a call, but I didn't get 'round to it."
That wasn't
And I had forgot to ask about the file cabinets.
At about six, I went down onto the street and found another cool evening waiting for me- the day had been cloudy, no snow, a little rain, and the sidewalk was shiny, wet. Van Buren Street itself, though, sheltered by the El tracks, looked dry. A streetcar slid by, obscuring the store across the way- Bailey's Uniforms- for just a moment. I walked to the restaurant around the corner from Barney's building; it was a white building with a vertical sign that spelled out
B
I
N
Y
o
N
S in neon-outlined white letters against black, with the word "Restaurant" horizontally below in black cursive neon against white. Not a cheap place, but they didn't rob you either, and the food was good, and since I'd missed lunch I decided I could afford something better than a one-arm joint.
I couldn't afford it, really: I'd get one more paycheck from the department and then would have to dig into the couple thousand I had salted away- a combination of the remainder of the small estate my pa left and money I'd been putting aside for a house for after Janey and I got married.
I had about an hour to kill before hopping the El to go out to Janey's flat on the near North Side, so I hit Barney's blind pig again, and Barney was in there, sitting in a booth with a hardly touched beer; he lit up like July 4 when he saw me.
I was embarrassed What can you say when somebody goes that far out of his way for you?
"Might've made up the bed, you thoughtless bastard," I said, with a sour smile.
"Go to hell," he said pleasantly.
"I tried to call you at the gym this afternoon, but couldn't get you."
"I was doing roadwork around Grant Park. I usually do that in the morning, but I had some business to do. and Pian and Winch insist on that roadwork. 'cause my wind ain't my strong point."
"You had business to do, all right. Going out and getting that Murphy bed. and getting a phone put in. You forgot to get me a file cabinet, you know."
He shrugged. "They couldn't deliver till tomorrow."
"You're kidding."
He wasn't.
I said. "I hope you know I'm paying you for all this."
Barney nodded. "Okay."
"You might have argued a little."
"That gracious I'm not."
Buddy Gold came over from behind the bar and leaned in to our booth, raising his furry eyebrows sarcastically. "You got a phone call. Heller- that fed friend of yours."
I took it behind the bar.
"Eliot," I said "what's up?"
"Nate, can you get free?"
I looked at my watch; I needed to hop the El in half an hour to keep my date with Janey.
"Is it important, Eliot?"
"I think it's something you'd find interesting."
Eliot tended to understate, so that meant it was probably crucial I come.
"Okay. You going to pick me up?"
"Yes. I'm at the Transportation Building, so it won't be more than ten minutes. I'll try for five."
"Okay. You know where I am, obviously. Want to stop in for a beer?"
"No thanks. Nate." There was a smile in his voice; he liked to pretend he didn't have a sense of humor, but he did.
"Why don't you pick me up in that truck of yours, the one with the prow on the front end? You can just butt your way in. pick me up. and get a little work done on the side."
Eliot allowed himself a short laugh. "Why don't I just honk instead?"
"And I thought you had style," I said, hanging up.
I tried to call Janey to tell her I'd be late, but she wasn't home yet. So I went back to the booth.
"What does Ness have going?" Barney asked.
"He didn't say. Sounded like he was in a hurry to get there, wherever it is we're going. I haven't talked to him since this brouhaha started brewing. I do know he's involved peripherally. I saw in the papers that he and another prohibition agent questioned Campagna and Palumbo and the others when they were still in custody, that same day of the shooting. I meant to give him a call, but I didn't get 'round to it."
That wasn't
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