‘I don’t care if he can bug running water. If be ain’t white, Christian, six-feet tall, and don’t wear pin-stripe suits and look like a goddamn stockbroker, he’s in the wrong outfit.’
Sharky pointed towards the door of the OC. ‘Does that look like a six-foot stockbroker to you?’ he asked.
Larry Abrams, The Nosh, came out of the building, a short, boxy little man, a hair over five feet tall and almost as wide, wearing faded jeans, a blue work shirt, a suede jacket, and carrying a black tool box almost as big ashe was. His thick black hair was longer than regulations permitted; he was wearing glasses a quarter-inch thick and his crepe- soled hiking boots were as muddy as they were ugly. The Nosh was grinning; he usually was.
Livingston looked shocked. ‘He’s in the OCI’
‘Jesus,’ Papa said, ‘there ain’t much to him is there?’
Livingstone watched the little man approach the car. ‘Amazing,’ he said, ‘everything in the world that fuckin’ D’Agastino hates. He’s Jewish, he’s too short, his hair’s too long, he’s overweight, his shoes are dirty, he’s smiling, he’s dressed like a janitor, and he looks human.’
The Nosh leaned against the door of the car. ‘Hey, Shark, what’s up?’
‘Any problems with D’Agastino?’
‘Nah. I told him I had to go over and do a trick for the FBIs. That’s the magic word in the fortress there. You say FBI, everybody wets their pants.’
‘Hop in.’
The Nosh crawled into the back seat and Sharky introduced him around.
‘Where we headed?’ the Nosh asked.
‘Moneyville. Lancaster Towers,’ Sharky said.
The Nosh whistled through his teeth. ‘Who we after?’
‘A very pretty lady,’ Livingston said.
‘Aww,’ the Nosh said, ‘I hate to pick on pretty ladies.’
Livingston turned sideways in his seat so he could look at Abrams as he talked. ‘Me too, but this lady happens to be a very high class hooker whose pimp just shook fifty g’s out of a Texas oilman. We think she may be involved in a new scam and this time the stakes may be even higher. What we’d like is to wire up her place like a Christmas package and see what we can turn up.’
‘What kind of set-up?’
‘Nobody’s been inside yet. You know the Lancaster Towers?’ said Livingston.
‘I’ve driven by it, never been inside.’
‘Okay, what we got is twin towers, twelve storeys each, an east tower and a west tower. They’re connected at the third floor by a terrace that runs between them. Swimming pool, bar, that sort of thing. The parking garage is below ground-level, three storeys, with a gate that’s activated by one of those plastic coded cards. Visitor parking on ground level. Both buildings have security guards. She’s in 10-A, facing the east wing. We been checking her number for the past hour or so and her machine answers.’
The Nosh nodded. ‘She could be up there doing a number.’
‘We considered the possibility,’ Sharky said.
Th-e Nosh said, ‘We can give the door a rattle. If she answers, we tell her we’re checking the TV cable, something like that.’
‘Sounds good,’ Livingston said. ‘We also have the security guards. I’d like to keep this in the family, but I don’t see any way to get past them without showing our hand.’
The Nosh smiled and opened his tool chest. It was meticulously arranged. Wire, diodes, phone-jacks, screws, nuts and bolts of all sizes, miniature amplifiers, microphones, and tape recorders, all were neatly fitted into the case. A tray on top contained tools of all kinds and, arranged neatly in one corner, two Baby Ruth bars, a box of Good’n’ Plenty and a coconut Twinkie. The Nosh opened a drawer and took out a bundle of business cards. Leafing through them, he stopped and smiled. ‘Here we go,’ he said. ‘We’re from the elevator inspection department. That’s city.
Suppose we, uh, suppose we’re doing a stress check on the elevators. We’ll be in and out for the next couple days.’
‘What’s a stress check?’ Papa asked.
‘Hell, I don’t know,’ The Nosh said, ‘but it sounds good.’
They all laughed.
Papa stared at the candy bars. ‘I got a weight problem,’ he said. ‘You got a weight problem?
‘I can put on a couple pounds driving past a deli,’ The Nosh said.
‘I gain weight readin’ recipes,’ Papa said.
‘Wanna split a Baby Ruth?’
‘Love it.’
He cut one of the candy bars in two and gave Papa the larger piece. Livingstone turned back to Sharky. ‘It’s love at first sight,’ he said. ‘They’ll be engaged before the weekend’s over.’
‘Here it comes,’ Sharky said as raindrops began pummelling the windshield.
‘You mind I ask you a personal question? Livingston said to The Nosh.
