“I never worked with the guy.”
“I have,” Floyd said. Friendly but with a hard edge.
“I never even heard of him.”
Floyd put the chicken down. “I don’t work with just anybody, Doc.”
“I never said you did, Chock.”
Nelson, working on a bite of baked beans, said, “Yeah, why isn’t your pal Richetti in on this one? I thought
“He’s on the mend. Caught a bullet while back.”
“Sorry to hear it,” Nelson said. “Suppose he’s holed up in the Cookson Hills, huh?”
Floyd shook his head no. “We been havin’ to avoid the hills. Ever since the feds and the state militia did that sweep through there February last, we been stayin’ out.”
Karpis, who was sharing half a chicken with Dolores, said, “I heard they only nailed a dozen or so crooks, all of ’em small-timers, with that search party.” Small laugh. “A thousand men combing the hills for small change.”
Floyd nodded. “Still, with the governor willin’ to turn up the heat that high, we been keeping out of there. We been holing up ’round Toledo way.”
Doc said, “Licavoli mob’s helping you out, I suppose.”
“Yeah,” Floyd said. “For a price.”
Doc sighed, nodded. “Yeah. This ol’ life ain’t cheap, is it?”
“Life’s cheap enough,” Floyd said. “It’s livin’ that gets expensive.”
Louise, who was an even daintier eater than John Paul Chase (she was the only one at the table cutting the meat off the chicken with her knife and fork, instead of just using her hands—her daddy must’ve beat some manners in her), had finished her meal and was starting to complain of getting eaten up by mosquitoes. The sun was going down and the bugs were coming out.
Floyd stood. “You nice gals can clear the table, if you would, and get in away from the skeeters. Us men got work to do.”
Karpis wiped his face and hands with a napkin and stood as well. “Yes we do. Let’s go down to my cabin.”
The men went down to his cabin.
37
Karpis’ cabin was identical to ours, except with the beds on the opposite side of the room. In addition he’d had some folding chairs brought in. Everybody found chairs or sat on the edge of one of the beds, which was where I ended up, over to the far left, by the wall, facing Karpis, who, looking more and more like a schoolteacher, stood by the facing wall where he’d tacked a big homemade grease- pencil map of the Chicago Loop.
Floyd was the last to come in, with his hungover partner Sullivan in tow, the little-man-who-wasn’t-there at dinner, an average-looking guy in a dark suit, wearing sunglasses and a fedora, despite being indoors. They took seats across the room, near the door, where I couldn’t quite see ’em.
It was a little warm, a little stuffy in the room, with all these men crowded in, most of them smoking; no cigars in the crowd, at least. There was a breeze tonight, coming in the half-open windows, and it was appreciated. Most of the men were in shirt sleeves; I wore the lightweight white suit, gun tucked under my arm. If I was going to play in the World Series of crime, I figured I ought to have my bat along.
Karpis, in a white shirt buttoned to the neck and baggy brown pants, stood with folded arms, slouching a little. He was, like me, wearing his window-glass wire-rims. “I guess everybody knows our objective.”
Nelson laughed, but bitterly. “We’re going to snatch the big fed. The loud-mouth son of a bitch who calls us yellow rats from behind a goddamn desk. We’re going to snatch him, haul in the big dough, and then fuckin’ kill him.”
“
“Why?” Nelson said. It was almost a whine.
“Because,” Karpis said, “he’s more trouble to us dead. Better we embarrass and disgrace and humiliate the bastard, and
From across the smoky room came Floyd’s voice. “I agree. The son of a bitch likes to call us ‘vile’ and ‘vicious’ and ‘mad dogs’ and that. Kill him and we make him look right.”
“I don’t give a shit,” Nelson said evenly.
Floyd said, “That’s just handin’ Hoover’s attorney general boss more ammunition against us. Then he just sticks another son of a bitch in Hoover’s chair, and what’s to gain? The days ahead is gonna be hot enough.”
Karpis took over. “George, listen. Sure, picking Hoover for our mark comes partly out of wanting to even scores with the son of a bitch. Make him look bad, make him look stupid, put him on the spot. Of course. But the real point of this, the main point, is to grab a public figure so important the government’ll cough up some real dough to get him back. The fact it also makes the feds look sick is just frosting on the cake.”
Doc Barker was sitting next to me; he seemed impatient as he said, “Quit chasing your tails, fellas. I ain’t convinced yet this is even gonna come off. I’m not in unless somebody can show me how this fool thing can really work.”
Fred Barker nodded, said, “Yeah. Yeah, me too!”
Karpis said, “That’s why we’re here, Doc.”
Doc said, “From what you told me before, I take it you’re planning to snatch Hoover right on the street, right in
