“You still carrying the gun?”
He meant the automatic that my father had killed himself with.
“I don’t carry it often. But I still got it.”
“It’s what you carry when you feel you need to carry a gun, though.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
His soda water came; he sipped it; smiled.
“Good,” he said.
I smiled at him. I knew what he meant.
A big tall man in a natty dark suit and a gray snap-brim hat was asking a question of Buddy Gold at the bar. Buddy pointed over to us, and the man—a dark, handsome guy in his late thirties—ambled over.
“Another fan,” Barney muttered under his breath.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“Mr. Heller,” the man said, nodding to me. “I don’t believe we’ve met. But I’m—”
“I know who you are, Sergeant Zarkovich,” I said. “No, we haven’t met, exactly, but you were pointed out to me several times in East Chicago. This is Barney Ross. Join us, if you like.”
He smiled; it was a winning smile, I’d have liked him immediately if I hadn’t known him to be the crookedest cop in East Chicago. Which was going some.
He said, “I recognized you, of course, Mr. Ross,” and he tipped his hat, “and it’s a real honor to meet you. I saw you take Canzoneri. I won a half a C, thanks to you.”
The big man was still standing there, so Barney, smiling back at him, said, “Thanks. Do join us, why don’t you?”
“No, thanks. And I apologize for busting in. I just wondered if I could have a little of Mr. Heller’s time…in private…when you two men are through talking. I can wait over at the bar….”
He was smooth, I had to give him that. But seeing him here was giving me a sick feeling.
He was the cop in East Chicago who the madams paid off every month; he was the bagman, the collector, who Anna Sage would’ve had dealings with. Would’ve, hell—that was where I’d seen him, where he’d been pointed out to me—in East Chicago, at the Kostur Hotel.
“Don’t be silly,” Barney said, “join us—have a beer on the management.”
“Well, okay,” Zarkovich said, his smile turning shy. Aw shucks, the bagman said.
He scooted in on Barney’s side, dwarfing the champ.
“I knew you had Canzoneri,” he told Barney. “I wasn’t worried a second.”
“You were the only one, then,” Barney said. “That was too close to call. They didn’t even consider me champ in NYC, till I beat their boy on his home ground.”
“And gave him a good licking.”
Barney made an embarrassed face; but he enjoyed the attention. He was a good guy, but he was human.
“Tried like hell to knock him out,” Barney said, almost apologetically. “Son of a gun just wouldn’t go down.”
“Look, Zarkovich,” I said, leaving off the “Sergeant.” Annoyed with all this small talk. “If you got business with me, let’s go upstairs to my office.”
Barney seemed offended by my lack of manners. “Nate, come on—I’m the one who insisted he join us.”
Zarkovich half-stood. “I apologize for intruding.”
Barney really was embarrassed now, put a hand on Zarkovich’s arm, stopping him. “You’re not intruding. Let me get you that beer—”
I slid out of the booth and stood. “I’d just like to get business out of the way, first. We’ll be back down later, Barney. We’ll both let you buy us a beer—if you’ll be around awhile.”
Barney’s face settled into a distrustful mask. “Uh, sure, Nate. I’m just waiting for Pearl to get back with what’s left of my money. I’ll be here half an hour or so at least.”
Zarkovich thanked Barney for his hospitality and followed me out onto the street, in the shadow of the El, where we went in the door between the cocktail lounge and the pawnshop and up the stairs to my office, where I unlocked the door and ushered him in. We hadn’t said a word on the way.
I opened a window and got back behind my desk and Zarkovich stood till I gestured for him to sit, in one of the chairs opposite me. He took off his hat, and I invited him to take off his suitcoat; he smiled politely and, despite the heat, declined.
“I thought we should talk,” he said.
“I wonder what about.”
“You seem to be ahead of me, Mr. Heller.”
“Let’s drop the ‘mister’ horseshit, okay, Zarkovich? Anna Sage still owns two houses in East Chicago, so you’re here today collecting from her, right?”
His handsome face was impassive.
