One of the others muttered. “How come he knows you, Jake?”
“Shut up. I’m waiting, Menner.”
Menner held his hands out in front of his face and shook them, as though clearing away cobwebs. “Stern,” he said. “Stern.”
“You’ll see him in a few minutes. Collect the wallets. The rest of you, keep your hands on the table, your eyes on the cards. Menner, you reach into their pockets for the wallets. You don’t want to bring out anything but wallets.”
The man who’d spoken before said, “Do like he says, Jake. We’ll take care of him later. We don’t want any trouble here.”
Menner obediently got to his feet. He went around the table, reaching into the other players’ pockets, bringing out the wallets. Parker told him, “Put them in your coat pockets. Your own wallet, too. And the bills from the table.”
“Listen,” said Menner. His voice was shaky. “Listen, you don’t under “
“Shut up.”
Menner had all the wallets in his coat pockets. He looked baggier than before, and forlorn, like a half-deflated balloon. He stood waiting for Parker to tell him what to do next.
Parker said, “Tell them why I’m here.”
“Listen, honest to Christ, it ain’t the way “
“Tell them why I’m here.”
The player who did all the talking said, “Do what he says, Jake. I’d like to hear it myself.”
“They they sent down this gun from New York, for this guy here, this Parker. They said I was to I was to finger the job. That’s all it was, I swear to Christ.”
“The rest of it,” said Parker.
“That’s all! What else, for Christ’s sake?”
“You fingered me in the first place. That’s why the gun came down.”
The player said, “That’s between you and Jake, buddy. Don’t take it out on us.”
“It’s all the same Outfit. Give me your coat, Menner.”
“For Christ’s sake, Parker, I”
“Give me your coat.”
Stuttering, Menner took the coat off. Parker reached out for it, waiting for Menner to try flipping it in his face, but Menner was cowed. He handed it over without causing trouble, and stepped back to take his medicine.
Because it was such a light, untrustworthy gun, Parker pulled the trigger three times. He turned and went out the back way, clearing the back door before Menner hit the carpet or the other five could get out of their chairs.
3
PARKER SAT AT the writing desk fumbling with pen and paper, frowning. He wasn’t used to writing letters:
FRANK,
The Outfit thinks it has a greevance on me. It doesn’t. But it keeps sending its punks around to make trouble. I told their headman I’d give them money trouble if they didn’t quit, and they didn’t quit. You told me one time about a lay you worked out for that gambling place outside Boston, and you’d do me a favour if you knocked it off in the next couple weeks. I’m writing some of the other boys, too, so you can be sure they’ll be too busy to go looking for you special. I don’t want a cut and I can’t come in on the job because I’ll be busy making trouble myself. You can always get in touch with me care of Joe Sheer out in Omaha. Maybe we’ll work together again some day.
PARKER
It took three drafts to get it down the way he wanted it. He read the final version through, decided it was all right, and nodded to himself. Only one thing bothered him. He went over to the telephone, dialled the operator, and asked her to spell “grievance” for him, because he wasn’t sure he had it right. She checked with someone else, gave him the correct spelling, and he copied the letter over again.
He then went on to the other letters. They were easier, because he just copied the first one word for word, except for the particular job he wanted each man to do. In some cases there was no particular job, so he wrote instead: “Maybe you know some Outfit operation that would be an easy lay, and if you do you can do me a favour and knock it off in the next couple weeks.”
He completed six letters, and then looked out the window and saw it was daytime. The dry fountain looked like a remnant from a lost civilization. It was not quite seven o’clock, and he was back in 12 Floral Court, again. If the other poker players were anxious to get their money and wallets back they might be able to check back through Menner’s friends or other people in the Outfit and find out where Parker was supposed to be staying, so it would be a good idea to stay away from the hotel for a while. But none of them would be in any hurry to come back to Floral Court. There was a body in the bedroom closet.
Parker had run as far as the back yard; then he had turned to the left and run a distance of three courts. Behind him, he’d heard the poker players emerge. One of them had a flashlight, and all of them boiled out past the garages. He waited, and after a while they came back and went into the apartment. He kept waiting until he heard three cars start up out front on Rampon Boulevard. Then he went back in. The lights were off, the place was empty, and Menner was in the bedroom closet. The poker players would be running around establishing alibis.
In the sideboard in the dining room he found stationery and envelopes. He pulled the shade down in the living room, sat at the dining-room table, and started writing letters. After six of them, he went over to the window, pulled the shade away, looked out at the decaying fountain, and decided he’d waited long enough. He went back to the table and wrote one more letter:
BETT,
You took the gun, You want something from me and then you’ll give me the gun back. I don’t have time now to fool with you. I got to take care of the problem that put that Stern on my back. I’ll get in touch with you within a
