goddamn it, he was looking like a dope addict all of sudden…
Then he hugged me.
And I hugged him back.
We held on to each other for a long time, and maybe we cried a little-that’s what Louella Parsons claimed in her column the next day, anyway. Nobody minded: this was Hollywood, where people displayed their emotions openly, and a lot of men liked to hug each other.
This was followed by a round of congratulations for Peggy and me, on our recent marriage, including admonitions from Barney and Cathy (and, for that matter, Eliot) for not being included in the wedding, and we were told the impromptu Vegas nature of it was no excuse.
Cathy gave up her seat and I got in next to my childhood pal. She and Peggy sat next to each other, holding hands and giggling (which was okay-a lot of the women in Hollywood liked to hug each other, too), coconspirators who had happily pulled something off. Cathy had also had some bit parts in movies and the two women had a lot in common.
Eliot and Fred, who knew each other well from Chicago, sat and chatted and caught up with each other, as Barney and I did the same.
“Why the hell did you go to a government hospital?” I asked him. “You could afford a private sanitarium, and those guys never talk about their patients.”
Cathy answered the question, or started to: “Barney didn’t want to keep this a secret-he wanted to go public with it.”
Barney shrugged, his smile rumpling his rumpled face further. “Best place to get the cure is a government hospital. They’re the toughest-you need that military kind of iron discipline to beat this thing.”
“What does Cathy mean,” I asked, “you wanted this made public?”
He shrugged again, sipped his beer. “There’s a lot of people, some of ’em just kids, who’re hooked on dope, too afraid and ashamed to look for help. Maybe somebody like me comin’ forward will help them get over that.”
Blue eyes sparkling, Cathy said, “I bet you didn’t know Eliot helped Barney make the original arrangements.”
Eliot didn’t notice himself being mentioned, he and Fred were so deep in conversation.
“No!” I said. “What’s that about?”
Barney said, “The Public Health Service Hospital at Lexington is designed for addicts who got caught committing a crime-you know, it’s one of those joints the courts order you to go to. Being admitted as a volunteer patient is a little trickier.”
“And Eliot helped?”
“Yeah, with friends of his over at the Treasury Department. Set it up so I could surrender to their district narcotics supervisor.”
I had a taste of my rum and Coke. I was trying to think of what to say, finally just blurted, “Listen, I’m not going to ask you how tough it was. I know it was tough…”
And it was like I’d turned a spigot.
“I’ll tell you this much,” Barney said, words streaming out. “The withdrawal gave me the miseries, ’cause the reduced dose of morphine wasn’t enough to kill the cramps and the sweats. I learned damn quick where that expression ‘kick the habit’ comes from, ’cause when they gradually cut down my dope, I got spasms in my arms and legs-I kicked like a chorus girl, without even trying. Then the nightmares, the delusions… I was back there, Nate. Back on the Island. I kept fighting the Japs in that muddy shell hole, over and over again… But now? Now I don’t have to go back there no more.”
He was gripping my arm, just above the wrist. I patted his hand.
“No, buddy,” I said, not quite sure whether he meant Guadalcanal or the rehab hospital. “No, you don’t. How long have you been clean?”
“Three months.”
“How come you aren’t skinny?”
He grinned. “Most addicts come in skin-and-bones, so they feed you this high-calorie diet-meat and eggs and potatoes. Man, have I porked up. Gotta get back to the gym.”
“Are you out for good? Are you sprung?”
Barney shook his head. “Officially, it’s just a furlough. In two months, I go back-they check me for dilated pupils and needle tracks and runny nose and the whole megillah… three days of testing.”
“But then…?”
“Then it’ll be over. I got my life back, Nate. Now all I got to do is get my wife back.”
Cathy-who had been right with us through all of this, smiling, encouraging-suddenly stiffened, and turned away.
“I’m not supposed to talk about that,” Barney said, with a pitiful grin. His voice was quavery. I knew he loved her like crazy. And I wondered why she seemed so supportive, yet insistent on going through with the divorce.
I learned the reason when Barney took Peggy out onto the dance floor.
Very quietly, Cathy told me, “Nate, you can’t repeat this. You have to swear you won’t share with this Barney.”
“Hey, I’m the guy who took his dope away from him, remember?”
“It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” she said, shaking her head, “telling Barney I wouldn’t take him back. But his doctors at Lexington talked to me-they told me to let the divorce go through.”
“What? Why?”
She glanced out where Barney and Peggy were dancing to “Come Rain or Come Shine.” “I’ve told Barney he has to prove himself, to win me back. If I take him now, the way I’m dying to, the doctors say he could lose his incentive.”
I was frowning. “Don’t you think he already has ‘incentive’ enough, Cathy?”
Firmly, she said, “I’ve told him if he’s still off that stuff a year from now, we can talk about remarriage. As for right now, the divorce will be final soon, and we won’t be living together.”
“Yeah, but if you were, you could watch him and-”
She shook her head again, dark tresses bouncing off her shoulders. “He has to do this himself, Nate-just like he checked into that hospital himself. If the disappointment of not immediately getting me back sends him reeling, reeling so bad that he starts back on the dope… then he isn’t cured.”
“Jeez-I don’t know, Cathy…”
“You promised me, Nate. You will respect my wishes on this.”
I smiled at her, nodded. “All right. But if it’s okay with you, I’m going to take the little bastard back in my life as of now.”
She beamed and squeezed my hand.
Eliot was out dancing with Peggy, and Barney with Cathy, when Fred and his big Havana slid over next to me. “You get a load of the rocks in the lobby?”
“Actually, no-missed ’em somehow.”
That Edward G. Robinson puss of his worked up a smirk; Fred was feeling pretty cute. “They’re in a glass case recessed in the wall. You can take a gander on the way out-thirty thousand in diamonds.”
Fred had told me earlier about the new Ringgold Jewelry display, which was making its debut tonight, replacing the ice that had been heisted by the McCadden Group.
“Just like I told ya they’d be, the brothers are here tonight, kicking off the new display-they’re gonna get introduced by Phil Ohman, to take a bow. That’s them, sitting ringside.” Fred used his Havana like a director’s baton, waving it toward distant tables. “That big bald guy with the glasses and the blonde-that’s Sid. The little bald guy with the glasses and the brunette-that’s Abe.”
“What’s the story on ’em, Fred?”
“Respected businessmen today, mob guys yesterday. Chicago boys, originally.”
“Then why don’t I know them?”
“Little before your time, Nate-the older one, Abe, was a Hymie Weiss bodyguard. Survived the hit on Hymie, back in, when was it, ’26? Lost two fingers, which was a bargain considering it was machine-gun fire, and relocated to New York, and went to work for Luciano. Brother Sid was an accountant, worked with Lansky. Abe did two years
