“Naw, give me the middle-newest. I don’t want to attract any attention to myself. I want to slip away from this hospital without anybody seeing me. And let Jackson drive it; nobody going to look at him twice.”
“Jackson!” Clay echoed. “Listen, Casper, I don’t want any shenanigans with my hearse. I never will forget the time Jackson was running all over town dodging the police with my hearse full of dead bodies.”
“What are you beefing about?” Casper said. “He made you a lot of business.”
“I’d rather get my business in the normal way; I’m not expecting a depression.”
“All right, Hank, have it your way. I just want to get this hearse over here at the back door at seven-thirty sharp.”
“The streets will be snowed under by that time,” Clay complained. “Can’t you make it earlier, or wait another day?”
“Naw. Just put some chains on it. And there’s going to be some boys of Joe Green’s following it. So don’t let that worry you.”
“Boys of Joe Green’s!” Gay exclaimed apprehensively. “Listen, Casper, if anything happens to my hearse, I’m going to bill the national party for it.”
“Okay, you do that. And tell Jackson to drive me first to my office on One-twenty-fifth Street.”
“Tell him yourself,” Clay said, losing interest and already drifting back to sleep.
Casper cradled the receiver and picked up his wrist watch from the night stand. It was thirteen minutes past five o’clock. He peered between the drawn curtains at the drifting snow. Everything that met his eye was white, except the gray sky. He selected a cigar, clipped it carefully, stuck one end between his lips and rolled it about. Then, he put it down on the edge of the night stand, picked up the receiver again and began dialing.
“Do you want an outside line?” the operator asked.
“What the hell do you think I’m dialing for,” he said.
He waited for the dial tone and began over. He heard the phone ringing at the other end.
A cool, contralto voice said, “Yes.”
“Leila. Casper,” he said.
“How are you, sugar,” she said in the same tone that she had said yes.
“Listen, I’ll be home around eight o’clock,” he said. His voice was as impersonal as hers. “I want you to stay there until after I get there-or say until nine o’clock. Then you can go wherever in the hell you want to. Understand?”
“I’m not deaf.”
“Naw, but you’re dumb sometimes.”
“That blow on your head hasn’t changed your disposition,” she observed.
“If anybody phones me, tell them I’m still in the hospital and won’t be home until Tuesday. Tell them I’ve had a relapse and am in a coma again. Get that?”
“Yes, sugar, I got it.” Under her breath she added, “And I’m going to keep it, too.”
“What’s that?”
“I didn’t say anything. Somebody must be talking on your end.”
“All right. And for once keep your lip buttoned up.”
“Is that all?”
He put down the receiver and reached for his cigar. Before he could pick it up, the phone rang. He picked up the receiver again.
“What is it?”
“Washington, D.C. calling,” the operator said “A Mister Grover Leighton. Shall I put him through?”
“Yes.”
Grover’s sunshiny, glad-handing Pennsylvania voice came on. “Casper. How are you?”
“Fine. Just resting. It’s all I can do at the moment.”
“That’s the thing to do. Just keep it up. We’ve all been worried about you.”
“Nothing to worry about. You can’t hurt an old dog like me.” Casper’s voice had taken on a subtle obsequious quality.
“That’s what I told them,” Grover said cheerfully. “And don’t you worry, either. We’ll come through again soon with the same score.”
“Oh, I’m not worrying about that,” Casper said. “But some of the city brass here have been making it a little rough.”
“For you?” Grover sounded slightly shocked. “Why so?”
“They’re trying to figure out how the hoods got the tipoff,” Casper said. “And the chief inspector claims that you told him that you had told me sometime early last week that you were stopping by last night with the payroll.”
There was a pause as though Grover was trying to remember. “Well, I guess I did tell him something like that,” he said finally. “But I thought I told you about it Wednesday, or was it Thursday, when we talked on the phone about the precinct units.”
“Listen, Grover, I want you to think, try to remember. Because I’m sure you didn’t tell me then. You might forget a thing like that, but I wouldn’t. All I’ve got to think of is my little group in Harlem, while you’ve got the whole country on your mind. And I’m sure I wouldn’t have forgotten your telling me that, because that’s what starts the cart to rolling.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Grover conceded. “It was in my mind to tell you, but it must have slipped. But that’s not important, is it?”
“Not to you and me; but the brass here are insinuating that the leak came from me.”
“My God!” Grover sounded really shocked. “They must be crazy. They’re not trying to push you around, are they?”
“Naw, it’s not that. But I don’t like all the innuendo, especially at the beginning of a campaign.”
“You’re right. I’ll telephone the chief inspector and put an end to that. And when they’re arrested we’ll find out where they got their information. But I telephoned you about another matter. I have asked the Pinkerton Agency in New York to keep an eye on you; we don’t want a duplication of this business, and we certainly don’t want anything to happen to you. And they are involved now also, since they lost one of their men.”
“You know I’ll co-operate, Grover. Be glad to. It’s as much to my interest as to anyone’s.”
“That’s what I told them. I asked them to arrange for an ambulance with a guard to take you home when you leave there-unless, of course, you have arranged something else.”
“Naw, I haven’t made any arrangements,” Casper said. “That suits me fine. One of the men phoned from the agency, said you had spoken to them. I told him I’d let him know in advance when I planned to leave.”
“Well, then, it’s all settled.” Grover sounded relieved. “Take care of yourself, Casper. We don’t want anything to happen to you. The Harlem vote is going to be mighty important in this coming election. It might mean the balance that will swing the whole state of New York in our favor.”
“I’m going to take damn good care of myself from now on,” Casper said.
Grover laughed. “Good fellow! Let us know if there is anything we can do for you.”
“Nothing at the moment, Grover. Thanks for everything.”
“Don’t mention it. We’ll be thanking you before it’s done with.”
When they had hung up, Casper lit his cigar and sat smoking it slowly, looking thoughtful.
“It’s in the fire now,” he said to no one, and picked up the receiver again.
“Give me a line, honey,” he said.
He dialed a downtown number.
“Now who can this be?” a voice of indeterminate gender asked with an affected lisp.
“Let me speak to Johnny.”
“Oh, and not with me?”
Casper didn’t answer.
“And who shall I tell him is calling, dear?”
“None of your God-damned business.”
“Oh! You’re rude!”
He heard the receiver dropped on a table-top. After what seemed to him much longer than was necessary, a pleasant male tenor voice said, “Hello, Casper, it couldn’t be anybody but you who’d be so unkind to Zog.”
