snow.'
Randy said, 'They ski in Ohio?'
'They got a hill there. This fella in the bar gimme a smart mouth, looking for it. I hit him with a Bud Light. He come out with a pistol and I took it off him and he got shot as we tussled.'
'You killed him?'
'Yeah, but the witnesses, fellas that worked at the ski area? They said he started it, so it wasn't called murder. I did forty months. Mr.
Rossi said I coulda done 'em standing on my head. Oh, and I killed another fella while I was inside, shanked him out'n the yard, but nobody saw it. Two hundred convicts out there, nobody saw it.'
'Why'd you kill him?'
'Teach him a lesson. He's one of the fellas leaning on my friend Mr. Rossi.'
'Have you done anything like that for Moraco?'
'One time, yeah. Was a Chaldean bookie lived over by Dearborn?
I was only the driver, but this Tootsie Roll they hired got nervous or something, I don't know. I took his pistol and shot the Chaldean through the heart. I still only got my wages.'
'Moraco didn't respect you for that?'
'I told you, I don't respect him, and he knows it.'
Randy said, 'Mutt, you've been here nine months, and you know something? You've never told me your real name.'
'You never asked. It's Searcy J. Bragg, Jr.'
'Where'd you get Mutt?'
'When I was at Southern Ohio my cellmate's name was Jeff? He was a big tall fella, so I got called Mutt. You get it? He was hurt pretty bad, some boys come after him during the prison riot? You might've heard of it. Left the place a mess, I'm telling you.'
'You don't mind being called Mutt?'
'It's okay.'
Randy eased back in his chair, got comfortable and locked his fingers behind his head. 'Well, Searcy-'
The Mutt stopped him. 'I like Mutt better'n Searcy. How'd you like to be name Searcy?'
'I think I'd change it.'
'When I was fighting I was called Banger, Banger Bragg, but I never much cared for it, either.' He raised his right fist to show B-A-N-G tattooed on his knuckles. 'My right hook's my banger.'
Randy started over. 'Well, Mutt, we're in some kinda fix here, aren't we?' Randy's voice taking on the trace of an accent it never had before. 'How to deal with Mr. Moraco. You know something? I think he's skimming off a that eight grand, keeping maybe half of it for himself. See, with his boss in federal court- You know about that, don't you, the trial going on?'
'Yes sir, it's in the newspaper.'
'But Moraco isn't on trial, is he? Why you suppose he wasn't brought up?'
'I guess 'cause he's smart,' the Mutt said, 'never talked business anyplace they coulda hung a wire. Not even in his car. They say the gover'ment's still trying to put something on him.'
'So while he's walking around free,' Randy said, 'I don't imagine Mr. Amilia's paying much attention to him. Old Tony's got his own problem, how to stay out of jail.' Randy paused before he said, 'Just out of curiosity, how much do you normally charge to take somebody out?'
'Kill'm? I don't have a set price,' the Mutt said. 'How much is it worth to you?'
Randy was ready. He eased forward in his chair to rest his arms on the desk and look directly at the Mutt.
'I can go twenty-five.'
'Twenty-five what?'
'As much as you make in a whole year, twenty-five thousand dollars.
Cash or check.'
'Okay.'
'Really?'
'Yeah, I'll doer.'
Randy sat back, but then came forward again.
'How?'
'I prefer to shoot him.'
'You have a gun?'
'I can get one. After, I'll have to take off, as they're liable to find out was me.'
Randy said, 'Yes, I would, too.' He waited a few moments and said, 'Well…' and waited again.
'One time,' the Mutt said, 'I thought I'd try stickin' up places, see if I was any good at it? So I went in a it was like a drugstore only it sold all kinda stuff. I went up to the girl behind the counter and said, 'You see this?' and opened my jacket.'
'You exposed yourself.'
'I showed her the pistol tucked in my pants. She looked at it, then looked up at me and said, 'Yeah?' '
'I said, 'Aw, fuck it,' and left. That girl was too dumb to rob.' He paused again, said, 'Okay then,' got up and walked out.
Randy watched him, fascinated.
16
CARLO SAW THE BLACK LEATHER jacket sliding into Booth Number One, looked past to the reservations stand where Heidi should be-no Heidi, nobody-and got to the booth as fast as he could make his way through the tables.
'Sir, I'm very sorry but this booth is reserved.'
The one in leather, his hair pulled back severely into a ponytail, said, 'That's right, garson, I reserved it.'
'Sir, I know the party-'
'What's the name?'
'I know them personally, they come here--'
'It's after ten. Don't look like they're gonna show.'
'Sir, I'm very sorry, but you must have a reservation. Fortunately I can seat you, if you would come this way.'
'No, this works for me,' the one in leather said. 'Don't worry about it.' Now he looked up, his face becoming more pleasant. 'And here's the rest of my party.'
Carlo turned to see a young lady in an inexpensive raincoat and a priest. A priest? Yes, helping her off with the coat and Carlo was confused; he couldn't see this one in the booth in the company of a priest.
He said, 'Father, how are you this evening? I'm afraid we have a misunderstanding about the table.'
The priest said, 'No, it's fine,' handing him the raincoat. 'Check this for us, would you, please?' He turned to the table where the young lady in her plain black sweater and skirt was already sliding in.
Carlo said, 'Wait, please,' wanting to ask, Who are you people?
Now she was seated and he turned again to the priest, who seemed patient, reasonable, and said to him, 'Father, I'm very sorry to tell you this booth is reserved for another party,' Carlo sounding disappointed.
'I wish with all my heart I could say yes, please, stay here.
But I cannot. I have a table over there-you see it?-and a very nice one closer to the music. You can listen and enjoy as you dine.' He heard the one in leather call it 'elevator music,' and the young lady, looking around, say, 'It's cooler than I thought it would be. Fran's fulla shit, it doesn't look like a men's club.' The leather one said a friend had told him there were ice cubes in the urinals, and the young lady said 'Doesn't that make the drinks taste funny?' Carlo heard the priest say, 'You sure you want to stay here?' The leather one answered him, 'We're here,
