“See if he’s clean, Ann.”
“He’s clean,” Jesso said, but the woman started to pat his sides, without ever getting in the way of the gun.
“So smoke,” Bonetti said.
Jesso lit up and let them watch. He could tell they were getting puzzled.
“You know you made a mistake, don’t you, Bonetti?” The old man didn’t answer. His daughter poured a cup of the coffee that Jesso had been smelling and the old man started to slurp.
“This’ll ruin your setup, Bonetti, once the cops have been here.”
Bonetti just slurped.
“You should have asked my name, Bonetti.”
“And get a lie.”
Jesso sighed and took an elaborate puff on his cigarette. “I thought you might feel that way, Bonetti.” Then he leaned against the sewing machine, finished his cigarette, and just waited.
When the cop came charging into the store and through the curtain, nobody turned.
“That’s him,” Bonetti said, pointing with the gun.
The cop stumbled over the paper carton and knocked against Jesso. He grabbed him by the arm and held his. 38 against Jesso’s side. “What’s he done? Who’s preferring charges?”
Before Bonetti got his mouth open, Jesso turned his face to the cop.
“Nobody’s preferring charges,” he said.”
There was quite a pause when he was through.
Then Bonetti flicked the safety and put the gun down in his lap. “I am,” he said. “Breaking and entering.”
“Pops is balmy,” Jesso said. “We’re old pals having a chat. Then his mind starts to wander, you know how it is,” and Jesso moved to shake the cop’s hand off his arm.
But that didn’t come off, either. The young cop was a rookie and he wasn’t getting any of this. He grabbed Jesso’s arm and yanked.
“You resisting arrest, buddy?” His face came close.
“Heavens, I wouldn’t!” Jesso said. He grinned back at the cop.
“So don’t make suspicious movements,” the rookie said, and he waved his gun up and down.
“Before you shoot, Officer, I got a confession to make.” The cop waited. “Ever hear of Jack Jesso?”
The cop had, but he didn’t like being snowed. He turned back to the old man, but he wasn’t any help either. Bonetti had heard of Jack Jesso too. Bonetti sat still, waiting for the rookie to carry the ball.
“So what?” said the rookie. “I also heard of Jack Rabbit. Now move, buster. You, lady,” he nodded at Bonetti’s daughter, “better come along to the station.”
But Jesso didn’t move, and the woman didn’t move. Old Bonetti waved his hand at her and the woman stood still, waiting for somebody to make up his mind.
“I got more to confess, Officer,” Jesso said. “It’ll save you the trouble of facing up to a false-arrest charge.”
“Who’ll charge false arrest?” the rookie yelled.
“I will,” Jesso said. “Me. Jack Jesso.”
The cop stepped back. “Stick out your hands,” he said, and he fumbled for the handcuffs under his coat. He still held the gun in the other hand.
Jesso folded his arms. “I’ll save your job for you,” he said. “One phone call, rookie, and I save you your job.”
“Don’t move,” said the rookie.
“Or I’ll bust you back to civilian.”
“Stick out those wrists.”
“You don’t hear Pops preferring any charges, do you?”
That was true. Bonetti hadn’t said a word. He was chomping his gums and trying to look sly.
“One phone call, rookie, and the whole thing’s forgotten.”
“Don’t move,” said the rookie. He had started to sweat.
“I’m standing still,” Jesso said. “You make the phone call. What’s your precinct?”
The rookie told him.
“Call and ask for Captain Todd. Tell him I want to talk to him.”
Jesso could almost see the wheels going around in the cop’s head. He would be a fool to let this go by. Either way, how could he lose?
The cop made the connection and then Jesso took the phone.
“Ed? Jesso… Fine, fine. Listen, a man of yours asked me to call, for character reference, sort of. Tell him who I am and so forth… No, just a mix-up… No, no. Just a real alert kid. Wanted to make sure there was no mistake. Some loony called the cops thinking I was going to steal his wheel chair… No, honest. Here he is.” Jesso turned to the cop and gave him the phone.
It didn’t take long after that. The rookie hung up, holstered his gun, and put the handcuffs away. He gave Bonetti a dirty look, kicked the paper carton out of the way, and left. When the front door banged shut, Jesso walked over to the wheel chair and took the. 45 out of the old man’s lap.
“Nothing like a cop for a character witness, is there, Bonetti?”
The old man coughed. “How should I know who you was? You shoulda told me who you was.”
“And get told I’m a liar,” Jesso said. He tossed the gun on the sewing machine. “Where’s Joe Snell?”
“Look, Jackie.” Bonetti came wheeling across the room. “I gotta make a living. I never yet crossed a customer.”
“There’s no convincer like an honest cop, Bonetti.”
The old man squirmed in his chair. He rolled the wheels back and forth as if he were trying to twist them off.
“What are you worried about, Bonetti? You know I haven’t got a gun.”
“All right.” The old man sounded peeved. “Take him down.” He nodded at his daughter. “He only paid in advance till tomorrow.”
Bonetti’s daughter led the way through another room, into the kitchen, and stopped by a chipped piece of linoleum on the floor.
“Pick it up,” she said. “I ain’t so young any more.”
Jesso picked it up and then the trap door underneath. The woman climbed down the stairs, grunting each time she took a step. She waited for Jesso in the basement.
It stank. It wasn’t just the mold and the dead air, but other things too. Behind a coal bin, in a thing like a storage closet, there was a cot under a dim window.
The first thing Jesso saw about the man was his eyes. They glittered like the buttons upstairs.
He lay on the cot, face up, and he was mumbling without ever moving his lips.
“He’s sick,” Jesso said. “Has he seen a doctor?”
The old woman made a motion with her mouth, turned, and went back up the stairs.
The man on the cot was lying as before. His bony head looked white and his hair started far back.
“You Joseph Snell?”
His eyes blinked and he started to chatter.
“Look pal. I’m not getting a word of this,” Jesso said.
“They can’t wait,” the man was saying. “Can’t much longer. I told him. Kator knows it.”
“You’re Snell, all right.” Jesso leaned closer. “You wanna glass of water?”
“But you gotta have both. I got it, I got it. Honeywell-You were sixteen, my village queen-” he started to sing.
Jesso picked up the milk bottle at the foot of the bed and sloshed the liquid around. It was water.
“Here, take some.” He held the man up by the neck, forced the bottle through the man’s teeth, and poured. Snell started to drink. His eyes focused suddenly and he sat up. He spat out the water and pushed the bottle away.
“Did you hear?” he said. “A beauty. Man, such a beauty!”
