The Snake

'Nobody else,' he said gently.

'Business is business,' I grinned.

'So be it, Mike.'

'Sure, Charlie,' I told him.

He walked away and set up a couple for the hookers working the tourist traffic at the other end, then sort of stayed in the middle with a small worried expression on his face. Outside it was hot and sticky and here it was cool and quiet with the dramatic music of Frank's Symphony in D Minor coming through the stereo speakers too softly to be as aggressive as it should. It could have been a logical place for anybody to drop in for a break from the wild city outside.

One of the hookers spotted my two twenties, on the bar and broke away from her tourist friend long enough to hit the cigarette machine behind me. Without looking around she said, 'Lonely?'

I didn't look around either. 'Sometimes.'

'Now?'

'Not now,' I said.

She turned around, grinned, and popped a butt in her pretty mouth. 'Crazy native,' she said.

'A real aborigine.'

She laughed down in her throat. 'So back to the flatland foreigners.'

Jersey Toby waited until she left, then did the cigarette-machine bit himself before taking his place beside me. He made it look nice and natural, even to getting into a set routine of being a sudden bar friend and buying a drink.

When the act was over he said, 'Look, Mike...'

'Quit sweating, buddy.'

'You come for me or just anybody?'

'Just anybody '

'I don't like it when you don't come on hard.'

'A new technique, Toby.'

'Knock it off, Mike. Hell, I know you from the old days. You think I don't know what happened already?'

'Like what?'

'Like what's with Levitt and Kid Hand. You got rocks in your head? You think you can come shooting into the city any more? Man, things ain't like before. You been away and you should've stayed away. Now before you get me involved, let me tell you one big thing. Don't make me out a patsy. I ain't telling you nothing. Not one goddamn thing. Lay off me. I been doing a lot of small-time crap that don't get me no heat from either direction and that's the way I like it.'

'Great.'

'And no soft stuff too. Save that bull for the enlisted men.'

'What are you pitching now?'

'I'm a pimp.'

'You came down in the world.'

'Yeah? Well maybe I did, but I got bucks going for me now and a couple of broads who like the bit. I do it square and not like some of the creeps and on top there's enough juice to pay off who needs paying off, like. Y'know?'

'I won't eat your bread, kiddo.'

'Goddamn right.'

He sat there glowering into his drink, satisfied that he had made his point, then I reached over and took his hand and held it against my side where the .45 was strung and said, 'Remember?'

When he took his hand back he was shaking. 'You're still nuts,' he said. 'You ain't nothing no more. One push with that rod and you've had it. I'm still paying juice.'

This time I pulled the other cork. I took out the wallet and opened it like I was going to put my money back only I let him see the card in the window. He took a good look, his eyes going wide, then reached for his drink. 'An ace, Toby,' I said. 'Now do we go to your place or my place?'

'I got a room upstairs,' he told me.

'Where?'

'313'

'Ten minutes. You take off first.'

It was a back-alley room that had the antiseptic appearance of all revamped hotel rooms, but still smelled of stale beer, old clothes, and tired air. Jersey Toby opened a beer for himself when I waved one off, then sat down with a resigned shrug and said, 'Spill it, Mike.'

'Kid Hand.'

'He's dead.'

'I know. I shot him. The top of his head came off and left a mess on the wall. He wasn't the first and he probably won't be the last.'

Toby put the beer down slowly. 'You're nuts.'

'That's the best you can say?'

'No,' he repeated. 'You're nuts. I think you got a death wish.'

'Toby...'

'I mean it, Mike. Like word goes around fast. You don't make a hit in this town without everybody knowing. You was crazy enough in those old days, but now you're real nuts. You think I don't know already? Hell, like everybody knows. I don't even want to be in the same room with you.'

'You don't have a choice, Toby.'

'Sure, so I'll pay later. So will you. Damn, Mike...'

'Kid Hand,' I repeated.

'He took Tillson's job. Everybody knew about that.'

'More.'

'Like what, you nut! How the hell should I know about Kid? We ain't in the same game. I'm pimping. You know what he was? Like a big shot! Mr. Dickerson's right-hand boy. You think I'm going to... ?'

'Who?'

'Knock it off... you know.'

'Who, Toby?'

'Mr. Dickerson.'

'Who he, buddy?'

'Mike...'

'Don't screw around with me.'

'Okay. So who knows from Dickerson? He's the new one in. He's the big one. He comes in with power and all the hard boys are flocking back. Hell, man, I can't tell you more. All I know is Mr. Dickerson and he's the gas.'

'Political?'

'Not him, you nut. This one's power. Like firepower, man. You know what's happening in this town? They're coming in from the burgs, man. Bit shooters and they're gathering around waiting for orders. I feel the stream going by but I ain't fishing. Too long the mobs have been dead... now it's like Indians again. A chief is back and the crazy Soos is rejoicing. That's all I can say.'

'Kid Hand?'

'Crazy, man. A shooter and he knew where his bread was. He was on the way up until he decided to get back in the ranks again. He should've stayed where he was.'

'Why?'

'Why what?'

'He pulled on me. I don't take that crap.'

'He knew it was you, maybe? He knew it was anybody?'

'Somebody said he might have been doing a personal favor.'

Toby got up and faced the blank window. 'Sure, why not? Favors are important. It makes you look big. It