would fall so soundly asleep she would not stir until morning. She was a great sleeper. I was lousy at it.
“Yes,” I said. “I want to work. I’m too excited about the trip to sleep anyway.”
It was nearly midnight, but she went into the kitchen to make me a fresh pot of coffee and some sandwiches. I would work until three or four in the morning and then still wake up before she did in the morning.
The worst part about being a writer, anyway for me when I was working well, was the inability to sleep. Lying in bed, I could never turn off the machine in my brain that kept thinking about the novel I was working on. As I lay in the dark, the characters became so real to me that I forgot my wife and my kids and everyday life. But tonight I had another less literary reason. I wanted Vallie to go to sleep so that I could get my big stash of bribe money from its hiding place.
From the bedroom closet way back from its darkest corner I took my old Las Vegas Winner sports jacket and carried it into the kitchen. I had never worn it since I had come home from Las Vegas three years ago. Its bright colors had faded in the darkness of the closet, but it was still pretty garish. I put it on and went into the kitchen. Value took one look at it and said, “Merlyn, you’re not going to wear that.”
“My lucky jacket,” I said. “Besides, it’s comfortable for the plane ride.” I knew she had hidden it way back in the closet so that I would never see it and never think to wear it. She hadn’t dared throw it out. Now the jacket would come in handy.
Vallie sighed. “You’re so superstitious.”
She was wrong. I was rarely superstitious even though I thought I was a magician and it’s really not the same thing.
After Vallie kissed me good-night and went to bed, I had some coffee and looked over the manuscript I had taken from my desk in the bedroom. I did mostly editing for an hour. I took a peek into the bedroom and saw Vallie was sound asleep. I kissed her very lightly. She didn’t stir. Now I loved it when she kissed me good-night. The simple, dutiful, wifely kiss that seemed to seal us away from all the loneliness and treacherousness of the outside world. And often lying in bed, in the early-morning hours, Vallie asleep and I not able to sleep, I would kiss her lightly on the mouth, hoping she would wake up to make me feel less lonely by making love. But this time I was aware that I had given her a Judas kiss, partly out of affection, but really to make sure she would not awaken when I dug out the hidden money.
I closed the bedroom door and then went to the hail closet which held the big trunk with all my old manuscripts, the carbon copies of my novel and the original manuscript of the book I had worked on for five years and had earned me three thousand dollars. It was a hell of a lot of paper, all the rewrites and carbons, paper I had thought would make me rich and famous and honored. I dug underneath to the big reddish folder with its stringed cover. I pulled it out and brought it into the kitchen. Sipping my coffee, I counted out the money. A little over forty thousand dollars. The money had come rolling in very fast lately. I had become the Tiffany’s of bribe takers, with rich, trusting customers. The twenties, about seven thousand dollars’ worth, I left in the envelope. There were thirty-three thousand in hundreds. I put these in five long envelopes I had brought from my desk. Then I crammed the money-filled envelopes into the different pockets of the Vegas Winner sports jacket. I zipped up the pockets and hung the coat on the back of my chair.
In the morning, when Vallie hugged me good-bye, she would feel something in the pockets, but I would just tell her it was some notes for the article I was taking with me to Vegas.
Chapter 14
When I got off the plane, Cully was waiting for me at the door of the terminal. The airport was still so small I had to walk from the plane, but construction was underway to build another wing to the terminal-Vegas was growing. And so was Cully.
He looked different, taller and slimmer. And he was smartly dressed in a Sy Devore suit and sports shirt. His hair had a different cut. I was surprised when he gave me a hug and said, “Same old Merlyn.” He laughed at the Vegas Winner sports jacket and told me I had to get rid of it.
He bad a big suite for me at the hotel with a bar stocked with booze and flowers on the tables. “You must have a lot of juice,” I said.
“I’m doing good,” Cully said. “I’ve given up gambling. I’m on the other side of the tables. You know.”
“Yeah,” I said. I felt funny about Cully now, he seemed so different. I didn’t know whether to follow through with my original plan and trust him. In three years a guy could change. And after all, we had only known each other a few weeks.
But as we were drinking together, be said with real sincerity, “Kid, I’m really glad to see you. Ever think about Jordan?”
“All the time,” I said.
“Poor Jordan,” Cully said. “He went out a four-hundred grand winner. That’s what made me give up gambling. And you know, ever since he died, I’ve had tremendous luck. If I play my cards right, I could wind up top man in this hotel.”
“No shit,” I said. “What about Gronevelt?”
“I’m his number one boy,” Cully said. “He trusts me with a lot of stuff. He trusts me like I trust you. While we’re at it,
I could use an assistant. Anytime you want to move your family to Vegas you got a good job with me.”
“Thanks,” I said. I was really touched. At the same time I wondered about his affection for me. I knew he was not a man who cared about anyone easily. I said, “About the job I can’t answer you now. But I came out here to ask a favor. If you can’t do it for me, I’ll understand. Just tell me straight, and whatever the answer is, we’ll at least have a couple of days together and have a good time.”
“You got it,” Cully said. “Whatever it is.”
I laughed. “Wait until you hear,” I said.
For a moment Cully seemed angry. “I don’t give a shit what it is. You got it. If I can do it, you got it.”
I told him about the whole graft operation. That I was taking bribes and that I had thirty-three grand in my jacket that I had to stash in case the whole operation blew up. Cully listened to me intently, watching my face. At the end he was smiling broadly.
“What the hell are you smiling at?” I said.
Cully laughed. “You sounded like a guy confessing to a priest that he committed murder. Shit, what you’re doing everybody does if he ever gets the chance. But I have to admit I’m surprised. I can’t picture you telling a guy he has to pay blackmail.”
I could feel my face getting red. “I never asked any of those guys for money,” I said. “They always come to me. And I never take the money upfront. After I do it for them, they can pay me what they promised or they can stiff me. I don’t give a shit.” I grinned at him. “I’m a soft hustler, not a hooker.”
“Some crook,” Cully said. “First thing, I think you’re too worried. It sounds like the kind of operation that can go on indefinitely. And even if it blows up, the worst that can happen to you is that you lose your job and get a suspended sentence. But you’re right, you have to stash the dough in a good place. Those Feds are real bloodhounds, and when they find it, they’ll take it all away from you.”
I was interested in the first part of what he said. One of my nightmares was that I would go to jail and Vallie and the kids would be without me. That’s why I had kept everything from my wife. I didn’t want her to worry. Also, I didn’t want her to think less of me. She had an image of me as the pure, uncorrupted artist.
“What makes you think I won’t go to jail if I'm caught?” I asked Cully.
“It’s a white-collar crime,” Cully said. “Hell, you didn’t stick up a bank or shoot some poor bastard store owner or defraud a widow. You just took dough from some young punks who were trying to get an edge and cut down their Army time. Jesus, that’s some unbelievable scam. Guys paying to get into the Army. Nobody would believe it. A jury would laugh themselves sick.”
“Yeah, it strikes me funny too,” I said.
