“I’ve never asked you to do anything for me, have I? Not once. I’ve done a lot for you. You have this apartment, the furniture, you have lots of things I have given you, but never once have I asked you to do anything for me… now, I’m asking. It’s important.”
She stared at him.
“I just have to say that you were here tonight and you didn’t leave?”
“That’s it. You say after we had dinner at Luigi’s we came back here and I didn’t leave here until eight o’clock in the morning. Get it? I didn’t move from here from ten tonight until eight tomorrow.”
Melanie looked down at her cold pancake.
“Well, if it’s so important, I guess I could say that,” she said doubtfully.
“That’s fine.” He wished he could convey to her how important it was. “So, okay, you’ll do it?”
“I don’t like doing it, but I’ll do it.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to control his exasperation.
“Baby, this is serious. The fuzz could yell at you. You know how the fuzz act. You must stick with this. Even if Massino bawls at you, you must stick with this… Do you understand?”
“Must I do it, Johnny? I’d rather not.”
He fondled her hand, trying to instil confidence in her.
“You’ll be repaying a debt, baby. Don’t you want to help me?”
She stared at him for a long moment, her eyes showing her fear, then she put her other hand over his and gripped it hard.
“Okay, Johnny… I’ll do it.”
And he knew by the tone of her voice she would do it and he relaxed.
He got to his feet and she came around the table to press herself against him. His hand slid up under her nightdress and cupped her heavy buttocks.
“I’ve got to get moving, baby,” he said. “See you tonight. Don’t worry… it’s nothing, baby… just a little lie.”
Leaving her, he ran down the stairs and to where he had parked his car. Ten minutes later, he was back in his apartment. He shaved and showered. As he stood under the cold water, he wondered if Melanie would have the guts to face Massino if things turned sour. Maybe she would. He touched his St. Christopher medal. The trick with this steal was not to let Massino nor the fuzz even suspect who had taken the money.
He drove up to Massino’s office, arriving there a few minutes to io.00. Toni Capello and Ernie Lassini were already there, propping up a wall in the office, smoking. Sammy came up the stairs as Johnny entered the office.
“Hi!” Johnny paused. “The big day. You got your uniform fixed?”
Sammy’s face was already glistening with sweat. There was a grey tinge under the black of his skin. Johnny could see he was scared to death and he knew Sammy’s panic would grow as the collection went on.
“Mr. Andy’s fixing it,” Sammy said huskily and moved into the office.
Toni and Ernie greeted them. The four men stood around for some minutes, then Andy came from his office with two collection bags. They were handcuffed together and there was a spare handcuff which Andy snapped on Sammy’s wrist and which was attached to one of the bags.
Toni said, “I wouldn’t have your job for a thousand bucks.” He was grinning, seeing Shimmy’s fear. “Man! Could some guy take a swing at your wrist with an axe!”
“Cut it out!” Johnny snapped, his voice dangerous. “No one’s swinging no axes.”
There was a sudden silence as Massino came into the office.
“All set?” Massino asked Andy.
“They’re on their way.”
“Well…” Massino grinned at Johnny. “So…” Johnny waited, his face expressionless.
“Last round-up, huh?” Massino said. “You’re going to do fine with the bandits, Johnny.” He looked at Sammy. “You’re going to do fine as my chauffeur. Okay, get moving. The Big Take!” He went to his desk and sat down.
As Toni and Ernie, followed by Sammy, moved to the door,
Massino said, “Johnny?”
Johnny paused.
“You got that goddamn medal on?” Massino was grinning.
“I’m never without it, Mr. Joe.”
Massino nodded.
“Watch it! You could need it on this trip.”
“We three will be watching it, Mr. Joe,” Johnny said quietly.
The four men left the office and walked down the stairs to Johnny’s car.
Five hours later, it was over. There had been no trouble. The police looked the other way when Johnny double parked, slowing the flow of traffic. Money rolled into the bags. Sammy, expecting to hear any second the bang of a gun and to feel a bullet smash into his body was almost gibbering by the time Johnny pulled up outside Massino’s office block.
Johnny touched him on his shoulder.
“Finished,” he said quietly. Now the Rolls.”
But Sammy still didn’t feel safe. He had to cross the sidewalk, dragging the heavy bags before he finally reached the haven of Massino’s office.
With Johnny at his side and Ernie and Toni, fanned out, their hands gripping their gun butts, he got out of the car and into the rain. He cringed at the crowd waiting around the entrance to the office block to cheer the four men as they arrived.
Then the blessed dimness of the lobby and the ride up in the elevator.
“How does it feel, boy, to be carrying all that dough?” Toni asked.
Sammy looked at him, then away. He was thinking that tomorrow he would be really safe, fitted with a grey uniform, wearing a peaked cap with a black cockade and at the wheel of a Corniche Rolls. After ten years of fear, he had come through without being shot at and without having his hand chopped off and now he was heading for pastures green.
With Johnny at his side, he shambled into Massino’s office and set down the two heavy bags on Massino’s desk.
Andy was there, waiting. Massino was chewing a dead cigar. As Andy unlocked the handcuff, Massino lifted his eyebrows at Johnny. It was a silent question: “No trouble?” Johnny shook his head.
Then came the ritual while Andy counted the money. It took some time. Finally, Andy looked at Massino and pursing his thin lips said, “This is the tops, Mr. Joe: one hundred and eighty-six thousand. Some take!”
Johnny felt a rush of hot blood down his spine. The jackpot! In a few hours this enormous sum of money would be his! A thirtyfooter? He would now be able to make new plans. A forty-five-footer now came into his mind.
He watched Andy tug the two bags into his office and after a moment or so, he heard the old-fashioned safe door clang shut.
Massino took from his desk drawer a bottle of Johnny Walker. Ernie produced glasses. Massino poured himself a generous shot, then offered the bottle to Johnny.
“Go ahead,” Massino said. “You’re my boy, Johnny. Twenty years! I wanted you to be in on the biggest take.” He leaned back, grinning. “Now, you’ve got a career ahead of you.”
Ernie poured the rest of the drinks. Sammy refused. There was a pause while the men toasted themselves, then the telephone bell started up and Massino waved them away.
As Johnny and Sammy walked down the stairs, Sammy said, “It’s been tough, Mr. Johnny and I’m sorry you and me won’t work together no more. You’ve been good to me. You’ve helped me. I want to say thanks.”
“Let’s go drink beer,” Johnny said and as he walked into the rain, he felt the spray of the sea against his face and the lurch of a fortyfive-footer beneath his feet.
They drank beer in the dimness of Friday’s, bar. “I guess this is
good-bye, Sammy,” Johnny said as Sammy waved to the barman for a second round. “You see… nothing ever happened all these years. You were scared about nothing.”
“I guess.” Sammy shook his head. Mere are folk who always worry and folk who don’t. You’re lucky, Mr.
