add up to “seeing it all,” or experiencing the big picture of crime and justice in the City.
“Come on,” said the younger man. “You’ve been at the Vaults forever.” He then asked a succession of questions about mobsters and psychopaths who had enjoyed brief flings with notoriety in the recent past. Puskis indulged these questions as a way of passing the time and on the theory that there could be no harm in ingratiating himself with his minders.
The checks arrived, creating an uncomfortable moment. The Mustache gathered them up, but Puskis insisted on paying for his himself.
“I’ll take care of it, Mr. Puskis.”
“I’m sorry to be a bother, but I have my money. You gave it to me. I would much prefer to handle my own affairs as much as possible. Surely that can’t be a problem for you?”
The Mustache puckered his face in annoyance and gave a dismissive wave of the hand. It wasn’t worth an argument.
Puskis handed his bill to the man at the register, a Hungarian named Ferenc.
“Could I keep the slip?” Puskis whispered.
Ferenc leaned in. “What’s that again?” Mimicking Puskis’s hushed tone.
Puskis looked over at the two ASU men at his table. They were looking at him but not really watching.
“I need the slip.”
Ferenc followed Puskis’s glance to the two officers, then looked back at Puskis. “Of course.” He slid the slip across the counter. They exchanged payment and change, and Puskis scooped up the slip along with the bills.
“Thank you,” Puskis said. “Will you be here tomorrow morning?”
Ferenc nodded.
“Then I will have something for you.”
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
Red Henry and Ian Block sat next to each other in an otherwise empty sauna at the Capitol Club. Henry sat with his hands on his knees and his elbows pointed outward. The heat had caused red blotches to emerge on his massive back. Block, not even half of Henry’s size and darker complected, leaned back into the raised bench.
“So the Poles are going to come around,” Block said.
Henry nodded.
“Peja said it was you scaring that little ratfuck union commie goatfucker. What’s his name?”
“Enrique Dotel.”
“Yeah, Dotel. Peja told me he pissed his goddamn pants. Said you hung him out the window by his ankles and he pissed his pants. Said the Poles loved it.”
Henry nodded.
“What’s wrong, Your Honor?” Block said, gently mocking.
Henry turned to Block. “Where are the others?”
“What? You mean Altabelli and Bernal?”
Henry nodded.
“Altabelli, it’s his anniversary. He’s been married to that Jane for twenty-five years, if you can believe it.”
“I know it’s his goddamn anniversary,” Henry snapped. Block was a misogynist, and while it could be amusing at times, it generally pissed Henry off.
“Bernal said he had a meeting.”
“Who with?”
Block shrugged, but Henry wasn’t looking at him now and missed it.
“Who with?” he repeated louder.
“I don’t know,” Block replied quickly. “He didn’t say, I didn’t ask. What’s eating you?”
Henry turned again to face Block. “Who would be the first to betray us?”
“Betray us?”
“Yes. The four of us: you, me, Altabelli, and Bernal. Who would be the first to betray us?”
Block looked surprised, but then warmed to the question. “Well, I figure it wouldn’t be you, and I know it wouldn’t be me.”
Henry nodded, eyes on his steepled fingers.
“So Altabelli and Bernal. I don’t know. You think someone turned?”
“Just answer the question,” Henry said with a seriousness that had Block concentrating on the question again.
“I don’t know. It’s a hard one. I had to say one, I guess I would finger Bernal. He’s so goddamn nervous sometimes. Why?”
Henry rubbed his face with his giant hands. “I don’t know. I’ve got a feeling. Things are getting dicey. I told you that this clerk from the department went looking for Reif DeGraffenreid?”
Block nodded and leaned forward.
Henry continued, “So I put Smith on him, follow him around a little. Guy never leaves his office. But the other day, who pays him a visit? Frank Frings. And then goddamn Frings writes a column that says he’s met with these guys that’ve been planting the bombs.”
“So you think this clerk is the bomber?” Block asked, puzzled.
Jesus Christ. “Of course not. We’ve got a couple of guys chaperoning him, but not for that reason. He’s harmless except that he went looking for goddamn DeGraffenreid. So I’ve got two problems. One, these bombers Frings says he’s met with. Two, this clerk found out about DeGraffenreid and then talked to Frings. So on the one hand I need Frings to tell me who the bombers are, and on the other hand I need him to not look