Harold Robbins Organized Crime Double Read online

  “Oh,” she said, “it’s you! I might have known it.”

  I got sore. I was getting sick and tired of her cracks about me all the time, and right now I didn’t feel like taking any crap from anybody. “If I’d’ve known it was you, I would’ve taken the long way around here. You’re the last person in the world I want to run into.”

  “What’s the matter, little boy? Can’t you take it?”

  “I can take it all right, but I’m getting a little bit tired of it. What have you got against me anyway?”

  “Nothing at all, little man,” she said half smiling. I recognized that smile. It was so like Marty’s. “I just think you’re a fake. You’re rotten and hard, and I don’t like people like that.”

  I was really mad now. “You’re not so hot yourself,” I said nastily. “You’re nothing but a mean, selfish, little bitch shooting off your mouth about people you don’t even know.”

  She moved her hand up to slap me in the face. She was quick but I was quicker. I caught her wrist and held it, and we looked at each other. Her eyes were blazing. We stood like that for a moment; then I let her arm go. I could see the white marks on her wrist where I had gripped it.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said, smiling now, for this was something I could understand. “It ain’t ladylike.”

  The blaze died down in her eyes, her face relaxed, and she tried to smile. That girl had guts. “You’re right, Frankie,” she said. “I’m sorry. I guess I never did give you a chance. Ever since…”

  “Ever since I hit Marty in the parlor at your house?” I interrupted.

  “No,” she said, “it wasn’t that. It was Julie.”

  “Julie?” I said, surprised. “You knew?”

  “I knew that Julie had a case on you and I guess I resented it. We were like sisters until you came along and changed things. She became very secretive and… I guess I was a little bit jealous of you. And after she went away she used to ask about you in her letters and send her regards to you, but I never told you.”

  The gong rang announcing the start of class but I didn’t go in. I wanted to know how much she knew of Julie and me. I took her arm and steered her down the hall away from the door. She walked with me willingly.

  “Why?” I asked her.

  “I told you why,” she said. “I was being kiddish. But now that’s over. I know. Julie’s married.”

  I felt an unexplained sense of relief at that. “When did you find out about Julie and me?” I asked her.

  “Oh, one Sunday when you two had come back from the beach and were standing in front of her door. I heard voices in the hall. I opened the front door of the apartment and looked out and you were kissing her. And that did it, as I didn’t like you much anyway on account of Marty.”

  “Oh!” I said. “Is that all?”

  “Isn’t that enough?” she said.

  I knew then and there that I didn’t have to worry about her anymore. I felt way older than her. I felt kind of gay and lightheaded. We were off in a corner of the hallway, and there weren’t any students around because the classes were in session.

  “A kiss isn’t anything,” I said. “I’ll show you!” I took her quickly by the shoulders and kissed her on the lips, then let her go. “See what I mean?”

  She started to raise her hand again.

  I put up my arm in mock self-defense. “Not that again!” I said smiling.

  She shook her head. “No, not again!”

  “Friends?” I asked, holding out my hand.

  “Friends!” she said, taking my hand.

  Solemnly we shook hands.

  “Gotta go,” I said. “Something about a class, remember?”

  I had gone almost half the distance to the classroom when a sound made me turn around and go back to her. She was crying.

  “What’s the matter, Ruth?” I asked. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be fresh.”

  “Nothing!” she sobbed. “Why don’t you go away and leave a girl alone when she wants to be, you—you big dumbbell!” And she turned and ran down the stairway at the end of the hall.

  “Women are nuts!” I was thinking as I entered the class and apologized to the teacher for being late.

  Mr. Weisbard was a regular guy. He smiled when I told him that class business had detained me.

  “Well!” he said in a stage whisper loud enough for them to hear down in the back row of the class. “Confidentially, Francis, I’d wipe some of that important class business off my lips before I sat down, if I were you.”

  22

  Someone grabbed me by the arm as I left the class. I turned around quickly. I was still a little sore about Mr. Weisbard’s gag. It was Marty.

  “Oh, it’s you!” I said.

  “Who’d you think it was?”

  “Nobody!”

  “Look!” he said, “Sam is down in the office now waiting to see Mrs. Scott. If you could kind of drop in casual-like and get to talkin’ with him sort of accidentally, it would be much easier for you.”

  “Whose bright idea is that?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Mrs. Scott’s,” he answered. “She’s keeping him waiting outside to give you a chance.”

  “All right,” I said, “but I’m going to need an alibi for my Spanish class.”

  “Mrs. Scott already thought about that,” Marty said. “She gave me a note to take up to your class for you.”

  “She thinks of everything, doesn’t she?” I said, still with sarcasm.

  “Almost!” Marty flung over his shoulder as he walked off.

  I went downstairs and into the office. Sam was sitting on a bench outside Mrs. Scott’s door. I looked at him as if I were surprised to see him there.

  “Hey, Sam!” I called across the room. “What are you doing down here?”

  “Hello, Frankie,” he said, smiling slowly. “I’m waiting to see Mrs. Scott.”

  I put my books on the table and walked over to him. “I just came down to get some papers,” I said irrelevantly, and sat down beside him. “What do you want to see that old bat for, anyway?”

  “I don’t want to,” he said. “I have to. I’m in a jam.”

  “Is it bad?” I asked.

  “Bad enough! It looks like they’re going to send me away,” he said with a certain tenseness around his mouth and a forced lightness in his voice.

  I looked at him. “Say, that is bad!” I said. “Anything I can do?”

  “I guess not,” he said, looking away from me. He was pretty close to crying.

  “Why in hell didn’t you see me before!” I asked. “I’m supposed to be class president and have some kind of pull but nobody ever tells me these things. Look, we’re friends and you did me some good turns. Supposin’ you come over to the other side of the room and tell me what it’s all about. Maybe I can help anyway. Can’t hurt to try. What do you say?”

  He looked at me. Hope seemed to flicker in his eyes. We got up and crossed the room and sat down by the window.

  “It all began last summer,” he said. “I wanted a job for the summer. We could use the money at home. I answered a couple of ads for messenger boys, but they didn’t want me because I was colored. I could’ve got some jobs as porter and things like that, but I wasn’t big enough. I could take out the old shine box, but you didn’t get much there. In the summer all the kids are out shinin’.”

  “You’re telling me!” I said. “I used to do it myself when I was down at the orphanage.”

  “You did?” he asked, then smiled. “Then you know how tough it is. Well anyway, one day one of the fellas come over to me and says: ‘Sam, why don’t you go junkin’?” Unconsciously his voice imitated the other fellow’s. “I said to him: ‘There ain’t enough in it.’ And he says: ‘There is the way we do it!’ ‘What do you mean?’ I says. ‘Look,’ he says, ‘you’re a regular guy. I know you been lookin’ for a job. I also know you cain’t get none. An’ I also know why. D’ya want me tuh tell ya why?’ ‘Why?’ I asks. ‘Cause you a
nigger, thass why!’ he says. ‘Whyn’t tell me something I don’t know!’ I says. ‘That ain’t all!’ he says. ‘It’s a cold deck we’re gettin’ up here in Harlem. We got fed a lot of bunk about opportunity an’ other crap, but thass all. I studied to be a bookkeeper up in school. I graduated with honors too—highest marks in the class. But when I goes out for a job thass another story. White boys, no matter how dumb they are, gets ’em. All we kin get is the crap, sweepin’ up the place. Well, to hell with ’em! Git whut yuh want an’ screw ’em!’ ‘It’s easy to talk big.’ I says. ‘I ain’t talkin’ big,’ he says, ‘I’m talkin’ straight stuff—top draw! Look, we got a guy who buys secondhand stuff, an’ he ain’t too particular about where it comes from. An’ he pays good money too. Man, don’t you ever get tired of bein’ screwed? Or are you like the rest of the dopes up here, lappin’ up the crap they feed yuh like it was cream?’ ‘Look,’ I says, ‘I ain’t no dope, but all yuh gotta do is get caught. Up you goes.’ ‘Balls!’ he says, ‘thass figured out too. Yuh see only you kids do it. If’n yuh get caught, you is just some kids havin’ fun, not realizin’ any harm would come of it. So yuh gets the piss balled out of yuh and gets sent home. But yuh don’t get caught. It’s all fixed.’ ‘How?’ I says.’ Thass my business. Out of my cut I pays off the cops. Whenever a job is pulled, the cop is down at the other end of the beat. But how I fixes him is my business. All yuh gotta do is what you’re told. Int’risted?’ ‘Maybe,’ I says, ‘I gotta think about it.’ ‘O.K.,’ he says, ‘but remembuh. Keep yuh lip buttoned or—!’ He made a slashin’ motion with his hands across his nuts an’ left me. I thought about it and decided to give it a fling. It sounded safe from where I was. But it wasn’t. We all got caught. He and the fence are in the clink now, and it looks like I’m going’ to keep them company.”

  “Boy,” I said, “this is a mess! But what has that to do with school here?”

  “Well,” he said, “after a while I got to thinking about what he said. And I kind of got the idea maybe he’s right. There ain’t no sense in going to school for an education they ain’t going to let you use. So whenever I’d get an odd job I’d cut school. I been on the hook quite a bit and I guess that is going to do the trick. It looks as if they’re going to hang me higher’n a kite.”

  I thought hard. For a while we just sat there not talking. He got up and looked out the window. “What the devil can I tell this guy?” I thought. “He knows more about what he’s up against then I.” I got up and stood next to him. “Look,” I said, “I’m going in to talk with her. I got an idea (I was lying—I didn’t have a thought)—maybe it’ll work. I’ll tell you when I come out.”

  I left him before he could frame a question, and went in to Mrs. Scott.

  She smiled at me. “Well, Francis?”

  I told her what he had told me.

  When I had finished she asked me if I had any suggestions.

  “Not a one!” I told her.

  “Well, I have,” she said, “If you were to ask him to be part of your class activities, it would help him feel he belongs. If you were to appoint him to one of the different committees you have an elective to, it might do the trick. And if you keep in close touch with him, you might overcome the beginnings of his prejudice.”

  “How can I do that?” I asked. “My appointments have to be approved by the G.O. council.”

  “I’ll see that it passes,” she said.

  “O.K., I’ll tell him,” I said, starting out.

  “Wait a minute, Francis,” she said. “Don’t tell him this was my idea. Tell him it’s yours. You see, from now on, you practically will be his guardian. He’ll be your responsibility. I hope he won’t let you down.”

  “I don’t think he will,” I said, walking out. At the door I stopped. “Do you still want to see him?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she said, “I want to impress him with the fact that if it weren’t for you he might not have this chance. You see I’m going to get you deeper into this than you thought.”

  “I know it,” I said, hand on the door, “but I was asking for it.”

  23

  Sam was given a job as assistant cashier in one of the lunch periods, and worked on the accounts of the general organization. He did his work well and was paid for the time he put in as well as given extra credit in his bookkeeping classes. His attendance and his marks improved. I saw him fairly often, sometimes going out of my way to look him up and talk to him. I thought he was doing all right.

  The time for election drew close. I did not want to run again. I was too busy with my other activities. At school, I had athletics and other social activities to occupy my time. Outside of school, I was catered to by my family and my friends. I felt the center of all important happenings. My world revolved about me.

  One afternoon we all went up to Janet’s house to talk things over—Janet, Jerry, Marty and I. We all lounged around. I snagged my favorite chair, her father’s easy chair, and put my feet up on the hassock in front of it. I liked the chair, not only because it was comfortable, but because in it I had the dominating part of the room. It was so situated that everyone in the room faced it. Jerry and Janet occupied the couch opposite me, and Marty sat on the small lounge near my right. I spoke first.

  “Look,” I said, “you all know I don’t want to run again. I have too many other things to do.”

  “But,” Jerry countered, “you can win. They know you and you’re popular. It’s as simple as that.”

  “Nuts!” I said. “There’s too much to do in the job and I don’t want it.”

  “I notice you haven’t been spending too much time at it,” Marty said. “Janet’s been doing all the dirty work.”

  “If Janet has any complaints,” I said quickly, “she’ll make them herself.” I turned to her. “What do you say?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No complaints.”

  “That’s that,” I said to Marty. “If you guys think the job is so good, why don’t one of you go after it?”

  “You know I can’t.” Marty answered. “I’ve a lot to do with Mrs. Scott’s work, and it’ll be very important to me when I get into college.”

  “O.K.,” I snapped, “then quit your beefing! What about you two?” I looked at Janet and Jerry.

  “Janet!” Marty cried, “Why a girl’s never been class president before.”

  “That doesn’t mean she can’t be,” I said. “How’s about it, Janet?”

  “Not for me!” she said. “I won’t stand a chance. But Jerry?” She looked at him.

  He sat quiet for a minute, the he smiled. He had a nice smile. “If this is the way you want it, I’m stuck with it on one condition.”

  Marty bit for the question but I saw it coming. “What’s that?” Marty asked.

  “Janet runs with me.” Jerry looked at her, smiling.

  “Of course Janet will run with you,” I said, glad to settle the question before she had time to speak.

  For a moment I thought Janet looked a little disappointed at my ready acceptance. But I could have been mistaken. It flashed away.

  And that’s the way it stacked up—through to their senior year.

  The next day Mrs. Scott stopped me in the hall. “I hear you’re not running again,” she said.

  I knew Marty had told her. “News travels fast!” I replied, smiling.

  “But I thought you had changed your mind after we spoke.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “What about the things I said you could do? Sam?” she asked.

  “Sam’ll be O.K.,” I said, “and Jerry can do those things. He likes it.”

  “You know, Francis,” she said, “I’ve a feeling I might have been wrong about you.”

  “You might have been,” I answered casually. “We all can make mistakes.”

  “I hope I haven’t,” she said, going into her office. “I liked you.”

  After Jerry and Janet had been elected I began to see less of the old class crowd than I had before. My abili
ties in athletics led to my association with more upper classmen, and I became more or less accepted in their crowd. I felt more at home with them than I did with the group in my class because I felt so much older than the children in my class.

  I cut down my visits and going out with Janet to about once a week. I went out with older girls. They were a little more wise and I used to get further.

  One day as I left school Jerry fell in step with me.

  “Hi!” I said.

  “Hi!” he answered. “What’s doin’? We haven’t seen much of you.”

  “I’ve been around,” I said easily.

  “I know,” he said. “So I’ve heard. Janet has too. And I don’t think she’s too happy about it.”

  “I’m no baby,” I said. “I can take care of myself—and Janet too.”

  “But Janet…?” He looked uncomfortable.

  “Janet and I are not tied together,” I said sarcastically.

  He grabbed my arm and I turned to face him. He had a serious look on his face. “You know, Frank, I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

  “So I said it! What are you going to do about it, big brother!”

  “Nothing. But you better forget that big-brother angle.” He let go of my arm and walked down the street whistling.

  I looked after him, wondering what was on his mind. “Oh well!” I thought. But just the same I went to see Janet that night.

  I got to her house about seven o’clock and rang the bell. She opened the door. When she saw me she smiled. “Come in, Frankie.”

  “Hello,” I said, walking in.

  We went into the parlor. Jerry and Marty were there. I was surprised to see them but I didn’t show it. I acted as if they were always there when I came.

  “Hi ya, fellas!” I said.

  “Well, what do you know,” Marty said to Jerry, “the gods descend from Olympus!” And then to me with a elaborate bow: “Greetings on thy return, O long lost brother!”

  “Wise guy!” I answered. “Don’t pay any attention to him, Jerry. The tongue runs in his family.”

  “What brings you here?” Marty asked.