Toughs Read online

  "Yeah? Is that right?"

  "What are you doing here?" Loretto asked. "According to the newspapers, Vince and his gang are hiding out in Canada."

  "Canada," Mike said and laughed. "We're up in Albany."

  "Albany?" Augie looked surprised. "What's Diamond say about that?"

  "We're in business with him." Mike leaned back against the chimney. He seemed suddenly tired. "Vince bought himself a one-third share of the bootlegging end. It's him and Jack and Joe Rock running things."

  Freddie said, "Ain't Rock the one Vince blinded?"

  "He's still got one good eye," Mike said.

  "Vince is in business with one guy he tried to kill and the other guy he blinded." Augie turned to Loretto as if he needed someone to confirm how crazy that was.

  "They're all bosom buddies now," Mike said. "They're building a new airstrip to fly the hooch in from Canada."

  "What's Dutch think of that?" Loretto asked. "And the Combine."

  "Not much," Mike said. "But they were looking to kill Diamond and Vince anyway, so it don't really matter."

  "Mike," Augie said, "are you blinder than Rock? Where do you think this is all headin'?"

  "We're bringing in high-quality booze. Dutch and the boys'll have no choice but make nice."

  "And what about the cops and the FBI?" Freddie said. "Are they gonna make nice?"

  Mike reached into his pocket for a cigarette. "What do you want me to do?" he asked. "Take it on the heels?"

  "Hey, Mike," Freddie said. He undid his belt buckle and unbuttoned his pants. "I want to show you something."

  "What are you doing?" Augie put a hand on Freddie's shoulder, and Freddie shrugged it off. "What's wrong with you?"

  Freddie pulled down his pants and underwear. "See this?" he asked. He lifted his penis, showing Mike a nasty pair of scars on either side of the foreskin. "You know what that is?"

  "Jesus," Mike said. "Put your pants on, Freddie."

  "Answer me. You know what that is?" Freddie lifted his penis higher and turned it to each side, showing bright red welts against the dark skin.

  "Looks like scars," Mike said, his voice full of disgust. "What the hell happened?"

  Freddie pulled up his underwear and went about buttoning his pants and clasping his belt. "That's what they do to you in Elmira," he said. "They put a metal ring through your dick."

  The boys all watched Freddie in silence. Finally Augie said, "Why would they do that?"

  "Supposed to keep you from engagin' in sexual activity," Freddie said, "but it's just the screws makin' your life miserable any way they can. They like it."

  "Come to think of it," Mike said, "yeah, I heard they do that to some guys."

  "Anybody they don't like," Freddie said. "That and a hundred other things, like beatin' you with a rubber hose so the marks don't show."

  "I get the picture," Mike said.

  Augie put a hand on Mike's arm. "So what are you doing here?" he asked. "You come to see Mom? Are you alone?"

  "I wanted to see all of you," Mike said, "but I been thinking about Mom being worried about me. I thought if she saw me . . ."

  Loretto asked, "You come all the way from Albany?"

  "It ain't that far," Mike said. "I come down with Vince and Lottie. They dropped me off so I could see Mom."

  "What's Vince doing in the city?" Loretto asked. "He's crazy coming here."

  "He's got twenty-five grand in his pocket to rub out somebody, and that's only half payment, so it's got to be somebody big."

  "Fifty grand?" Loretto said. "Who's payin' him?"

  "He ain't sayin'." Mike looked at the cigarette in his hand as if he'd forgotten he was holding it. "He's been tight-lipped. I only found out about the fifty grand from Lottie." He lit his cigarette.

  "Fifty grand's a big deal. Got to be Dutch or Big Owney, somebody like that," Augie said.

  "Could be Dutch," Loretto said, "and Diamond doing the payin'."

  "Nah," Mike said. "Why would Jack pay Vince fifty grand to do something he knows he'd do for free? Happily."

  "Besides," Augie said, "if there was some way for Vince to get to Dutch, he'd have done it already."

  "So who?" Loretto asked. "Big Owney? Ciro Terranova?"

  "We'll find out soon enough," Mike said, and then he nodded toward the skylight, where Gina had just climbed up from the apartment below.

  Gina stepped onto the roof with a smile for the boys, a smile that disappeared at the sight of Mike leaning against the chimney and smoking a cigarette.

  "Uh-oh," Mike said as Gina approached. "Looks like I'm in trouble."

  "How'd you get up here?" Gina crossed her arms over her breasts and shouldered Freddie out of the way so that she could stand face to face with Mike.

  "I flew," Mike said, and the words weren't fully out of his mouth before Gina slapped him, knocking the cigarette out from where it was dangling between his lips.

  "Hey!" Mike took a quick step toward Gina and was instantly restrained by Augie just as Freddie took Gina by the arm and pulled her back.

  "You ain't my mother!" Mike yelled. "You ever slap me again, I'll slap you right back."

  "Go ahead," Gina said. She yanked free of Freddie. "Go ahead, slap your sister," she said. "Tough guy!"

  "Ah, quit it," Mike said. He fell back against the chimney and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. "You know I ain't gonna slap you, Gina. You just got me riled is all." He took a cigarette from his pack and shook another loose for Gina.

  Gina took the cigarette and let Mike light it for her. When she took the first drag, she was calm, and then a second later she covered her eyes with her hands. Freddie put his arm around her, but she pushed him away.

  "Gina," Mike said, "I'm gonna be okay. I swear it."

  "No, you're not," she said, her eyes still hidden. "You won't be okay, that's what you don't get." She took a deep breath and finally looked at Mike again. "Listen," she said, "I don't know how you got up here, but you can't stay. The cops are looking for you here, and who knows who else. It's too dangerous."

  "I can't stay in my own home?"

  "Gina's right," Augie said. "The cops busted in and arrested you with Mom right there . . . It'd be too hard on her, Mike."

  "So, what?" Mike said. "I can't even go down and see her?"

  Gina said, "If they're watchin' with binoculars and I go down and close all the blinds, I might as well be sending them a telegram: Come get him. Mike's visiting."

  "Ah, for Christ's sake," Mike said.

  "You can stay with me if you need a place," Loretto said. "Dominic's staying at Gaspar's tonight."

  "Thanks," Mike said. He turned back to Gina. "Really?" he asked. "I can't go down and see Mom."

  "Mike," Gina said, "the cops could come in shootin', looking to kill you. After what happened with the Vengelli boy, they'd pin a medal on their chests for killing you."

  Freddie said, "We can talk up here till it gets dark; then you can go back over the rooftops."

  Loretto said, "I'll pick you up around the corner. In the alley by the bakery."

  "Thanks," Mike said to Loretto. To Gina he said, "Jeez. I really wanted to see Ma."

  Gina covered her face with both hands as if she were a kid again, playing hide-and-seek. She was thinking maybe Mike could talk to Mama through the skylight when, as if she had read her mind, her mother's voice came up from the boys' room. "Eh!" she called onto the roof. "I made some espresso! Who wants?"

  Mike looked to Gina, and Gina said, "Go ahead."

  Loretto moved closer to Gina while Freddie and Augie stood together side by side, leaning against the flat brick wall of the chimney. The sun had disappeared from the sky, and though it wasn't quite dark yet, night was coming on fast and it was growing both windier and colder. When Mike reached the skylight, Mrs. Baronti shouted his name in a way that was part scream and part lament. He fell to his knees, said, "Ma, wait, don't come up," and he reached down through the opening. The way his right shoulder dipped, it was c
lear Mrs. Baronti had grabbed him by the hand. It looked like she was trying to pull him down into the apartment.

  "Jesus," Gina said and looked away as if she couldn't bear it. Behind her, the boys were also looking away, out over the rooftops.

  Loretto watched Mike a moment longer—the way he knelt over the skylight on all fours like a dog, his right arm straining against being pulled in—before joining the others. He put his arm around Gina's waist as the shadows darkened and settled over the surrounding roofs. Behind him, Mike's and Mama Baronti's voices were a murmur, rising and falling, blown around by the wind. He waited, with Gina and her brothers, and tried not to listen.

  8:40 p.m.

  Gina watched from the chimneys, with Augie alongside her, as Mike leaped to the adjoining roof and slipped away into a maze of shadows. Freddie was in the kitchen with Mama, comforting her as best he could. Loretto had left earlier and would be waiting by now to pick up Mike by the bakery. Gina hugged herself to ward off the cold. She thought she should spend the night, and probably she would, though she didn't know what to say to her mother. She wasn't in any hurry to go back down to the apartment.

  When Augie said, "Come on," gently, meaning it was time to go back in, Gina turned on him. "What are we supposed to tell Mom now?" she asked. "Did you hear that crap Mike fed her? He's working as a driver for a trucking company? It's all a mix-up the cops are looking for him? For Christ's sake, Augie."

  Augie said, "Mom won't ask us nothing. You don't have to worry about what to tell her."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Use your head." Now Augie seemed angry. "Mom's not stupid. Did we ever get away with lying to her when we were kids?"

  "Okay," Gina said, "but this is different."

  "It's not different." Augie turned his back to the wind, lit a cigarette, and handed it to Gina.

  Gina said, "Thanks," and watched him light one for himself. "You're saying Mom knows what's going on?"

  "I'm saying she don't want to know." Augie looked to the skylight as if checking to see if his mother might be listening. He stroked his Adam's apple. "What can she do?" he said, half talking to himself. "Better not to know."

  "And leave us to worry about it."

  "Yeah," Augie said. "That's right. She did the best she could raising us. Now it's our turn. Now we worry about each other. And about Mom."

  "All right," Gina said, "then what about it? What about Mike?"

  "Mike's on his own for now. I got Freddie to worry about. And you."

  "You've got to worry about me?"

  "You!" Augie said, and it came out sounding like a dog's bark. "What are you thinking, getting yourself involved with a guy like Loretto? You know what he does for a living. What kind of a future can a guy like that give you?"

  "Stop it," Gina said. "Loretto's not in the rackets big time. He's not doin' anything worse than what you do yourself now and then." When Augie looked surprised, she added, "What? You think I don't know you got your own dirty hands?"

  "My hands get dirty," Augie said evenly, "only when I need to get them dirty to make sure the rent gets paid and the bills get taken care of."

  "So why's it different for Loretto?"

  "You see him with a family to take care of? You see anybody depending on him?"

  "He's got himself to take care of."

  "You know what I think?" Augie said. "I think you and Mom are just the same." He tossed his cigarette down, stubbed it out with his toe, and started for the skylight.

  Gina watched him disappear into the rectangle of light. Her face stung as if she'd been slapped, and it was only partly from the cold. She went to the edge of the roof and looked down into her neighbors' apartments, though she saw nothing beyond a pattern of light and dark. She saw nothing because she wasn't really looking. "Christ Almighty," she said, and she couldn't tell whether she was cursing or praying.

  Friday - September 11, 1931

  2:35 a.m.

  When Loretto opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by the familiar darkness of his bedroom. Crisp night air pushed into the room through the window over his head, which he'd left open an inch. Across from the window, by the door, the radiator crackled as steam and hot water hissed through its coils. Dominic's bed was empty. Loretto had spent the evening catching up with Mike over a bottle of Canadian Club. Now, as he pulled himself up from sleep, the back of his head throbbed and his stomach rumbled. He'd heard something, a noise loud enough to wake him, though the apartment was quiet as he lay on his back listening to the gurgle of the radiator. He considered that it might have been the heat coming on that woke him but thought it unlikely. Probably it was Mike. Directly across the alley from his bedroom window, in a stranger's apartment, someone left a light on day and night, and the light from that window crossed the alley and dimly illumined Loretto's bedroom. On the floor between his bed and Dominic's, the bottle of CC waited where he'd left it, midway between the beds, bracketed by a pair of empty glasses. Mike and Loretto had gotten into bed while still drinking and talking, and now the blue covers of Dom's bed were turned back, revealing clean white sheets, and the bedroom door was open.

  Loretto figured Mike had gotten up to go to the bathroom, so when he

  heard a cough come from that corner of the apartment, he closed his eyes and tried to settle back to sleep—but the cough was followed by the thunder of the apartment door being battered. First came a loud, dull thump and then a sharp crack as the frame splintered and the door flew open. Loretto couldn't see this, but the sequence of sounds revealed what was happening as clearly as eyesight. He slid to the floor and was reaching for the gun under his bed when the light came on and he found himself looking up at two of Cabo's men, the same two who'd been with Cabo outside the club the evening of the shootings. They stood side by side in the bedroom doorway, pointing a pair of matching cannons at him. The guns were big Colt .45s, something out of a Tom Mix Western, bright and shiny. Loretto showed them his empty hands. He was wearing boxer shorts and a white undershirt. "Gentlemen," he said. He sat up, pulled his knees to his chest, and wrapped his arms around his knees.

  One of the torpedoes said in a rumbling, deep voice, "Richie Cabo said to tell you he's sorry he can't be here in person." Both men, shoulder to shoulder, extended their guns, taking aim––and in the same instant Mike Baronti appeared out of the darkness behind them holding what turned out to be the thick porcelain cover to the john's water tank. He wielded it like a baseball bat, catching both men on the back of the head. They went down like dropped stones—one flat on his face, unconscious, the other to his knees, dazed. The two Colt .45s skittered across the hardwood as Loretto slammed the still conscious torpedo to the floor and twisted his arm behind his back.

  Mike said, "What the hell is this about?" He picked up the guns and tossed them onto Loretto's bed.

  "Jesus," Loretto said. He figured he'd been maybe a couple of seconds from being a corpse. He nodded to Mike and said thanks.

  "Forget it." Mike knelt beside the mug Loretto was holding pinned to the floor. A steady stream of blood spilled from the back of the guy's head. "What's your name?"

  "Fuck you." He was the one with the deep voice, and the curse came out sounding like a groan.

  "His name's Fuckyou," Mike said. "What do you think of that?"

  Loretto twisted the guy's arm. "Don Maranzano'll make mincemeat sandwiches out of Cabo when he finds out about this."

  "I wouldn't bet on that," the guy said.

  "On what?"

  "On Maranzano making a mincemeat sandwich out of Richie."

  "Why not?" Loretto twisted his arm harder, but if he was feeling the pain, it wasn't showing on his face.

  "Ah, shit!" Mike dropped down onto Loretto's bed. "It's Maranzano," he said. He found the CC and a glass and poured himself a drink.

  "What's Maranzano?" Loretto let the torpedo's arm loose but held him down by the back of his neck. His hand was smeared with blood, which was pooling now beside the guy's chin.

&nbs
p; Mike said, "Vince killed Maranzano."

  "What are you talking about?"

  Mike held his drink out, gesturing to Loretto. "Maranzano was the only thing keeping you alive after that stunt with Dutch. Now Cabo's goons come after you, Maranzano's got to be dead. No way Cabo would dare otherwise. Vince came here with twenty-five grand in his pocket to kill somebody. I'm telling you, it was Maranzano. Vince killed Maranzano. V'fancul'!" He tilted his head back and downed his drink.

  "I don't believe it." Loretto picked up the slab of porcelain and held it over the torpedo's head. "What do you know? Either tell me or I'm gonna bust your fuckin' head in."