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“What happened?”
“A big fat white cop whipped my ass with his gun belt,” he said. “Second time was much worse. Didn’t get out of that place for nearly a year. Those guards sho’ did love to watch us niggers kill each other.”
We drove out of the downtown, following a snowplow, until Hawk passed, and led us away and over the old metal bridge. He wore a long navy coat and a snug-fitting cashmere cap to match. His sunglasses had the Chanel insignia at the hinges. Big snowflakes hit the windshield before the wipers knocked them away.
“How much do I owe you?”
“Chump change,” Hawk said. “Unless you’re guilty.”
“Got to cost something.”
“I invest wisely.”
“Might take some time,” I said.
“You know where it’s all coming from?”
“I do.”
“But the bitch of it is in the proving.”
“Yep.”
Hawk turned south onto I-93 and we drove back toward Boston. Not long into the drive, Hawk stopped off at Dempsey’s at Medford. I ordered Irish eggs Benedict, home fries, and a pot of coffee as fast as anyone could.
Hawk had Texas French toast and fresh squeezed orange juice. “Susan said you had three sluggers stop by your office.”
I shrugged and cut off a bit of hash. The food was so good I could feel it in my toes. I wiggled them inside my boots as I chewed.
“You know who paid their bill?”
I shook my head. It was rude to talk with your mouth full.
“Any idea?”
I swallowed. “One of them recognized me,” I said. “Said he used to work for Broz.”
“And the other two?”
I described the older guy, Baldy, and the redheaded kid. Hawk cut up his French toast like a surgeon. An attractive waitress in a form-fitting uniform stopped by to refill our cups. Hawk thanked her and smiled as the wolf must’ve at Little Red Riding Hood.
“What sharp teeth you have,” I said.
Hawk smiled bigger. He ate a little more and then wiped his mouth with his napkin. “The older gentleman is Arty Leblanc,” he said.
“Arty Leblanc?”
“Yeah,” Hawk said. “Sound nicer than he is.”
“How bad?”
“Stupid and bad,” Hawk said. “He once gave a man an enema with a garden hose ’cause he late on his vig.”
“Inventive,” I said. The Irish eggs Benedict was excellent. I speared a bit of bread with a ru
“Giddyup.”
“You had a run-in with Leblanc?”
“Worked two jobs with him,” Hawk said. “Never will again.”
“Can you find out who holds his leash?”
Hawk took another bite and thoughtfully chewed. Outside the plate-glass windows, the snow scattered and twirled in the bluing of the late morning. I hadn’t been in jail long but felt an ease in my back and shoulders with the freedom.
“I know a guy who can help,” he said. “But you won’t like it.”
I drank some more coffee and started into the last of the Benedict. “Like what?”
“The man in the know.”
“Ming the Merciless?”
“Only with more hair and a better suit.”
“Vi
“Yep,” Hawk said. “Vi
28
Since he’d split with Gino Fish, Vi
Vi
He didn’t look pleased to see me. We’d had a falling-out the year before over a hidden interest in a casino slated for Revere. He nodded to me. I nodded back. Civil.
Vi
“I thought George Raft was dead,” I said.
“Heard you were dead, too,” Vi
“Cape Verdean,” I said.
“Whatever,” Vi
“Vi
They shook hands. Vi
“What time is the show?” I said.
“Up here?” Vi
“Yeah.”
“Nineteen sixty-five.”
“So noted.”
Vi
“I guess you ain’t here to talk about the old days.”
Hawk and I sat. Hawk on my right. Vi
“Arty Leblanc,” Hawk said.
“Oh, shit.”
“Is that a nickname or an alias?” I said.
“What the fuck are you guys doing with Arty Leblanc? He’s a freakin’ head case. Did you hear about the garden-hose thing?”
“His reputation has preceded him,” I said.
“Stuck it right up this guy’s keister and turned up the water pressure,” Vi
“So he’s not your employee,” I said.
“Employee?” he said. “What kind of business am I ru
“Not in that suit,” Hawk said.
“You like it?” Vi
Hawk shrugged. “Needs a better tie,” he said. “To make it pop.”
Vi
“Feeling nostalgic?” I said.
Vi
I nodded. Vi
“Doesn’t mean we’re good,” Vi
“Arty,” I said. “Leblanc.”
Vi
“He make a run at you?” Vi
“He made a request,” I said.
“Arty Leblanc doesn’t make no requests,” he said. “He insists.”
“I showed him and his two pals my .357 and insisted they leave.”
Vi
“You know the DeMarco family?” Vi
I nodded. Hawk did not respond. He stood completely still, relaxed, as he rolled the shot glass between the fingers of his right hand.
“They’re taking on new territory,” he said. “They’ve overrun Gino, squeezing out Fast Eddie Lee. They’re in tight with Providence.”
“The old gang is getting back together.”
“Everything was busted up before Joe Broz disappeared,” Vi