Naked Greed

Ryan and Vi

Together in the car for so many hours, Vi

—

Al turned up for his lunch at an Italian restaurant on 17 North, a couple of miles from Sean Fi

Sean was late, and Al was worried, until he showed up. They were given a favored table, since Sean was a regular and the restaurant bought wine and liquor from his wholesale operation. He ordered a good bottle of red, then insisted on ordering for everybody. “I know what’s good here,” he said.

“L’chaim,” Merv said, raising his glass, and so did the others. Sean ordered several plates of food, and when they came it was like a buffet.

“So, Al,” Sean said, when everybody was eating, “how’d you spend your cut?”

Al took a minute to think about that, then he put down his fork, took a sip of the wine, and set down his glass. “Exactly what d’ya mean by that, Sean?”

“Your cut from the poker game robbery,” Sean said pleasantly, winking at the others.

“Oh, I bought a couple Cadillacs, a yacht, and a Herbalife franchise,” Al replied, smiling. “What’s your point?”

“You set it up, didn’t you?” Sean asked, and he wasn’t smiling anymore.

“Fellas,” Al said, addressing the group, “anybody here know who the big loser was in the robbery? Let me refresh your memories: I had a big pot going there, and I was holding three aces. Maybe some of you saw my hand when the guy with the shotgun told us to put our hands on the table?”

A couple of them nodded.

“Now, Sean, let me ask you a question: Who was it who introduced the pro dealer into the game—the one with the pistol under his arm?”

“Yeah, Sean,” Merv said. “Who was it did that?”

Sean had not expected to be on the defensive. “I told you, it was better if we had a dealer, instead of doing it ourselves. That way, nobody wonders about the cards he gets.”

“Yeah, Sean,” Al said, “it was you who introduced the ringer.”

“Ringer?” Sean licked his lips.

“The mechanic. I been in enough poker games to know who’s dealing off the top and who isn’t. I reckon the two of you were setting me up for the kill by letting me win a few hands. And your guy was prepared to back his play with a gun, if the going got tough for him and somebody squawked about the cards he was getting. Of course, I had no squawk, since I was getting aces.”

“Now, wait a minute, guys,” Sean said, “you all know me.”

“Yeah, Sean,” Merv said, “we all know you.” Merv just let that lie there. Everybody had gotten very quiet. “Tell us about the ringer—who was he?”

“Just a good cardplayer I know, used to work the Vegas casinos.”

“Is that where he learned to deal off the bottom?” Al asked.

—

It was at that moment in time when Ryan and Vi

“Put your hands on the counter and keep them there,” Ryan said, producing a shotgun on a shoulder strap from under his raincoat.

Vi

Ryan grabbed all three handles in one hand and kept the shotgun leveled with the other.

Vi

“Don’t do anything crazy,” Ryan said. He turned to the two victims. “He gets crazy when people don’t do what he tells them. You don’t want that.”

“We’re not going to give you any problem,” the older of the two men said. “It’s not our money.”

Vi

“Go,” he said.

—

Everybody was waiting for Sean Fi

“That’s mine,” Fi

“Sure, Sean, you get it,” Merv said.

Fi

“We’re listening, Sean,” Merv said. “Tell us about your guy from Las Vegas.”

“I really can’t go into that right now,” Fi

“Maybe your guy from Vegas knows some people who know how to do that sort of thing,” Al said.

“We’ll have to talk about this later,” Fi

“Let’s don’t talk about it ever again,” Merv said. “That okay with you guys?”

Everybody nodded, including Al.

Sean ran for the door.

“Fu

“You think his store was really robbed?” somebody asked.

“Let’s hope so,” Merv said, and got a laugh. He slapped Al on the shoulder. “You handled that real well, Al.”

“Lunch is on Sean,” Al said. “Eat up.”

When they had finished, Al threw a hundred on the table for the waiter. “Just put the check on Mr. Fi

Al walked into Vi

“It went about a hundred and eighty grand in cash,” Ryan said, “and a lot of checks. You want to try to wholesale those to somebody?”

“Nah, too many people get to know things,” Al replied. “Burn them.”

“I say we give Vi

“Okay,” Al said without hesitation. “Full partners. You cut it, I got to make a call.” He went into the dining room, out of earshot, and called Charlie at the number on the postcard.

“Hey, Al,” Charlie said, “it’s gotta be you—nobody else has the number.”

“I’m on a throwaway, too, Charlie, just so’s you know. How’s life treating you?”

“Sweet,” Charlie said. “I’ve got more work than I can handle. Why don’t you come down here for a few days and do some of the lifting. If you’re in touch with Gene Ryan, I can use him, too.”