Текст книги "Cogan's Trade "

Автор книги: George Higgins

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 12 страниц)

“Yeah,” Mitch said.

“No ass,” Cogan said, “no more booze, no nothing. You get yourself a shower and go to bed and I’ll wake you up and tell you where you gotta be, right?”

“I don’t take orders from shits like you,” Mitch said.

THE DRIVER TURNED OFF the ignition of the silver Toronado and waited for Cogan to cross the trolley tracks behind Cronin’s in Cambridge. When Cogan got in, the driver said: “You know, I hate to be a burden to anybody, but life’d be a whole lot easier for me if you could bring yourself to use a telephone now and then to talk about things. They’ve got pay phones now, anybody can use them. I bet I can even give you two or three numbers in Providence alone that’re pay phones, and if you wanted to call me up and talk to me about something, all you’d have to do is call me up and say which one. This running back and forth every time somebody gets a runny nose’s raising hell with me. My wife’s sick and one of the kids’s sick and my practice’s going to hell, and that isn’t even enough for you, one of the last good Saturdays we’re likely to see in a long time I think, and I had to give up nine holes to come up here and talk to you. That’s all I seem to do, lately, cancel appointments and drive up here to talk to you.”

“You oughta talk to the man, Albert,” Cogan said. “Sounds to me like you’re the kind of man, deserves a raise. Tell him to get in touch with me. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“You’re all heart,” the driver said. “Okay, I’m here. Let’s have the latest bad news. What’s messed up now?”

“Well,” Cogan said, “we seem to have a little problem.”

“We’re not supposed to have any more little problems,” the driver said, “no little problems at all. I’ve talked to him and we’ve done everything you asked. No problems at all, big or little. Tell me one thing you asked for, that we didn’t go along with.”

“Nothing,” Cogan said. “Only, there’s a couple things I didn’t know.”

“Tell me about it,” the driver said.

“Mitch,” Cogan said. “He can’t do it. I had things pretty well lined up for tonight. I know where Amato’s gonna be, and I’m pretty sure I can find out before dark where the kid that I’m sure of’s going to be. But at least we had Amato lined up. We could do a double, if things went right, or we’d at least get the Squirrel and he’s the big one anyway. But Mitch can’t do it.”

“You asked for him,” the driver said. “You and Dillon both asked for him. You said you couldn’t do it, and Dillon of course can’t. We got you what you asked for.”

“What I asked for,” Cogan said, “was, I didn’t know this, see? I wanted Mitch the way he was a year, a couple years ago. He’s fuckin’ worthless now.”

“What’s the matter with him?” the driver said.

“The first thing I heard about,” Cogan said, “he’s got this beef down in Maryland. He thinks he’s gonna do a bit for it and he’s scared of the bit because he thinks his wife’s gonna dump him if he does. Which, from what he tells me, she is, and even if she wasn’t, he hasn’t got any idea he’s gonna really enjoy doing the bit anyway.”

“I don’t see what that’s got to do with this,” the driver said.

“It don’t seem to, at first,” Cogan said, “except that he’s not supposed to go any place but Maryland without getting permission, and naturally he didn’t, come up here, so he’s afraid to go out and he stays inna room all the time. Because they’ll heave him in just for being here.

“Anyway,” Cogan said, “he’s staying inside and he’s fucking everything that jumps.”

“He said,” the driver said, “when I told him you wanted Mitch, he said it was all right, but it might be the best idea if you could find some way to keep the fellow locked in the bathroom all the time he’s here. Well, what is it? Won’t he come out?”

“He’ll come out if we want him to,” Cogan said. “I don’t think we do. When he landed here he wanted me to get him a broad, and I thought, what the fuck business is it of mine? I thought he wanted a broad. I called up a guy, guy got him a broad. Beautiful. But what he did was get that broad to give him the names of some other broads, and these aren’t hookers in from Lawrence for the night, either. These’re girls that see a lot of guys and talk to a lot of guys, and they all know he’s in town by now, and that isn’t gonna help us. This kid I sent around, I asked for one that’s just getting started and doesn’t know anybody from a pisshole in the snow. But he also found Polly, he tells me, and there isn’t one guy in town doesn’t know Polly, and this silly bastard hadda fight with her, for Christ sake. That girl talks to cops.”

“Has he lost his mind?” the driver said.

“I think,” Cogan said, “I think there’s a limited amount of shit a guy can take, and Mitch went over his limit. When I met him he was drinking up a storm, and I said something to him and he told me, it scares the shit out of him when he’s got to fly and he can’t sleep the night before and he’s got to get something in him so he can sleep. So, okay, and I could see there’s a lot of things bothering him. Let the guy do what he wants.

“Well,” Cogan said, “that was three days ago, and what he didn’t fuck in them three days, he drank. When I left him, he was drunk. Two-thirty in the afternoon, and he was finishing up a fight with another heavy cruiser he got from some place. Really drunk, talking and everything, he can’t remember what year things happened, for Christ sake, and I chew him out for it and he’s gonna go right out in his skivvies and do the job now. He won’t shut up.”

“Have you talked to Dillon?” the driver said. “Is Dillon well enough to talk to?”

“Told me he went out for a walk yesterday,” Cogan said. “Said he’s feeling much stronger, he had a good dinner last night and watched TV. Yeah. Dillon thinks what I think. This guy’ll blow the whole thing if we don’t do something. He’ll get another broad and another jug up there, and if one of the ones he had already didn’t get the word onna street, the next one will. We need that guy out of town yesterday, is what we need.”

“Well,” the driver said, “you invited him up here. Send him back.”

“He wouldn’t go,” Cogan said. “He’s hungry for the dough, said he really needs dough. Lost his job or something and everything. He wouldn’t go if I told him. I don’t think he’d do anything I told him, unless he was so drunk he couldn’t think of anything else to do. Which he probably is.”

“I can’t get in touch with him today,” the driver said.

“It’s nothing like that,” Cogan said. “What I got in mind, I’m gonna get him grabbed.”

“Turn him in,” the driver said. “Won’t he talk?”

“If he thought it was me that did it, he might,” Cogan said. “What I was thinking of, this guy I know, he’s got this one broad that is tops at setting guys up. She gets in real fights with them, and they give her their fuckin’ teeth to get her out of the room before the cops come. I was thinking of sending her up there, see, I told him, no more ass, he’s going to work, but he’s so drunk he won’t remember whether he had somebody send her up or not, and he’d take her if he didn’t. Now, this hotel, they don’t exactly keep tabs on people, but it’s a good place and they’re not gonna want no whore fights going on in there, and he’ll get busted for that and pretty soon they’ll revoke bail on him and back he’ll go.”

“Kind of rough on him,” the driver said.

“Not actually,” Cogan said. “Actually, I think it’s the best thing for him. He’s gonna kill himself if he does this much longer. He won’t get enough potato jack in the can to kill him, and if he’s not in the can he’ll kill us.”

“I suppose he really should talk to Mitch’s people,” the driver said.

“Albert,” Cogan said, “how’re they gonna know?”

“Ah,” Albert said. “I can tell him, I suppose.”

“If you want,” Cogan said. “Let him make up his own mind.”

“Okay,” the driver said, “do it. Now, that leaves us with Amato.”

“I come up with something, I think,” Cogan said. “I think I can set him up myself.”

“I thought you couldn’t,” the driver said. “I thought he knew you.”

“He does,” Cogan said. “He also knows the kid, one of the kids he used on the job. And that kid, I bet, is gonna know where Amato’s gonna be, the next few nights or so.”

“Will he do it?” the driver said.

“I was waiting for you,” Cogan said, “I started thinking. Yeah, I think I know a way.”

“Will he be all right?” the driver said.

“Oh,” Cogan said, “you can’t tell.”

“Well, it’s serious, isn’t it?” the driver said. “It’s a serious question.”

Cogan stared at the driver. “For a while,” he said. “Not long, but a while. Talk to the man.”

FRANKIE SAT at the first bar downstairs in the Carnaby Street, late in the afternoon. He leaned back on the bentwood stool and watched the waitresses chatting, idle until customers came.

Cogan hung the pilled suede coat on a peg and sat down next to Frankie. He ordered a beer.

“Heineken?” the bartender said.

“Yeah,” Cogan said.

“Bottle or draft?” the bartender said.

“I don’t give a shit,” Cogan said. “Draft.”

“They always do that,” Frankie said.

“It’s a pain in the ass,” Cogan said. “I wouldn’t’ve come in here, I thought I was gonna have to go through something like that.”

The bartender put a frosted mug in front of Cogan.

“I would,” Frankie said. “This guy, I dunno how he does it, he’s got to have the best-built girls in Boston working for him. I come in here every day.”

“I know,” Cogan said.

Frankie looked at him. “I never seen you before in here,” he said. “I don’t know you.”

“Didn’t say you did,” Cogan said. “Very few guys know me. I’m just a guy, is all. I never been in here before in my life.”

“How’d you happen to come in today?” Frankie said.

“Looking for you,” Cogan said. “I was looking for you and a guy told me, he said you told him you come in here a lot, ’round this time of day, see if you can get up nerve enough, talk to a girl. So I came in. Simple, huh?”

“Who’s the guy?” Frankie said.

“Just a guy,” Cogan said, “guy, a friend of yours, actually. Knows a little about you, told me where to look you up. Well, he didn’t tell me himself. He told a guy, and the guy was up here and he told me. Because I asked the guy, this friend of yours.”

“Who’s this friend?” Frankie said.

“China,” Cogan said.

“Never heard of nobody by that name,” Frankie said. He finished his beer and started to straighten up.

Cogan put his right hand on Frankie’s right arm. “China’ll be surprised to hear that,” he said, “very surprised. Here’s a guy, concerned about you, your friends’re concerned about you, you know that, Frankie? They’re worried. Guys like China. China was really, he, well, he insisted I hadda go and talk to you, is what he did. I wasn’t sure I oughta bother you, you know? Got yourself a place and everything? ‘Sounds like he’s doing all right to me,’ is what I said. ‘No reason I should go around and bother him.’ You have got a place, haven’t you, Frankie?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said.

“Somewhere south of New Hampshire, I bet,” Cogan said.

“Right onna peg,” Frankie said.

“Norwood, to be exact,” Cogan said. “Why’d you do that, alla them trucks?”

“I dunno,” Frankie said.

“Now whyn’t you relax a little, Frankie, okay?”

Cogan said. “You know how it is when a guy, when China wants a guy to do something, you got to do it, is all, China’s all down there, locked up and everything, he’s gotta depend on his friends, do the right things for guys he’s worried about. I’d be embarrassed in front of China, I hadda tell him, he ever found out, a guy he wanted me to talk to, I didn’t talk to him. You know how China is.”

Frankie leaned back again.

“Have another beer,” Cogan said. “Look at the girls. Jesus, I dunno how you can stand the noise out there. Still, I suppose, guys got all kinds of reasons for doing things. Gotta car, too, I understand.”

“Yeah,” Frankie said.

“Lemme give you some advice, all right?” Cogan said.

Frankie did not answer.

“I had one of them things myself,” Cogan said, “they first come out. You got the hood scoops, right?”

Frankie did not answer.

“Ah, come on,” Cogan said, “you got the green Geetoh with the scoops. Don’t fuck around with me, right?”

Frankie nodded.

“You’re gonna have trouble with it,” Cogan said, “couple months or so. January, when it gets cold. Fuckin’ thing won’t run. It’ll start but it won’t run. You can do anything you want to it, it won’t run, and when it’s really cold, down around seven, eight below, it won’t start.

“Now lemme tell you what you got to do,” Cogan said. “You got to pack them scoops. Mine just had the one, the split one in the middle. But, well, you got the two, I bet you’re still gonna have the same trouble, the car just won’t warm up. You’re gonna have to pack them scoops. It’s the scoops. Your engine can’t get warm in that thing when it’s cold unless you run it about ninety miles an hour the minute you get her going, and you do that, you’re gonna bend a fuckin’ valve, is all. What I used to do, I used to put masking tape right over them scoops. Looks like hell, but it works. Got that? Masking tape.”

Frankie nodded.

“You see what I mean,” Cogan said.

“Uh,” Frankie said, “uh, no. No, I don’t.”

“Your friends,” Cogan said. “Your friends’re worried about you. See? I even heard, you’re carrying.”

“Fuck, no,” Frankie said.

“Well,” Cogan said, “now, that’s good. Because, you wanna be careful about that. You, what, you been out a month?”

“Six weeks,” Frankie said.

“Right,” Cogan said. “Onna robbery thing, am I right?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said.

“Well, there you are,” Cogan said, “and that’s why it’s such a good thing, you’re not carrying. You know how those guys are. They’re gonna be measuring your dick every time somebody pulls a job looks anything like what you did. You think they don’t know you’re out?”

“Nope,” Frankie said.

“And of course,” Cogan said, “they’re not gonna get nothing on you, because you’re not doing nothing, am I right?”

“Just havin’ a beer and watchin’ the girls,” Frankie said.

“Sure,” Cogan said. “Nothing wrong with that. But, they pick you up, even though you didn’t pull a job, you’re carrying, they’re gonna run you again.”

“I know that,” Frankie said.

“Well,” Cogan said, “that’s good. That shows, your friends that’re worried about you, shows them you must’ve grown up some since you went in.”

Frankie looked at Cogan. “Grown up some?” he said. “A dog’d get born and live and die in the time I was in.”

“Well,” Cogan said, “yeah, you’re right. But, maybe even since you got out. Maybe you grown up some since then.”

“Well,” Frankie said, “I finally got laid.”

“That’s good,” Cogan said. “How was it?”

“Not so good,” Frankie said. “Matter of fact, it was kind of shitty. I naturally got some broad that’s been fuckin’ since they found out how to do it, and I naturally shot my mouth off all over the place and I got through and she told me I’m a lousy lay. I’m gonna keep at it, though. I figure, can’t be too tough to get the hang of it, and there must be some reason, there’s so many people running around doing it.”

“That’s the idea,” Cogan said. He made a sucking noise with his tongue and his teeth. “Jesus,” he said, “that’s too bad. If I’d’ve only run into you sooner. I should’ve got on this right away, when I first get the word from China and them. I knew a guy could’ve helped you along that line. Really knew some great broads. But he’s dead.”

“Oh yeah?” Frankie said.

“Yeah,” Cogan said. “It’s too bad. You maybe saw it inna paper. Somebody whacked him out the other night. Markie Trattman. Nice guy. A real nice guy, and what that guy didn’t know about getting broads, nobody knew.”

“Must’ve fucked the wrong one, I guess,” Frankie said.

“Yeah,” Cogan said, “it was either that or something else. He got somebody pissed off, that’s for sure. That’s the way it is with most of them guys, I think, that get whacked. They get somebody pissed and then something happens. You got to be careful, these days. You do something, looks perfectly all right to you, and the right guy gets pissed off for no reason at all and you’re in the shit. Look at China. How long you known China?”

“China?” Frankie said. “Ten years or so, I guess.”

“Well,” Cogan said, “that’s long enough. Now there’s a guy, you should’ve heard what they’re saying about China, year or so ago.”

“I did,” Frankie said.

“Yeah,” Cogan said, “and, knowing China, you got to know, it’s not true. China’d eat shit before he’d talk to anybody. But the trouble is, some asshole gets it in his head that something’s going on or something, and he starts spreading stuff around about China, and of course nobody asks any questions or does anything smart like that. They just talk and talk and talk and pretty soon China’s getting all this static, and he wasn’t even doing anything.

“Now,” Cogan said, “China’s a smart bastard. He’s down there and he knows he’s gotta see somebody and see them quick. So he gets himself a habe or something and they bring him up here and he gets a chance to get the word to a few guys and somebody got in to see him and he told him: ‘Look, I’m gonna get a shiv up my ass if somebody doesn’t start stopping all this talk and shit, you know? And, I’m not gonna stand still for that. If I gotta protect myself, I’m gonna have to go to somebody and start telling them things, and I don’t want to do that, all right?’ So the guy comes out and he puts it around and China’s all right again with everybody. See, that’s what I mean. China’s a smart bastard, knows how to protect his ass. Markie, well, he knew a lot about broads, but I guess he didn’t know nothing about protecting his ass.”

“Kind of hard to cover your ass,” Frankie said, “you don’t even know some guy’s after you for dipping your wick. Kind of hard.”

“Yeah,” Cogan said, “but there’s other things it could’ve been, it could’ve happened. Now Markie, Markie ran a game. And it got knocked over. You know that?”

“I think I heard something about it,” Frankie said.

“Yeah,” Cogan said. He drank his beer. To the bartender he said: “Lemme have another one.” To Frankie he said: “Want another one?”

“I think I’m set,” Frankie said.

“Right,” Cogan said. He accepted the fresh mug and drank from it. “Good,” he said, wiping his mouth. “Nothin’ like a cold beer, I always say. Well, now, Trattman always ran that game, right? He had a game running ever since anybody can remember. And he had a game, went over before. He got robbed before. And you know something?” Cogan said. “It was actually Markie, had it knocked over.”

“Maybe he did it again,” Frankie said.

“There’s a lot of silly shits that’re running around, saying that,” Cogan said. “I actually heard some of that talk myself. And it pissed me off. Because, Markie wasn’t no particular friend of mine, you understand, I bet I didn’t talk to him more’n once, twice, in my whole life. So, he gets himself in some kind of trouble, it’s not up to me, go around and straighten him out. Who am I? Just a guy he knows. Why’s he gonna listen to me? But since then, I thought, I should’ve. I really should’ve. Because there wasn’t nothing to that talk and shit. Markie wouldn’t do that again. He was way too smart for that. But see, that’s what I mean. He hadda know, he hadda know the kind of talk that was going around, and he should’ve been smart enough, he heard some of it, like China, you know? Do something about it. So some silly shit don’t decide he’s gonna make himself all kinds of friends, all he’s gotta do is whack Trattman out. It’s a crazy fuckin’ world.

“See, Frankie,” Cogan said, turning slightly toward him, “I think that’s what China and them think, your friends, that’re worried about you. They think, well, they dunno how much you grown up, since you got out, even. They think you need somebody around, knows about things, advise you.”

“Yeah,” Frankie said.

“Teach you how to cover your ass,” Cogan said. “See, like I was saying, it’s not what you been doing so much’s it is what guys think you been doing, and that’s what you got to look out for, and when it happens, well, you got to be prepared to do something.”

“Yeah,” Frankie said.

“So,” Cogan said in a lower voice, “where’s he gonna be, tomorrow night?”

“Who?” Frankie said.

“Johnny Amato,” Cogan said. “Tomorrow night. Where’s he gonna be?”

“I dunno,” Frankie said.

“Frank,” Cogan said, “you got to keep in mind what I told you. Your friends’re worried about you. You wanna finally get laid right, it’s your friends, they wanna see you get the chance, you know what I mean? And it’s your friends, wanna know where Squirrel’s gonna be.”

“This’s the first time I seen you,” Frankie said.

“New friends’re best,” Cogan said. “Your other one, there, you can’t depend on him, you know? Look at what he got you in before. All that time. You could’ve been out getting a decent piece of ass, ’stead of pounding sand up yours and everything.”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are,” Frankie said.

“Very few guys do,” Cogan said. “Oh, China, maybe, and, oh yeah: Dillon. Dillon knows me. You’re, you strike me as a pretty intelligent guy. Want me to call Dillon for you, and you can talk to him, see who I am? There’s not much to find out, I can tell you that. But you can talk to him. Wanna talk to Dillon?”

“No,” Frankie said.

“Well okay,” Cogan said. “Where’s he gonna be? I know you’re gonna know, if you don’t know now.”

“I haven’t got no idea,” Frankie said. “I seen John three or four times since I got out. I don’t know what he does, nights. Goes home, I guess.”

“Okay,” Cogan said. He finished his beer. “See you around, Frankie, my friend.” He started to get off the stool.

“Wait a minute,” Frankie said.

“There’s things,” Cogan said, “there’s things that won’t wait. You tell me, you don’t know. Okay, I accept that. But I got something to do. I got to find a guy that knows.”

“Where John’s gonna be tomorrow night,” Frankie said.

“And something else now, I guess,” Cogan said. “Like where you’re gonna be, the day after. You gonna be here again? Gonna come in about three-thirty, drink about four beers, hang around until you eat, leave and go up Pagliacci’s like you always do, see what’s still breathing enough to fuck, go home around midnight, one o’clock? That what you’re gonna be doing day after tomorrow? Or are you gonna be doing something else, so it takes me a couple, three days extra? It’s not gonna matter. You could just save me a lot of time, is all.”

Frankie said nothing.

Cogan got off the stool. He rested his forearms on the back of it. “Look,” he said, “you gotta be realistic, right, kid? You gotta be. I know the guy. I also know what’s goin’ through your head. He’s, you think he’s a friend of yours, right? You probably, you probably got something lined up with him right now, am I right?”

Frankie did not answer.

“It don’t matter,” Cogan said. “I know how you feel. But you think, I bet you figured, that Trattman thing, it was gonna work, right?”

Frankie did not answer.

“Them things,” Cogan said, “lemme tell you something, kid: them things, they never work. Guys with bright ideas, you know? Like Squirrel. They all know the end-around, and they’re not gonna get something and work it steady and make it work and make it pay. Not them. He’s always been like this, always been looking for a hustle, and guys like him, all they ever do is fuck things up. For everybody else.”

“Trattman got hit,” Frankie said.

“There’s all kinds of reasons for things,” Cogan said. “Guys get whacked for doing things, guys get whacked for not doing things, it don’t matter. The only thing matters is if you’re the guy that’s gonna get whacked. That’s the only fuckin’ thing.”

Frankie nodded.

“You,” Cogan said, “you’re one of the few guys that know, right?”

“I dunno,” Frankie said.

“Yes you do,” Cogan said. “You know very fuckin’ well. You, you got a choice. You’re gonna be one of the guys that gets whacked out or else you’re not. You know that. It’s just a matter of time, now, my friend. Just a matter of time. Him first and then you. That’s the way you’re going.”

Frankie did not answer.

“Except you’re in a position,” Cogan said, “you’re in a position very few of them guys ever get in. You can do something about it. I known very few guys inna position like that.”

Frankie did not answer.

“Frank,” Cogan said, “I hope you don’t think, I’m shittin’ you.”

“Look,” Frankie said, “who the fuck are you? I never saw you before in my life, all of a sudden you’re telling me all these things. What the fuck do I know? Maybe you’re not even here. I don’t know nothing.”

“Kid,” Cogan said, “I hate to see you go like this. China says you’re all right. And you’re going for fuckin’ nothin’.”

“I’m …” Frankie said, “Jesus, I dunno.”

“Lemme ask you something,” Cogan said, “and you think about this, all right? You think, I was to go down Wollaston and see him, there, right now, I was to leave here and drive down there and see him and say: ‘Squirrel, it’s you or Frankie. Who’s it gonna be?’ You think he’d even think about it? You think he would?”

“I dunno,” Frankie said.

“You asshole,” Cogan said. “An asshole like you, it’s no wonder you did time. You fuck kin asshole. You haven’t got no brains at all.”

“Look,” Frankie said, “look, I …”

“I haven’t got to look,” Cogan said. “Look, I know what’s going on. I know what I got to do. I need a right guy.”

Frankie’s mouth worked. He did not say anything.

“If I get a right guy,” Cogan said, “I told them this, by the way, I said: ‘There’s two ways this thing can go. The hard way is, I do them both. The other way, I only gotta do one guy.’ I took a lot of shit for that. You know how I got them to go along with this? China. China says you’re all right. So, I always like China, I can do something for China, I’m gonna. China don’t want, you hit. Very loud on that point. Says you’re a good guy, kind of guy it’s good to have around. Okay. But you know where China is. All he can do is come up here and talk. He can’t actually do nothing for a guy.”

“No,” Frankie said.

“I can do something for a guy,” Cogan said. “I don’t have to, but I can. Now make the pick, kid, and make it right now. I’m gonna do China a favor, I’m not gonna do China a favor. Don’t matter to me.”

“Lemme think,” Frankie said.

“Nope,” Cogan said, “no thinking. Go or no go, right now. I got to get going.”

Frankie exhaled heavily. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Can you do the other thing?” Cogan said.

Frankie hesitated. “No,” he said.

“Well,” Cogan said, “that’s the selection. So, I guess you know, then.”

What’ve I gotta do?” Frankie said.

“You gotta find out where he’s gonna be,” Cogan said.

“I already know that,” Frankie said. “We’re, he asked me what I was gonna be doing, he’s gonna be some place and he wants to call me or something. I know where he’s gonna be. He’s got a girl. He told me that, before. I told him I was gonna be home, I’d be home.”

“You’re not gonna be,” Cogan said.

“I’m not?” Frankie said.

“No,” Cogan said.

“Where …” Frankie said.

“You’re gonna be with me,” Cogan said, “and we’re gonna be where he’s gonna be.”

“Jesus,” Frankie said, “I can’t do that. He sees me, it’s all over. He’ll know, something’s wrong. I can’t do that. I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you where he’s gonna be. I’ll do that. But, he’s a friend of mine. I can’t do that.”

“Okay,” Cogan said, “okay. That’s, you made the other choice then, I guess.”

Frankie stared at Cogan. Cogan did not move. Frankie said: “Have I really got to do that?”

Cogan nodded.

“All of it?” Frankie said.

Cogan nodded.

“I got to be there and everything?”

Cogan nodded.

“It’s not,” Frankie said, “it’s not like, there was anything I could do, anybody else inna world couldn’t do. It’s not that. You, there must be hundreds of guys, you can get. You don’t need me.”

“Wrong,” Cogan said. He put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “Frank,” he said, “it’s not like I don’t understand what’s on your mind, right? But this thing’s a problem. And part of it, it’s partly your fault. You made a mistake. Now you gotta, you got to do the right thing. You gotta show, you understand, you made a mistake, and you gotta make things right. Otherwise, guys know you made a mistake, right? And that’s when they’re gonna want somebody to do something, like with Trattman. He never did the right thing.”

Frankie nodded.