1963 - One Bright Summer Morning (7 page)

At exactly eleven-thirty, his patience was rewarded. A taxi pulled up outside the hotel and Moe Zegetti got out. After paying the cabby, he hurried into the hotel. Mason lifted the mike of his radiotelephone and reported back to Jay Dennison.

“Stick with them, Abe,” Dennison said. “I'll send Tom over. When Zegetti comes out, Tom will take care of him. You take care of Kramer.”

Two elderly women came down the street and entered the hotel. A little later a woman with a small boy came in a taxi and also entered the hotel. Mason lit a cigarette and relaxed. These people couldn't have anything to do with Kramer.

A few minutes to midday, a girl and a young man came walking down the street. They looked like twins. The girl, her hair dyed blonde, was wearing a cheap cotton dress, scuffed white shoes and sunglasses. The young man was dark. He had on bottle green slacks, an open-neck grubby white shirt and over his shoulder he had slung a lightweight fawn-coloured jacket. He also wore sunglasses. They looked like a couple of students on vacation. Mason gave them a disinterested stare and then dismissed them. Because Moe Zegetti had had the intelligence to insist neither of the Cranes should wear their uniforms, they passed into the hotel without raising the Federal Agent's suspicions.

“The guy in the car across the way,” Chita said under her breath. “Could be a dick.”

“Yeah, I saw him,” Riff said. “Better tell Zegetti. Could mean nothing: could be a private dick on a divorce caper.”

They had been told by Moe to go to the first floor, Room 149, knock twice and wait.

There were a few elderly people sitting in the dusty lounge who peered at the Cranes as they walked to the stairs. A bellhop eyed them, started to get up, but decided it was too much trouble. These two seemed to know where they were going.

They arrived at Room 149, knocked and the door was immediately opened. Moe jerked his thumb and they walked into a comfortably furnished sitting room with a door opposite them leading into a bedroom.

Big Jim Kramer sat in an armchair by the window, a cigar gripped between his teeth. He examined the Cranes as they moved into the room. They came in cautiously, like animals uneasy in new surroundings. Moe was right. These two were tough. His eyes travelled over Chita: the girl was something . . . that bust of hers! If he had been five years younger, he might have had ideas about her!

Ignoring Kramer, Riff said to Moe, “There's a dick parked outside . . . could be a private eye . . . could be a Fed.”

Moe stiffened. His fat face lost a little colour. He looked quickly at Kramer who said quietly. “Forget him. I've got him tagged. The Feds must be interested when Zegetti and I get together . . : they don't miss much.” He eased his bulk in the chair, making it creak. “When I'm good and ready, I'll lose him. I've been losing cops for the past forty years.”

In their turn, the Cranes examined Kramer. They had read about him in the tabloids when they were kids. They knew him to have been one of the top racketeers in the business: a man who had made six million dollars. Seeing him now, heavy, old with a whisky complexion his suntan couldn't conceal, they were disappointed. They had expected to see a man a lot more lethal-looking than this sixty-year old hunk of beef, sitting in an armchair and smoking a cigar.

“Sit down, you two,” Kramer went on. He stared at Riff who still had a couple of raw blisters on his face where, two weeks ago, the ammonia had burned him. “What's the matter with your face?”

“A whore bit me,” Riff said as he sat down.

There was a long pause. Kramer's beefy face turned a dark red and his little eyes snapped.

“Listen to me, you young slob,” he snarled, “when I ask a question, you answer up polite . . . hear me?”

“Oh, sure,” Riff said indifferently, “but my face belongs to me: it's nothing to you what's the matter with it.”

Zegetti eyed Kramer uneasily. In the old days, if some punk talked back to him, Kramer would crush him with a blow in the face, but instead, Kramer shrugged and said, “We're wasting time. Now, listen, you two, I'm fixing a job. I could use you if you want to come in. There's no risk and it's worth five grand. What do you say?”

Chita was aware of the impression she had made on Kramer. She had an instinctive knowledge when she raised lust in men, and she knew she had stirred Kramer's desires.

“No risk?” she asked. “Then what's a cop doing, parked outside?”

“You two little jerks don't know what it is to be famous,” Kramer said. “Moe here was one of the top craftsmen in the game and I ran a mob of over five hundred hoods who really knew their business. When Moe and I get together, it's news. The Feds get scared. I said forget it. I'll lose them when I want to. Right now they can sit outside and stew. It won't get them anywhere. When I pull this job, they'll know nothing about it. Do you want the job? It's worth five grand. Make up your minds. If you want it, say so.”

Riff touched one of the raw blisters on his face and winced angrily.

“What's the job?”

“You buy it sight unseen,” Kramer said. “You don't get the dope until you say you're in, and when you're in, you damn well stay in or you'll have me to reckon with.”

The Cranes looked at each other. For the past two weeks they had been having a very bad time. Word had got around how the little guy had fixed them and they had lost face with their gang. The other gangs openly jeered at them and Riff had been involved in several fights: one of them he had nearly lost. Chita had been pestered on the streets by punks who wouldn't have dared touch her before. Riff had been laid up for a week. The offer of five thousand dollars stunned them. It was more money than they had ever hoped to lay their hands on in their lives. So far they had played it small, but safe. Now, getting themselves hooked up to a fat old square like Kramer could land them into trouble they had so carefully avoided so far. But the money was too big a temptation. Riff nodded his head at Chita who nodded back.

“Well, okay, we're in,” Riff said and taking out a couple of cigarettes, he tossed one to Chita and lit the other for himself. “What's the deal?”

Kramer told them what he had told Moe, but he mentioned no names. He said the girl was the daughter of a wealthy man who would pay ransom without going to the cops.

There was a long pause after Kramer had finished talking.

The Cranes looked at each other, then Riff slowly shook his head. To Kramer, he said, “That caper could land us in the gas chamber. Five grand isn't enough. If we're going to risk our necks, we want five grand each.”

Kramer's face went a blotchy red.

“I told you! There's no risk!”

“It's a snatch. Something could turn sour,” Riff said. “It's hard to keep the Feds out of a caper like this. Ten grand or we don't touch it.”

Moe looked anxiously at Kramer. The old man looked as if he was about to burst a blood vessel.

“Then get out!” Kramer spluttered. “The two of you! Out! There are plenty of punks who'd do it at my price!”

Chita moved uneasily, but her brother scowled at her. He said quietly, “For ten grand, we'll do the job, and we'll do it nice and smooth. You won't have any complaints. I promise you that.”

“Get out!” Kramer snarled, leaning forward, his face congested. “Hear me! Out!”

“It's not your money,” Riff said without moving. “What are you getting excited about? You just raise the ransom a little, and in return you get a hot service.”

“It's five grand or nothing!” Kramer said, getting to his feet. His right hand hung near his coat where the bulge of a hidden gun was plain to see.

Riff stared at him for a long moment, his face expressionless, then he stood up.

“Come on, Chita,” he said. “We have things to do.”

“Wait!” Moe said sharply. Turning to Kramer, he said, “I want a word with you, Jim,” and he walked into the bedroom.

After hesitating while he glared at Riff, Kramer stormed into the bedroom, slamming the door.

“What is it?” he snarled.

“Take it easy, Jim,” Moe said quietly. “Don't say I didn't warn you. These two are tricky and you're handling them wrong. They are worth ten grand. They'll do the job. We can't afford not to pay them now. They now know we are planning a snatch. They are like snakes. I told you.

Give them what they want and they'll do a job, but turn them out now and they'll cross the street and tell that Fed what's cooking. Neither of them have a record . . . but we have. Those two could fix us now. Don't you see that?”

For some seconds, Kramer stood mouthing at Moe, his face purple, his great fists clenching and unclenching. Finally, he said in a voice that shook with rage, “You imagine I'm going to be stood up by a slob like him? I'll get some hood to kill him. I'll . . .”

“Who will you get to do it?” Moe asked. “Neither of us have gunmen to call up now, Jim. I; you did find someone, you'd have to pay him, and anyway, it would be too late. Once the Feds know we are planning a snatch, we're through.”

Kramer walked slowly and. heavily to the window. He turned his back on Moe. He felt a nagging pain under his heart. He hadn't been so worked up in years and this pain scared him. He stood motionless, breathing heavily until he felt the blood gradually leave his face and his heartbeats return to normal.

Moe watched him uneasily, seeing the sag to the heavy shoulders and the furtive hand pressing against the bulky left side.

Kramer turned.

“You really think these slobs can do a job?” he demanded.

“I'm sure of it,” Moe said.

Kramer hesitated, drew in a long, deep breath, then suddenly shrugged.

“Well, all right, but if I have any more trouble from them, I'll kill them myself!”

Knowing this was a face-saving boast, Moe nodded.

“That's right, Jim, but right now, let's talk to them again.”

They went back into the sitting room. Riff was lighting another cigarette, his face expressionless. Chita was lolling back in her chair, her eyes closed. Her cheap dress had ridden up a little: she showed the tops of her stockings. As the two men came in, she straightened and pulled down her dress, but not before Kramer had seen the length of her slim, sensual-looking legs.

“We've talked about this,” Moe said before Kramer could speak. “You'll get five grand each, but for that money, you'd better, do a job.”

Riff nodded. His dark eyes lit up, but his face remained expressionless.

“We'll do a job,” he said, looking at Kramer. He felt a surge of triumph run through him. He knew that Chita had thought he had gone crazy when he had turned down the first offer. For an uneasy minute, he thought too he had made a mistake, but he had bluffed this old square, and he had pulled it off! “You tell us what to do and we'll do it!”

Kramer sat down. His face was blotchy and he still felt this tugging pain on his left side. He found his eyes kept going to Chita, remembering the glimpse he had had of her white thighs. The more he looked at her, the more her sensual body disturbed him.

“I warn you two,” he said, “from now on you do what I tell you. I'm not having any trouble from either of you . . . understand?”

Having won his victory, Riff could afford a servile nod of his head.

“You'll have nothing to grumble about,” he said. “You can be sure of that.”

Kramer stared at him. The expressionless, scarred face, the flat snake's eyes bothered him a little. It was quite a time since, he had had to deal with anyone quite as dangerous as this young slob.

“Okay,” he said, paused to light a cigar, then when he had it drawing to his satisfaction, he went on, “Here's the plan. The snatch will be easy. I've been checking on the girl. Every Friday morning, she drives alone to San Bernadino for a hairdressing appointment. She then lunches at the Country Club before going back home. She's done this, routine run for the past two years. She lives with her father on a big estate out near Arrowhead Lake. There is a three-mile drive from the house down the private road to the San Bernadino highway. The entrance to the private road is guarded by a five-barred gate. There's a telephone by the gate. A caller has to telephone the house and one of the staff releases the lock on the gate and cuts off the electrified wires on the gate with a switch.

“The girl leaves the house around nine o'clock. She reaches the gate at nine-ten.” Kramer paused and looked at Chita. “This is your job, so listen carefully. You'll be outside the gate at nine o'clock. You'll have a car. I'll get you one. At nine-ten, you'll open the hood of the car as if you have had a breakdown. Don't be too early or you'll have some helpful guy coming to stick his nose into the car. Moe will be with you, but he'll be out of sight. I've checked the place. There's a big clump of shrubs where he can hide and not be far from where you'll be parked. The girl has to get out of her car to open the gate. You'll go up to her, tell her you have a breakdown and will she give you a lift to the nearest service station. She won't refuse you. You're a girl on your own: she won't have anything to be suspicious about. You get in her car and she'll drive you towards San Bernadino. Moe will come out of hiding, get in your car and come after you.” Kramer paused and stared at Chita who was sitting forward, listening intently, her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. “This is where you begin to earn your money. On the way, you have to convince this girl that she has to do exactly what you tell her to do. You'll be provided with the means.” He took from his jacket pocket a small flask. “This contains sulphuric acid. Touch this cap at the top of the flask and the acid is projected with considerable force. You tell her if she doesn't do exactly what you tell her, she'll get the acid in her face. Make a demonstration; spray some of the acid on the leatherwork of the car. Be careful how you do it. When she sees the results, she'll behave. I guarantee that!”

Chita nodded as she reached for the flask.

“I'll fix it,” she said. “That's easy. I've handled this stuff before.”

Kramer and Moe exchanged glances. Moe lifted his eyebrows as if to say, “I told you so, didn't I?”

“You will direct her to Mackling Square car park. This is a big public park and at that hour you won't have any trouble in finding room for the car. Moe will be right behind you. You and the girl will then leave her car and transfer to Moe's car, getting in at the back. You'll have to watch her. She's not likely to make a break for it, but don't relax for a moment. . . understand?”