Read The Last Collection Online

Authors: Seymour Blicker

The Last Collection (24 page)

“Look, this thing is worth a lot more than what I owe,” Kerner whined.

“So let's hear about it already,” the Hawk said.

“I don't see why you have to hear about it.”

“He doesn't see, Moishie. Did you hear? He doesn see why we have ta hear about it.”

“I heard but I'm not sure I heard right.”

“I swear to you, I'll pay you double. There's no point in me telling you about it.”

“Lock the door, Solly,” Moishie Mandelberg said quietly.

“What are you locking the door for?” Kerner asked, forcing a note of panic into his voice.

No one replied.

The Hawk went over to the door and opened it. He looked into the reception area.

“Eileen, if you hear any noise from inside, it's nutting. Jus ignore it,” the Hawk said. Then he closed and locked the door.

“Why did you lock the door? What's going on here?” Kerner whined.

The Hawk walked over towards Kerner.

“What's going on?” Kerner repeated.

“Let's hear about the deal you have cooking,” Big Moishie said.

“It's my own thing. It has nothing to do with what I owe you.”

“At this point, my friend, everything you do has to do with what you owe us. . . . So let's hear about it already, before I lose my patience.”

“Can't you just leave me alone for another week?”

Big Moishie turned to the Hawk. “Solly, what do you think?” he asked.

“Dis is what I tink!” the Hawk shouted, and he slapped his hands together hard.

“Ahhh!” Kerner screamed.

Again the Hawk smashed one palm against the other and again Kerner yelled.

“Leave me alone! . . . Please. Get off me.”

“Dats what I tink,” the Hawk said viciously.

Kerner continued to whine. “Jesus. What was that for? . . . You loosened my tooth. Christ! What did you hit me for. Look, you made me bleed.”

“An I can make you bleed a lot more.”

“It's enough for now, Solly,” Big Moishie said.

“My teeth are loose,” Kerner said in a frightened voice.

“Soon dey might be on de floor wid yer head tagedder!” the Hawk snapped.

“It's enough. It's enough,” Big Moishie said. “Am I right, Kerner?”

“My teeth are loose,” Kerner replied.

“Just be thankful that you still have them. . . . Now let's hear what you have cooking.”

“Okay, okay, I'll tell you but it's worth a lot more than what I owe.”

“Look, Kerner, don't give me bullshit. Just tell us about it!” Big Moishie shouted, slamming his fist down on the desk top.

“Okay! All right, I will. I'll tell you but I think I should get something out of it.”

“Did you hear, Solly? He wants something out of it. He's telling us what he wants.”

“I heard but I'm not sure I heard right,” the Hawk replied with a hard chuckle.

“Don't tell us what you want, friend!” Big Moishie bellowed, smashing against his desk and pushing it aside. “We'll tell you!” He rushed up to Kerner. “You owe us. You got something that we want to know about. So talk and talk fast before they have to take you out of here on a stretcher!”

“Okay, I will. I'll talk. I said I will. But I just think if you use this, then I deserve to get something out of it.”

“Deserve? Dis is what you deserve, you piece of dreck!” Solly yelled and slammed his fist into his palm.

Kerner screamed again while Big Moishie began knocking his desk around the room. “Leave me alone!”

“You piece of garbage!” the Hawk shouted.

“Okay. Hold it, Solly,” Moishie Mandelberg said.

“I'll break your fucking head!” the Hawk snarled.

“You don't have to hit me,” Kerner whined.

“I'll break your fucking arms, you lousy mooch!” the Hawk continued.

“Enough. Enough, Solly,” Big Moishie said.

“Don fuck wid me, you mooch!” the Hawk sneered.

“I didn't do anything,” Kerner howled. “You didn't have to hit me. Christ, this tooth is almost falling out now.”

“Are you ready to talk to us now?” Big Moishie asked quietly.

“He hurt my jaw,” Kerner replied.

“You asked for it,” Big Moishie said.

“In a minute I'll break it,” the Hawk added.

“Enough, Solly. Okay, let's hear about it, Kerner. Do yourself a favour and talk fast.”

“If you use this, could I get a piece of the action?” Kerner asked.

“You know what you'll get. You'll get like a small plot in de cemetery. Dats what you'll get,” the Hawk said with a sharp laugh.

“Okay, okay, take it easy. I'll tell you.”

“So tell,” Big Moishie said.

“An if you open yer mout one more time about a piece of de action, so help me I'll break boat yer fucking arms,” the Hawk added.

“Just talk,” Big Moishie said quietly.

“An talk straight!” the Hawk said.

“Okay. All right. . . . I just happen to have some information about the new autoroute extension.”

“Which one?” Big Moishie asked.

“The Laurentian.”

“Oh yeah? So let's hear already.”

“There's one main guy who's in charge of determining the final route. His name is Guy Gervais. He's the head of the Quebec Roads Planning Department.”

“So?” Solly asked.

“So for the last three months he's been planning the route for the new extension. It's supposed to go from St. Jovite to Mont Laurier.”

“So?”

“So I happen to know him.”

“So?”

“So I know that he can be bought without any trouble.”

“He takes a shmear?” Big Moishie said interestedly.

“Without any questions,” Kerner replied.

“How d'ya know dis, Kerner?”

“Well, I ran into him by accident a few years ago when they were building phase two of the extension. We were both spending a week skiing up north at Gray Rocks Inn. I met him on the hill. Later we had a few drinks in the bar. We got friendly. One thing led to another. Before I knew it, he started suggesting that he could sell me some information on the extension. A week later I met him in the city. I paid him $4,000.00. He gave me what he called one zone. The new route passed right through the middle of it. I bought the land involved for $100.00 an acre. Three months later the government paid me $325.00 an acre. I made a profit of $22,000.00. I paid him ten percent.

“Now there's been talk of a new eighteen-mile extension. I know for a fact that it's true. In a few months the government will start buying up the land. This guy is still in charge.”

“What's his name?” Big Moishie asked.

“Guy Gervais.”

“An dis guy is like de big cheese?” Solly asked.

“Yes, he's the head man.”

“How do you know he can still be gotten to?” Moishie asked.

“He called me a few weeks ago to ask if I wanted a piece of the new action. Since then I've been trying to get the money together. That's why I couldn't pay what I owe Hankleman.”

“How did he come to you?” Big Moishie asked.

“I told you. I met him at Gray Rocks and we got friendly and then he made me his proposal.”

“Yes, I know that. What I mean is why he should have chosen to give this information to you.”

“That's very simple. He's from a very old fancy-type family. Okay? But they haven't got a cent to their name. And he likes money. But because of his name and who he is, everyone figures he doesn't need the dough and can't be bought. So no one ever approaches him. Right? And actually if anyone from his society, you know, the people he socializes with, did approach him, he wouldn't deal with them anyways. That's because he wants to keep his clean fancy image. You know what I mean? Among the high-class Québecois society. So what he does then is make his deals with a few guys like me, who have no real contact with his milieu. That way he figures he'll keep his clean image with the people that he mixes with socially.”

“Yeah, okay,” Big Moishie said. “So how does someone like me get to this guy? Do we have to go through you?”

“No, not really. He'll deal with anyone who identifies himself to him in the right way.”

“What do you mean, the right way?”

Kerner hesitated for a moment.

“So c'mon, we're waiting!” the Hawk snapped.

“There's a certain word . . . like a code word . . . that he gave me, and I guess to whoever else he deals with. If someone calls him and uses that word, then he knows what they want and so then he sets up a meeting with them.”

“So what's de code word?” the Hawk asked quietly.

Kerner remained silent.

“What's the word?” Big Moishie asked.

“If you use this information, could you cut me in?” Kerner asked.

“Cut you in? I'll cut yer troat!” the Hawk yelled and began slamming his palms together while Big Moishie began kicking his desk.

Kerner screamed. “I'll give you the word. I'll give you the word. You're breaking my arm! Okay! Leave me! I'll tell you the word!”

“All right, Solly. Leave him.”

“Fucking mooch,” the Hawk muttered viciously.

“Now what's the word; or should I say, what's the good word?” Big Moishie said with a chuckle.

The Hawk laughed. “Yeah, give us de good word already.”

“You almost broke my arm,” Kerner moaned.

“Too bad!” the Hawk replied. “In anudder minute I'll break boat of dem in tree places.”

“So what's the word, Kerner?” Big Moishie asked.

“It's not a word; it's actually an expression.”

“Okay, so give it.”

“Québec sait faire.”

“Quebec knows how?” Big Moishie asked.

“Yes, but in French,” Kerner replied.

“And then he sets up a meeting with us?”

“Yes.”

“You're sure we don't need you to front for us?”

“Yes. As long as you have the code word and the cash, he'll be ready to deal with you direct.”

“How come you didn't tell dis ta Hankleman?”

“Him! If he had given me half a chance I would have offered to pay him back double what I owed him; but he never gave me a chance to even open my mouth.”

“Well, I'll tell you, for our sake we're very glad he never gave you a chance to make that offer,” Big Moishie laughed.

“It's much better dis way, Kerner,” the Hawk said with a little cackle.

“Yes, much better,” Big Moishie said. “We're not anxious for Mr. Morrie Hankleman to make any extra money. It's much better if we make it.”

“Do you think I could get something out of this, if you use my information?” Kerner asked again, trying to inject a slight degree of hopefulness into his voice.

“What do you think, Solly?”

“I tink I don wanna discuss dat now. If we get in touch wid dis guy and everyting works out, den we'll see. Not now. Now I don make no promises about nutting . . . except I'll promise you if dis isn't legit, you'll wish you were never born. Right now, jus be satisfied dat you're still in one piece. You got it?”

“Yes,” Kerner said dejectedly.

“Okay. Now give me all the information so I can take it down on paper,” Big Moishie said. “The guy's name is Guy Gervais?”

“Yes.”

“And he's the head of . . .?”

“Of the Quebec Roads Planning Department,” Kerner answered.

“Okay. Now where's his office?”

“In the Confederation Building on Bleury Street. Forty ten Bleury. The entire Roads Planning Department is in there on the second floor.”

“And we reach him at the office?”

“Yes, but only by phone.”

“What's the number there?”

“Eight, four, nine, three, six, two, four.”

“And where does he like to meet?”

“He won't meet you in his office. He lives up in Ste-Adèle. That's where he has all his plans and everything. That's where I dealt with him the last time around.”

“What's the address of his place there?”

“It's a hundred and eighty St. Hilaire Street in Ste-Adèle.”

“So if we call him at de office like tomorrow, he'll be ready ta talk business right away?” the Hawk asked.

“Yes,” Kerner replied.

“Is there anything else we should know about this deal?” Big Moishie asked.

“No, you know all there is.”

“Okay. Very good. This sounds very interesting.”

“Maybe you could at least let me off for part of what I owe?”

“Don push, Kerner. Don push,” the Hawk said. “So far we got nutting from you excep talk.”

“Well, you will. This is legitimate.”

“It better be or like I said before, you're gonna be very sorry.”

“Don't worry.”

“I'm not worried,” the Hawk replied. “It's you what gotta be worried if dis don werk out right.”

“It'll work out. . . . I just think it would be fair to let me off for something.”

“Jus be tankful you're still in one piece, my friend,” the Hawk sneered. “Now take a walk!”

Kerner turned and headed for the door.

“Don't talk to anyone,” Big Moishie shouted. “You understand?”

“Yes.”

“We'll be in touch with you soon, so be where you can be reached easily. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“That means in town. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, here, the door's unlocked, now goodbye,” Big Moishie said.

“Yeah,” Kerner said disgustedly and walked out, slamming the door behind him.

Big Moishie began to chuckle. Solly joined him. In a moment they were both laughing hard. They continued on this way for a short while. Finally Big Moishie said, “I think we have something very good here, Solly.”

“It sounds very good to me.”

Other books

Mrs. Fry's Diary by Mrs Stephen Fry
The Night Falconer by Andy Straka
The Waterworks by E. L. Doctorow
EXPECTING HIS CHILD by Leanne Banks
The Reluctant Wag by Costello, Mary
The Damaged One by Mimi Harper
Inside Enemy by Alan Judd
Of Blood and Honor by Chris Metzen