Raphael parked his car and went up to his apartment. He bathed and shaved and put on clean clothes. He set the scanner in the window and went out onto the rooftop.
“District One,” the scanner said.
“One.”
“We have a report of a subject sleeping in a Dumpster in the alley behind the Saint Cloud Hotel.”
“I’ll drop by and wake him up.”
Raphael looked down at his street. It seemed somehow alien now. The familiar faces were all gone, and he realized that there was no longer any real reason to stay. For the first time since he had come here, he began to think about moving.
“This is District One,” the scanner said. “This subject in the Dumpster is DOA. Gunshot wound to the head.”
Raphael felt suddenly very cold. He had heard about it. Everyone hears stories about gangsters and the like. The Mafia is as much a preoccupation of Americans as are cowboys and Indians. Someone had once told him that young men of Sicilian background who aspire to membership in the family test their nerve in this precise manner. Nobody really investigates the death of a wino in an alley. It is a safe way for a young hoodlum to get his first killing behind him so that his nerve won’t falter when the real shooting starts. Almost without realizing what he was doing, he went over to the window and turned off the scanner. He did not want to hear any more, and he did not want to think about it. He returned to his chair and sat in silence, looking down at the shabby street.
Up the block Big Heintz sat alone on the porch, his booted feet up on the rail and his purple helmet pulled down low over his eyes.
Marvin drove up in his car, closely followed by Little Hitler on his motorcycle. They stopped in front of the house and pulled several bags and blanket-wrapped objects from the backseat of Marvin’s car. They went up onto the porch. “We got’em,” Marvin said, “lotsa good stuff-chains, baseball bats, stuff like that.”
“Baseball bats?” Heintz scoffed.
“We took ’em over an’ had Leon drill ’em out for us,” Little Hitler explained. “Then he poured lead in ’em.”
“Now you’re talkin’.” Heintz grinned. “Where’s that fuckin’ Jimmy?”
“He’s over talkin’ to Occult,” Marvin replied, “seein’ if they wanna go with us when we go to have it out with the Dragons.”
“Goddamn that little shithead!” Heintz exploded. “He’s gonna screw it up. Occult ain’t gonna take a scrawny little bastard like Jimmy serious. They’re gonna just think he’s runnin’ his fuckin’ mouth. That’s the kinda thing I oughta handle myself-me-or maybe Jake. Fuckin’ Jimmy ain’t got no sense.”
“Have you seen Jake?” Little Hitler asked.
“He’ll be here,” Heintz assured them. “Ain’t nothin’ gonna keep of Jake away from what’s goin’ down.”
Marvin had pulled one of the baseball bats out of a blanket and was tapping it solidly on the porch railing.
“Don’t be wavin’ that fuckin’ thing around,” Heintz ordered. “Like Jake says, we gotta cool it. One of the neighbors sees it, and they’ll call the pigs on us again. We don’t want no hassles with the fuckin’ pigs today.”
“Sorry.” Marvin quickly wrapped the bat again.
“Better lug all that shit inside,” Heintz told him. “Get it outta sight. Like I say, we don’t want no hassles with the fuckin’ pigs today.”
Marvin and Little Hitler took their bundles into the house, and Big Heintz sat in menacing splendor on the porch, glowering at the street.
About four o’clock Jimmy arrived, breathless as always. “They’re in!” he announced excitedly as he got out of his car.
“Who’s in?” Heintz demanded.
“Occult. I talked to the Hog, an’ he says to count ’em in.”
“Jesus Christ! You ain’t got no fuckin’ sense at all, Jimmy.”
“What’s the matter?”
“It ain’t done like that, you dumb little fucker. You don’t just go runnin’ off to somebody like the Hog and spillin’ your guts like that. This ain’t no fuckin’ tea party we’re talkin’ about-it’s a fuckin’ war.”
“I don’t see what the difference is,” Jimmy objected.
“If you’re too dumb to understand, I sure as shit ain’t gonna try to explain it to you. It’s courtesy, you dumb shit. You ain’t got no fuckin’ manners, Jimmy. Me.” Heintz stabbed himself in the chest with his thumb. “Me-I’m the one that shoulda talked with the Hog. That way he’s got my word it ain’t no setup-that we ain’t gonna be waitin’ out there to jump them. But you ain’t smart enough to see that, are you?”
“Sorry,” Jimmy said sullenly.
“Sorry don’t cut it, shithead. Now I’m gonna have to apologize to the fuckin’ Hog. This is serious, man-serious. You don’t invite fuckin’ Occult to a war, I do. That’s somethin’ that’s gotta be settled between the leaders-me an’ the Hog. From now on you keep your fuckin’ nose outta stuff like this. You just do what I tell you to, an’ don’t get fuckin’ creative on me. You got it?”
Jimmy sulked into the house, once again leaving Heintz sitting in sour imperial solitude on the front porch.
At five Flood showed up, and Raphael felt suddenly sick.
“Hey, Jake,” Heintz called in a relieved tone. He got up and swaggered down off the porch. “Where you been all day?”
“Here and there,” Flood said with a shrug. “I drifted down to People’s Park to get the lay of the land.”
“Shit, man!” Heintz stared at him. “That’s dangerous. Were the Dragons there?”
“Some of them.”
“They mighta jumped you.”
“Why would they do that? Look at me, Heintzie. Do I look like a biker?”
“Well . . .” Heintz still looked dubious.
“I look like a tourist. They didn’t even pay any attention to me.
‘You got balls, Jake-real balls.”
Flood shrugged. “I wanted to see the ground, that’s all. Now I know the way in and the way out. There won’t be any surprises-not for me, anyway. The Dragons might be in for a shock or two, though.”
Heintz gurgled with laughter. “You slay me, Jake. You absolutely fuckin’ slay me.”
“Are we all set for tonight?” Flood asked.
“All set. Fuckin’ Jimmy even went and talked to Occult. The Hog musts been drunk or stoned outta his mind to take the little fucker serious, but Occult’s in.”
“Good enough.”
Raphael was stunned. The plan had obviously changed. He had thought that he would have more time. Tonight was supposed to be the council-of-war-cum-beer-bust out on the Newport highway, but those festivities appeared to have been scratched. Talking to Flood had been something fairly serious before, but now it was a matter of urgency.
Raphael swore and went back inside to the telephone to call Denise.
“Where have you been?” she demanded. “I’ve been waiting for your call.”
“I’ve got a problem,” he told her.
“What?”
“It’s Flood. He’s been running with a motorcycle gang, and they’re getting geared up for a war with a rival gang. I’m going to have to see if I can’t get him off to one side and try to talk him into staying out of it.”
“Why?” She said it flatly.
“Come on, Denise. The man’s a friend of mine.”
“Some friend.” There was a long pause. “It’s not Flood at all,” she accused him. “It’s that girl again, isn’t it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“That girl-the one with the big belly. It’s her you want to be with, isn’t it?”
He was stunned. He’d never expected this. “Denise.” He said it very calmly.
“What?”
“Stop and think for a minute. Think about me and then about what you just said.”
There was another long pause and then a slightly embarrassed laugh. “I’ve never been jealous of anyone before,” she admitted. “I’m not very good at it, huh?”
“Would you accept incompetent?”
“All right. I’m sorry. What’s her name?”
“She’s the girl on the roof.”
“That’s all? You don’t even know her name?”
“Why would I want to know her name? She’s not here anymore anyway. She went home to Metalline Falls. I persuaded her to make a run for it before the social workers got her. My caseworker broke down and cried when I told her that the girl on the roof made a getaway.”
“The puppy?”
“That’s the one. She probably went home and chewed up a pair of slippers after I told her about it. The problem really is Flood, Denise. Look, why don’t you come over here? Why don’t I come and get you? I could fix dinner for us here.”
“No thanks, Rafe. That might not be a good idea. I’ve never met this wonderful friend of yours, and I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Look. Let me see if I can get him squared away, and then I’ll call you back.”
There was a long, slightly sulky silence. “I’m sorry, Rafe ” she said finally, her voice contrite. “I was being selfish. I’m just disappointed, that’s all. I’ve never been stood up before. You do what you have to and call me back, okay?”