Bone in the Throat - Anthony Bourdain [54]
Harvey finished his drink and headed for the bathroom.
Twenty-Five
AL PULLED the red Alfa over in front of the Evergreen Sportsmen's Club. The Rolling Stones' "Jigsaw Puzzle" was playing on the tape deck. Al rolled down the windows, turned up the volume, and got out of the car. The old men in front of the club grimaced at the blasting rock and roll and looked at Al with stricken expressions.
Charlie Wagons, standing in the open doorway of the club in his bathrobe, screwed up his face and squinted at Al.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Al. "Do you know me?"
"You're a cop," said Charlie.
"Federal cop, Charlie. Eff-A-Bee-Eye. My name's Al."
"You have to play that jungle music so loud out front of my place? I can't hear the fuckin' game in there," said Charlie, struggling to maintain his temper.
"Gee, I'm sorry, Charlie," said Al. "Damned disrespectful of me." He made no move to turn down the music.
"So, whaddaya want, Mr. FBI? You want somethin? Talk to my lawyer. I'll give you his number."
"I'm sorry," said Al. "Is this a bad time for you? I didn't come over here to bother you. Not at all. I'm just lookin for some help on a thing I'm workin' on. Looking for some assistance in an investigation."
Charlie threw a half-smoked cigar in the street. He turned his head and looked suspiciously at Al. "What do you want?"
"I've got this case I'm working over in Brooklyn. Big RICO case. My boss has got me chasin' all over torn tryin' to put something together. The Calabrese crime family. You heard of them?"
Charlie said nothing. Al continued. "I just wondered if you, being a concerned citizen and a resident of this neighborhood and all . . . if you would care to help us out on this thing. Help keep your neighborhood free from the insidious infiltration of legitimate businesses by criminal elements from the other boroughs."
"My neighborhood—" Charlie started.
"I mean, you've lived here all your life, You're a respected man in the neighborhood. I understand people look up to you around here, they come to you with their problems. You've got family here. I figured you'd be outraged that these people from Brooklyn feel free to come down here and loan money at usurious rates to some of your local businesses. Extorting nice hard-working people like yourself. I would think you'd find that sort of thing disgraceful." Al smiled.
"I'm not talking to you!" said Charlie, taking a step back.
"You mean you're not concerned?" said Al, with a look of feigned shock.
"Go away," said Charlie.
"I didn't mean to get you upset," said Al.
"I'm not upset," stammered Charlie. "I'm not anything! Talk to my fuckin lawyer. I'm not talkin' to you. Not a fuckin' word.
Al held up his hands, palms up. "Hey, hey, Charlie, you don't have to get all defensive. Don't run away."
Charlie stood his ground. "I'm not running anywheres. This is my place here. If somebody's running away, it's you. You should get lost."
"Alright," said Al. "Alright. I can respect that. You don't want to get involved yourself. How about your friends and associates here." Al motioned toward the old men sitting in the chairs outside the club. "You know, maybe they'd like to assist us. Out of concern for the area. They could start up like a neighborhood watch thing. You, they could sort of keep an eye out for us. Look out for some of these Brooklyn types who are coming around here lately and committing these illegal acts. You could set up patrols. Walkie-talkies, flashlights. No guns or anything like that, so it's safe. We'd be happy to help. Maybe we could get you guys uniforms. What's your jacket