The Last Don - Mario Puzo [187]
“But I understand Jim got a chest full of medals,” Cross said. “You got some too.”
Sharkey gave him a dismissive shrug. “You can’t help being a hero cop in this town if you have just a little bit of balls. A lot of those guys didn’t know they could do business if they talked nice. And some of them were out-and-out killers. So we had to defend ourselves and we got some medals. Believe me, we never looked for a fight.”
Cross was doubting everything Sharkey was saying. Jim Losey was a natural-born strong-arm guy despite his fancy clothes.
“Were you two partners in everything?” Cross asked. “Did you know everything that was going on?”
Sharkey laughed. “Jim Losey? He was the boss always. Sometimes I didn’t even know exactly what we were doing. I didn’t even know how much we were getting paid. Jim handled all that and he gave me what he said was my fair share.” He paused a moment. “He had his own rules.”
“So how did you make money?” Cross asked.
“We were on the pad for some of the big gambling syndicates,” Sharkey said. “Sometimes a payoff for the drug guys. There was a time when Jim Losey wouldn’t take drug money but then every cop in the world started taking it, so we did.”
“Did you and Losey ever use a black kid named Marlowe to finger big shot drug dealers?” Cross asked.
“Sure,” Sharkey said. “Marlowe. A nice kid scared of his own shadow. We used him all the time.”
Cross said, “So when you heard Losey shot him running away from a mug-murder, you were surprised?” Cross asked.
“Hell, no,” Sharkey said. “Druggies graduate. But they are so fucked up, they always botch it. And Jim, in that situation, never gives the warning we’re taught to give. He just shoots.”
“But wasn’t it a strange coincidence,” Cross said, “their paths crossing like that?”
For the first time Sharkey’s face seemed to lose its toughness, grow sad. “It’s fishy,” he said. “The whole thing is fishy. But now I guess I have to give you something. Jim Losey was brave, women loved him and men held him in high regard. I was his partner and I felt the same way. But the truth is he was always a fishy guy.”
“So it could have been some sort of setup,” Cross said.
“No, no,” Sharkey said. “You have to understand. The job makes you take graft. But it doesn’t make you a hit man. Jim Losey would never do that. I’ll never believe that.”
“So why did you take your retirement after that?” Cross asked.
“It was just that Jim was getting me nervous,” Sharkey said.
“I met Losey out at Malibu not long ago,” Cross said. “He was alone. Does he often operate without you?”
Now Sharkey gave his grin again. “Sometimes,” he said. “That particular time he went to take a shot at the actress. You’d be surprised how often he made a score with big stars in that business. Sometimes he had lunches with people and he didn’t want me around.”
“One other thing,” Cross said. “Was Jim Losey a racist? Did he hate blacks?”
Sharkey gave him a look of amused astonishment. “Of course he did. You’re one of those bullshit liberals, right? You think that’s terrible? Just go out and put a year in on the job. You’ll vote to put them all in the zoo.”
“I have another question,” Cross said. “You ever see him with a short guy wearing a funny hat?”
“An Italian guy,” Sharkey said. “We had lunch and then Jim told me to get lost. Spooky guy.”
Cross reached into his briefcase and took out another two packets of money. “Here’s twenty grand,” he said. “And remember, you keep your mouth shut and you get another fifty grand. OK?”
“I know who you are,” Sharkey said.
“Sure you do,” Cross said. “I instructed Pollard to tell you who I am.”
“I know who you really are,” Sharkey said with his infectious grin. “That’s why I don’t take your whole briefcase right now. And why I’ll keep quiet for two months. Between you and Losey, I don’t know who’ll kill me faster.”
Cross De