Read Online Cold City (Repairman Jack - the Early Years Trilogy) by F. Paul Wilson - Free Book Online
Authors: F. Paul Wilson
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noticed Abe’s wounded look.
“May I?”
“Of course,” he said, but didn’t sound all that sincere.
He popped it into his mouth. Pretty damn good.
“Well?” Jack said after swallowing – moist enough to go down easily without milk. “What do you think?”
“You want I should decide for you? I can’t. You’re a grownup now. By your wits you want to live? Then sometimes you have to take chances.” He raised his hands, palms up, and moved them like a juggler. “Does the gelt outweigh the risk? Is the risk worth the gelt? Is any risk too much? If so, maybe a school janitor you should be.”
Jack realized he’d come to Abe looking for more than chitchat. He’d wanted some fatherly advice. His own father was back in Jersey and would go ballistic at the thought of one of his sons doing anything even questionably illegal. Abe, on the other hand, was treating him like an adult, like a peer, telling him to evaluate the pros and cons of Bertel’s offer and make up his own mind. Jack could get used to that.
“Who is Bertel, anyway?”
“A mensch.”
Mensch…Jack knew what that one meant.
“I get the feeling he’s an ex-cop.”
“Probably ex a number of things. He’s been around awhile. Minds his business. Not a kibbitzer by any means. Hires young men exclusively.”
“Sort of a Fagin, then?”
Abe shook his head. “No, I believe he likes women.”
Jack laughed. “ Fagin – as in Dickens.”
“Oh. Sorry. I thought you said fageleh. Speaking of women, he told me once he’d love to hire females – less chance of being stopped, he thinks – but couldn’t justify putting a young woman on the road alone at night.”
Something about that helped Jack make up his mind.
“I think I’ll give it a shot.” His stomach knotted as the words passed his lips.
Abe concentrated on the cake. “You’re sure?”
“Not in the least. But I’ll give it a trial run. If I’m a basket case after it’s over, I’ll know it’s not for me and I’ll quit. He will let me quit, won’t he?”
Abe nodded. “Of course. He may deduct certain startup expenses from your pay, but I don’t believe a blood oath is involved.”
“That’s a relief. Do me one favor though?”
“If possible.”
“Talk me out of it?”
Abe’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? Talk yourself out.”
“No, I’m serious. Hit me with the downside.”
Abe drummed his fingers on the counter for a second, then said, “Well, as I see it, a unique and wondrous situation you’ve got: The official world has no idea you exist. This can be a useful thing if you wish to maintain it. Transporting black market goods puts your unique and wondrous situation at risk. You get caught and booked and you’re like the rest of us.”
Jack nodded silently. A pretty good case for turning Bertel down.
Abe stuffed another piece of cake in his mouth. “What’s he offering, by the by?”
“A thousand a trip.”
Abe almost choked. “What? Don’t be a shmoiger! Take it!”
MONDAY
1
Three days later Jack sat at a motel room’s front window and stared at the parking lot. He hadn’t slept much. Better to sit and watch the sky lighten than lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. A thick stand of long-needle pines bordered the cracked and rutted asphalt. He imagined that somewhere beyond them, rosy fingers of dawn were inching above the horizon.
Crappy image. He tried to remember the supposed owner of those supposed fingers. Eos? Not that he gave a damn, but he found it easier to think about things like that than what was to come.
The weekend had flown .
Things had begun moving immediately after he’d called to accept the job. Bertel had sent him straight downtown to a tiny camera shop on West Houston with instructions to ask for a guy named Levinson – maybe his real name, maybe not. Levinson turned out to be a skinny guy in his
“May I?”
“Of course,” he said, but didn’t sound all that sincere.
He popped it into his mouth. Pretty damn good.
“Well?” Jack said after swallowing – moist enough to go down easily without milk. “What do you think?”
“You want I should decide for you? I can’t. You’re a grownup now. By your wits you want to live? Then sometimes you have to take chances.” He raised his hands, palms up, and moved them like a juggler. “Does the gelt outweigh the risk? Is the risk worth the gelt? Is any risk too much? If so, maybe a school janitor you should be.”
Jack realized he’d come to Abe looking for more than chitchat. He’d wanted some fatherly advice. His own father was back in Jersey and would go ballistic at the thought of one of his sons doing anything even questionably illegal. Abe, on the other hand, was treating him like an adult, like a peer, telling him to evaluate the pros and cons of Bertel’s offer and make up his own mind. Jack could get used to that.
“Who is Bertel, anyway?”
“A mensch.”
Mensch…Jack knew what that one meant.
“I get the feeling he’s an ex-cop.”
“Probably ex a number of things. He’s been around awhile. Minds his business. Not a kibbitzer by any means. Hires young men exclusively.”
“Sort of a Fagin, then?”
Abe shook his head. “No, I believe he likes women.”
Jack laughed. “ Fagin – as in Dickens.”
“Oh. Sorry. I thought you said fageleh. Speaking of women, he told me once he’d love to hire females – less chance of being stopped, he thinks – but couldn’t justify putting a young woman on the road alone at night.”
Something about that helped Jack make up his mind.
“I think I’ll give it a shot.” His stomach knotted as the words passed his lips.
Abe concentrated on the cake. “You’re sure?”
“Not in the least. But I’ll give it a trial run. If I’m a basket case after it’s over, I’ll know it’s not for me and I’ll quit. He will let me quit, won’t he?”
Abe nodded. “Of course. He may deduct certain startup expenses from your pay, but I don’t believe a blood oath is involved.”
“That’s a relief. Do me one favor though?”
“If possible.”
“Talk me out of it?”
Abe’s eyebrows shot up. “Me? Talk yourself out.”
“No, I’m serious. Hit me with the downside.”
Abe drummed his fingers on the counter for a second, then said, “Well, as I see it, a unique and wondrous situation you’ve got: The official world has no idea you exist. This can be a useful thing if you wish to maintain it. Transporting black market goods puts your unique and wondrous situation at risk. You get caught and booked and you’re like the rest of us.”
Jack nodded silently. A pretty good case for turning Bertel down.
Abe stuffed another piece of cake in his mouth. “What’s he offering, by the by?”
“A thousand a trip.”
Abe almost choked. “What? Don’t be a shmoiger! Take it!”
MONDAY
1
Three days later Jack sat at a motel room’s front window and stared at the parking lot. He hadn’t slept much. Better to sit and watch the sky lighten than lie in bed and stare at the ceiling. A thick stand of long-needle pines bordered the cracked and rutted asphalt. He imagined that somewhere beyond them, rosy fingers of dawn were inching above the horizon.
Crappy image. He tried to remember the supposed owner of those supposed fingers. Eos? Not that he gave a damn, but he found it easier to think about things like that than what was to come.
The weekend had flown .
Things had begun moving immediately after he’d called to accept the job. Bertel had sent him straight downtown to a tiny camera shop on West Houston with instructions to ask for a guy named Levinson – maybe his real name, maybe not. Levinson turned out to be a skinny guy in his
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