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than to shame oneself by not trusting them. Maybe that was why he had no friend to comfort him now.
    As he thought this, he suddenly heard the words of Dr. Lehman, the psychiatrist, sounding in his head.
    â€œYou’re a shlepper, Kerner! You have no faith!”
    Artie Kerner went back into his office and dialed the number of Dr. Lehman.

Chapter Eight
    A n hour after Morrie Hankleman had left the office, Big Moishie was still aggravated. He disliked everything about Hankleman. For some reason, the fact that Solly had agreed to take on the collection job for him infuriated Big Moishie—particularly since he was still undecided on finishing their deal with Marvin Saltpeter. The more he thought about it, the more angry he became. He glanced over at the Hawk who was busy scanning the morning newspaper. The air had to be cleared, Big Moishie thought to himself, and the time to do it was now.
    â€œSolly,” Big Moishie said.
    The Hawk looked up from his desk. “Yeah?”
    â€œWe got to talk.”
    â€œAbout what?”
    â€œAbout you.”
    â€œSo let’s talk,” the Hawk said.
    The big man began to nod his head. “Okay . . .”
    The Hawk waited expectantly. He was quite certain he knew what his partner was about to discuss and he was glad.
    â€œFor twenty-two years there’s been no bullshit between us. Right?”
    â€œRight,” the Hawk said, giving a short emphatic nod.
    â€œAs a matter of fact, even when we were kids there was no bullshit.”
    â€œDats true, Moishe.”
    â€œBut now I don’t feel right. . . .”
    â€œYou mean, because of de Saltpeter deal?” the Hawk asked.
    â€œYes, that’s it. I can’t figure it out. You tell me it’s no good, it can’t work, he’s not hooked.”
    Solly nodded slightly and didn’t interrupt.
    â€œI have too much respect for you and too much faith in you to believe that you really mean that. . . . I know he’s hooked and because I know it, then I know that you know it too. Which is why I can’t figure it out.”
    Solly lit up a cigarette as Big Moishie went on.
    â€œYou heard the last call he made. The man was hysterical. He was begging you to set the deal up. He sounded like he was ready to crack up. We could do anything we want with him. We could take him for every cent he’s got. You know it and I know it. Am I right, Solly?”
    Solly the Hawk gave several almost imperceptible nods and said nothing. He kept his eyes fixed on Big Moishie who continued to talk.
    â€œSo what I’d like to know is, why don’t you want to do this piece of business?”
    The Hawk leaned his head in his hand for a moment. He wanted to answer his partner honestly and in such a way that he wouldn’t hurt him or insult him. He knew exactly what he wanted to say. He had thought about it long enough.
    The Hawk lifted his head and turned towards Big Moishie. “A few munts ago . . . I dunno, maybe four, five, six munts ago . . . maybe even longer, I started tinking about tings. Like fer twenny years I could never talk about my work wid Helen. For twenny years my own wife doesn really know exactly what I’m doing. As far as she knew, I was in de finance business. Mind you, she knew. She knew I wasn’t legit, but she never said nutting; but I could never talk to her . . . or my daughter eidder. If dey asked me, ‘How did it go t’day at de office?’ what could I tell dem? It was fine. T’day I put a mooch in de hospital fer two weeks. He paid up right away. It was a good day! You know whad I mean, Moishie?”
    Moishie Mandelberg nodded slowly.
    â€œA whole part of my life I could never talk ta dem about. An also when de kid was growing up I was always worried dat she would like hear somewhere. You know, like from a school friend or somebody, about whad her fadder did. . . . Mind you, today I’m sure