Read Online The Peddler by Richard S Prather - Free Book Online
Authors: Richard S Prather
Ads: Link
to Leo, “Look, pal, Alterie’s not gonna be up and around for a while. What happens?”
“I dunno.”
“You know his district, Leo. You could take it over. Why not me take over for you until Alterie’s back. I know the ropes. Then later you come back in and Alterie runs his own district again.” He grinned. “If he lasts.”
Leo looked at Tony strangely. “Tony,” he said slowly. “You meant it to happen like this, didn’t you? You asked me in the house if I knew Alterie’s district. You didn’t work him over because he pulled the sticker; you had it figured then, before you even went out.”
Tony didn’t answer for several seconds. Then he laughed and said, “You stupid wop. What the hell give you a dumb idea like that?”
“Yeah, sure, Tony. Forget it.”
chapter five
Almost “two months after the fight, Tony was having lunch with Leo in the Domino Club. The conversation had been mostly about the houses, a few troubles, talk about Leo’s women.
Then Leo said suddenly, “Well, Tony, looks like maybe you get a try.”
“How you mean?”
“Alterie’s spot. That’s what you wanted, ain’t it?”
“You mean it? This straight?”
Leo chewed on his lip. “I dunno for sure. But Shark says you’re to see him tomorrow. Nine in the A.M.” He shook his head. “Don’t see nothing else it can be. Alterie ain’t been the same since—that trouble. He’s no good to Shark no more. He’s on the needle good now. He’s letting everything go straight to hell, too. He’s out. Maybe you get in.”
Tony took a deep breath and grinned tightly. “Damn,” he said. “How about that. Damn, that’s fine, man. I hope you’re right, pal.”
Tony paused in front of the tall building on Market Street, craned his neck to look up to its top. This Angelo must be some guy. He’d heard it noised around that he owned this building in which he had his office. Angelo. Louis Angelo. The Top.
The interview with Sharkey had been short and hadn’t told Tony much. Sharkey had simply said that they’d been keeping an eye on him. He was to see Angelo at this address. It was almost ten in the morning, the hour when Tony was to see Angelo. He went inside.
At the tenth floor he got out of the elevator and walked down to the door lettered “National Investment Counsellors,” opened it and walked inside. There were chairs along the left wall and a girl sat behind a brown desk at his right. She was typing something, but looked up and smiled pleasantly when he came in.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Tony Romero. I got an appointment with Mr. Angelo.”
She looked at him appraisingly for another second, then pressed a switch on a little box at the right edge of her desk, leaned forward and spoke softly into it. Then she said to Tony, “You may go in now, Mr. Romero. Through that door.” She nodded toward a door in the wall.
It was a plain, heavy wooden door, with no lettering on it. Tony ran his tongue over his lips, then opened the door and walked in, shut the door behind him.
So this guy was Angelo? There was only one other person in the room. He was a small guy sitting behind a brown desk like the one out front, and as Tony came in he leaned back in his swivel chair and looked at him. Sitting down, he looked like he couldn’t be much more than five and a half feet tall, and he was a skinny egg, Tony thought. He was over forty years old, and his dark hair was graying.
Tony walked across the carpet and stopped in front of the desk. There was something funny-looking about Angelo, he thought. The guy was thin, actually skinny, with the skin tight over his face, but he still looked flabby. That was the only way Tony could describe it to himself, as if maybe the bones inside him were flabby, like he didn’t have any muscles to hold him firmly and solidly together. That was nuts, though, the guy looked like any other little skinny guy; it was just a screwy impression. Angelo’s eyes were a strange pale brown,
“I dunno.”
“You know his district, Leo. You could take it over. Why not me take over for you until Alterie’s back. I know the ropes. Then later you come back in and Alterie runs his own district again.” He grinned. “If he lasts.”
Leo looked at Tony strangely. “Tony,” he said slowly. “You meant it to happen like this, didn’t you? You asked me in the house if I knew Alterie’s district. You didn’t work him over because he pulled the sticker; you had it figured then, before you even went out.”
Tony didn’t answer for several seconds. Then he laughed and said, “You stupid wop. What the hell give you a dumb idea like that?”
“Yeah, sure, Tony. Forget it.”
chapter five
Almost “two months after the fight, Tony was having lunch with Leo in the Domino Club. The conversation had been mostly about the houses, a few troubles, talk about Leo’s women.
Then Leo said suddenly, “Well, Tony, looks like maybe you get a try.”
“How you mean?”
“Alterie’s spot. That’s what you wanted, ain’t it?”
“You mean it? This straight?”
Leo chewed on his lip. “I dunno for sure. But Shark says you’re to see him tomorrow. Nine in the A.M.” He shook his head. “Don’t see nothing else it can be. Alterie ain’t been the same since—that trouble. He’s no good to Shark no more. He’s on the needle good now. He’s letting everything go straight to hell, too. He’s out. Maybe you get in.”
Tony took a deep breath and grinned tightly. “Damn,” he said. “How about that. Damn, that’s fine, man. I hope you’re right, pal.”
Tony paused in front of the tall building on Market Street, craned his neck to look up to its top. This Angelo must be some guy. He’d heard it noised around that he owned this building in which he had his office. Angelo. Louis Angelo. The Top.
The interview with Sharkey had been short and hadn’t told Tony much. Sharkey had simply said that they’d been keeping an eye on him. He was to see Angelo at this address. It was almost ten in the morning, the hour when Tony was to see Angelo. He went inside.
At the tenth floor he got out of the elevator and walked down to the door lettered “National Investment Counsellors,” opened it and walked inside. There were chairs along the left wall and a girl sat behind a brown desk at his right. She was typing something, but looked up and smiled pleasantly when he came in.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Tony Romero. I got an appointment with Mr. Angelo.”
She looked at him appraisingly for another second, then pressed a switch on a little box at the right edge of her desk, leaned forward and spoke softly into it. Then she said to Tony, “You may go in now, Mr. Romero. Through that door.” She nodded toward a door in the wall.
It was a plain, heavy wooden door, with no lettering on it. Tony ran his tongue over his lips, then opened the door and walked in, shut the door behind him.
So this guy was Angelo? There was only one other person in the room. He was a small guy sitting behind a brown desk like the one out front, and as Tony came in he leaned back in his swivel chair and looked at him. Sitting down, he looked like he couldn’t be much more than five and a half feet tall, and he was a skinny egg, Tony thought. He was over forty years old, and his dark hair was graying.
Tony walked across the carpet and stopped in front of the desk. There was something funny-looking about Angelo, he thought. The guy was thin, actually skinny, with the skin tight over his face, but he still looked flabby. That was the only way Tony could describe it to himself, as if maybe the bones inside him were flabby, like he didn’t have any muscles to hold him firmly and solidly together. That was nuts, though, the guy looked like any other little skinny guy; it was just a screwy impression. Angelo’s eyes were a strange pale brown,
Similar Books
