Read Online World Gone By: A Novel by Dennis Lehane - Free Book Online
Authors: Dennis Lehane
Ads: Link
fucking rat in our crew. Or the niggers got one in theirs. I’m betting the niggers.”
“Why?” Joe said.
Freddy couldn’t follow. “ ’Cause they’re niggers, Joe.”
“You don’t think they know they’d be the first people we’d blame if we lost nearly a quarter million dollars’ worth of product? Montooth Dix is a smart guy. A fucking legend. And he’s gonna rat us out? For what?”
“Who knows?” Freddy said. “He took a pinch we don’t know about. They caught one of his wives without a green card. Who knows what it takes to turn a nigger into a rat?”
Joe looked at Dion, who was holding out his hands, as if to say Freddy had a point.
“The only two people outside of us who knew where the cook house was going to be,” Dion said, “was Montooth Dix and Wally Grimes.”
“And Wally Grimes,” Rico said, “is no longer with us.”
“Which is convenient,” Joe said, looking over at Freddy, “ifsomeone, say, wanted to push Montooth Dix out of the policy and narcotics businesses in Brown Town.”
“You saying someone framed Montooth Dix for being a rat?” Freddy said, a curious smile on his face.
“No,” Joe said. “I’m just noting that if Montooth is the rat, that works out real well for anyone who covets the coin he’s making down there.”
“I’m here to make money. Why the good Lord”—Freddy blessed himself quickly—“put us on this earth.” He shrugged. “I don’t apologize for it. Montooth Dix is earning so much, he’s a threat to all of us.”
“Or just you?” Joe asked. “I hear your crew’s been tuning up some of the coloreds down there, Freddy.”
“We get pushed, Joe, we’re gonna push back.”
“And you don’t think they feel the same way?”
“But, Joe,” Freddy said reasonably, “they’re niggers.”
Besides being vain, arrogant, and secretly convinced that he’d never met a man as smart as himself, Joe Coughlin had also killed, stolen, maimed, and assaulted his way through his thirty-seven years on the planet. So he rarely felt like he held the moral high ground over anyone. But he could live a hundred lives and never understand the bigots in his midst. Seemed every race had been the niggers of someplace at some point in their history. And as soon as the black niggers got respectable, the next scapegoat race would be duly designated, maybe by the very niggers who’d just escaped into respectability.
He wondered, and not for the first time, how any of them had allowed a guy like Freddy to head up his own crew. But it was the same problem everyone was having during this war—you just couldn’t find good help. Plus, he was Rico’s brother, and sometimes you just had to take the bad with the good.
Joe said to Dion, “So what about it?”
Dion stoked his cigar, one eye clenched shut. “We figure out a way to find this rat. Until then, no one does anything. No one causes any trouble.” He opened the eye and fixed it on Freddy and Rico. “Clear?”
“Crystal,” Rico said.
TOMAS FOUND HIS FATHER in the outer school yard and they walked back around to the front of the church. They were heading for Twiggs when the mayor and his wife crossed their path. The mayor gave Joe a tip of the hat. His young wife gave Joe and Tomas a bright, if distant, smile.
“Mr. Mayor,” the mayor said to Joe with a hearty laugh and a firm handshake.
Back when Joe had run things in the 1920s and early 1930s, the Cubans and Spaniards had dubbed him “Mayor of Ybor.” Even now, the nickname showed up as a parenthetical in some newspaper articles when he was mentioned.
Joe could tell by the pinched look on Vanessa Belgrave’s face that she wasn’t a fan of the nickname.
Joe shook the man’s hand. “You’re the leader of this city, sir. Of that there’s no doubt. You know my son, Tomas?”
Jonathan Belgrave hitched his pants and bent to shake Tomas’s hand. “How are you, Tomas?”
“Fine, sir. Thank you.”
“I understand you’re fluent in
“Why?” Joe said.
Freddy couldn’t follow. “ ’Cause they’re niggers, Joe.”
“You don’t think they know they’d be the first people we’d blame if we lost nearly a quarter million dollars’ worth of product? Montooth Dix is a smart guy. A fucking legend. And he’s gonna rat us out? For what?”
“Who knows?” Freddy said. “He took a pinch we don’t know about. They caught one of his wives without a green card. Who knows what it takes to turn a nigger into a rat?”
Joe looked at Dion, who was holding out his hands, as if to say Freddy had a point.
“The only two people outside of us who knew where the cook house was going to be,” Dion said, “was Montooth Dix and Wally Grimes.”
“And Wally Grimes,” Rico said, “is no longer with us.”
“Which is convenient,” Joe said, looking over at Freddy, “ifsomeone, say, wanted to push Montooth Dix out of the policy and narcotics businesses in Brown Town.”
“You saying someone framed Montooth Dix for being a rat?” Freddy said, a curious smile on his face.
“No,” Joe said. “I’m just noting that if Montooth is the rat, that works out real well for anyone who covets the coin he’s making down there.”
“I’m here to make money. Why the good Lord”—Freddy blessed himself quickly—“put us on this earth.” He shrugged. “I don’t apologize for it. Montooth Dix is earning so much, he’s a threat to all of us.”
“Or just you?” Joe asked. “I hear your crew’s been tuning up some of the coloreds down there, Freddy.”
“We get pushed, Joe, we’re gonna push back.”
“And you don’t think they feel the same way?”
“But, Joe,” Freddy said reasonably, “they’re niggers.”
Besides being vain, arrogant, and secretly convinced that he’d never met a man as smart as himself, Joe Coughlin had also killed, stolen, maimed, and assaulted his way through his thirty-seven years on the planet. So he rarely felt like he held the moral high ground over anyone. But he could live a hundred lives and never understand the bigots in his midst. Seemed every race had been the niggers of someplace at some point in their history. And as soon as the black niggers got respectable, the next scapegoat race would be duly designated, maybe by the very niggers who’d just escaped into respectability.
He wondered, and not for the first time, how any of them had allowed a guy like Freddy to head up his own crew. But it was the same problem everyone was having during this war—you just couldn’t find good help. Plus, he was Rico’s brother, and sometimes you just had to take the bad with the good.
Joe said to Dion, “So what about it?”
Dion stoked his cigar, one eye clenched shut. “We figure out a way to find this rat. Until then, no one does anything. No one causes any trouble.” He opened the eye and fixed it on Freddy and Rico. “Clear?”
“Crystal,” Rico said.
TOMAS FOUND HIS FATHER in the outer school yard and they walked back around to the front of the church. They were heading for Twiggs when the mayor and his wife crossed their path. The mayor gave Joe a tip of the hat. His young wife gave Joe and Tomas a bright, if distant, smile.
“Mr. Mayor,” the mayor said to Joe with a hearty laugh and a firm handshake.
Back when Joe had run things in the 1920s and early 1930s, the Cubans and Spaniards had dubbed him “Mayor of Ybor.” Even now, the nickname showed up as a parenthetical in some newspaper articles when he was mentioned.
Joe could tell by the pinched look on Vanessa Belgrave’s face that she wasn’t a fan of the nickname.
Joe shook the man’s hand. “You’re the leader of this city, sir. Of that there’s no doubt. You know my son, Tomas?”
Jonathan Belgrave hitched his pants and bent to shake Tomas’s hand. “How are you, Tomas?”
“Fine, sir. Thank you.”
“I understand you’re fluent in
Similar Books
