Free The Last Collection by Seymour Blicker

saw written all over his face.”
    Big Moishie nodded understandingly.
    â€œAnyway, I was struggling wid myself. I couldn’t make up my mind what ta do. Dats why I kept saying we should hold off. . . . It was a struggle, believe me. Anyway, finally last week I tole myself: It’s enough already. Leave em go. You don need dis. Dats what I finally decided. I was jus waiting for de right time ta tell you. I was actually tinking about telling you like today or tomorrow but now I told you.”
    For a few seconds Big Moishie said nothing. With his lips pursed he simply nodded his head slowly. Finally he said, “I understand, Solly. I understand what you’re saying. But what I don’t understand is if this is the way you feel, then why did you take on this collection job for this Hankleman putz?”
    â€œWhy? . . . I know it’s crazy, Moishie, but I got it in my head ta do one last collection. I have ta prove it to myself dat I’m not going out because I lost my nerve. Like in de deal wid Saltpeter, like we boat know, dere was no risk an when I decided not ta do it I knew why. But wid de collecting dere is a risk. I mean, we boat know anyting can happen. I just gotta prove ta myself, ta make sure dat I still have it, dat I’m not going out fer de wrong reasons. Ya know whad I mean, Moishie?”
    â€œYes, I know,” the big man said. “Maybe after we finish with Hankleman we can sit down and discuss what we’re going to do—that is, if you want to do something together.”
    â€œAre ya serious, Moishie?” the Hawk asked excitedly.
    â€œSure. Why not? I’ve been doing some thinking too, you know. I have enough money too. But what do I do with it? Sweet fuck all. I have no kids, so who am I going to leave it to? My wife? Even she couldn’t spend it all in a hundred years. Maybe I’m tired of it all too. Eh? Why shouldn’t I want to get out? Am I so different?”
    â€œI’m sorry, Moishie.”
    â€œWhat for? You didn’t do anything. I’m the one who should be sorry because I’ve been thinking for years and I never said a thing to you. If I had, then maybe it would have saved us both a lot of tsouras.”
    The Hawk shrugged. “It’s all wadder under de dam, Moishie.“
    â€I know, I know.“
    For a few seconds neither man spoke. Big Moishie flicked his cigar and stared off across the room. Finally he turned to the Hawk. “Anyways, Solly, I feel good. I feel very good,” he said, grinning.
    â€œMe too, Moishie. I feel very good also.”
    â€œWe’ll talk after we finish with this Hankleman putz. Meanwhile, like I said, be careful on this job.”
    â€œNutting ta worry,” the Hawk replied with a grin.

Chapter Nine
    M orrie Hankleman arrived at Artie Kerner’s office shortly before noon. The office was a one-storey plant consisting mainly of warehouse space with offices in the front. Finding the reception area deserted, Morrie Hankleman walked towards the nearest office, the door of which was ajar, and looked in. Artie Kerner was sitting at his desk with a faraway look in his eye. At first he wasn’t aware of Hankleman standing there. Hankleman made a scraping noise against the door and Kerner looked up suddenly.
    â€œOh hello,” Kerner said unconcernedly.
    Hankleman became angry. For some reason, he was expecting Kerner to look shocked, perhaps even afraid, at seeing him there.
    â€œFor the last time, I need my money.”
    â€œI’m going to pay you, Mr. Hankleman, but it’s going to take just a little while longer.”
    â€œThat’s what you told me a month ago and two weeks ago and last week. Do you take me for some kind of idiot?”
    â€œNo, no, I don’t. Believe me. I’m just in a bind. I’m being choked.” Kerner put both hands to his throat.
    â€œYou’re being choked. What about me? Eh! What about me? I lent