saw written all over his face.â
Big Moishie nodded understandingly.
âAnyway, I was struggling wid myself. I couldnât 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: Itâs 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.â
For a few seconds Big Moishie said nothing. With his lips pursed he simply nodded his head slowly. Finally he said, âI understand, Solly. I understand what youâre saying. But what I donât understand is if this is the way you feel, then why did you take on this collection job for this Hankleman putz?â
âWhy? . . . I know itâs crazy, Moishie, but I got it in my head ta do one last collection. I have ta prove it to myself dat Iâm 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 Iâm not going out fer de wrong reasons. Ya know whad I mean, Moishie?â
âYes, I know,â the big man said. âMaybe after we finish with Hankleman we can sit down and discuss what weâre going to doâthat is, if you want to do something together.â
âAre ya serious, Moishie?â the Hawk asked excitedly.
âSure. Why not? Iâve 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 couldnât spend it all in a hundred years. Maybe Iâm tired of it all too. Eh? Why shouldnât I want to get out? Am I so different?â
âIâm sorry, Moishie.â
âWhat for? You didnât do anything. Iâm the one who should be sorry because Iâve 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.â
The Hawk shrugged. âItâs all wadder under de dam, Moishie.â
âI know, I know.â
For a few seconds neither man spoke. Big Moishie flicked his cigar and stared off across the room. Finally he turned to the Hawk. âAnyways, Solly, I feel good. I feel very good,â he said, grinning.
âMe too, Moishie. I feel very good also.â
âWeâll talk after we finish with this Hankleman putz. Meanwhile, like I said, be careful on this job.â
âNutting ta worry,â the Hawk replied with a grin.
Chapter Nine
M orrie Hankleman arrived at Artie Kernerâs 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 wasnât aware of Hankleman standing there. Hankleman made a scraping noise against the door and Kerner looked up suddenly.
âOh hello,â Kerner said unconcernedly.
Hankleman became angry. For some reason, he was expecting Kerner to look shocked, perhaps even afraid, at seeing him there.
âFor the last time, I need my money.â
âIâm going to pay you, Mr. Hankleman, but itâs going to take just a little while longer.â
âThatâs what you told me a month ago and two weeks ago and last week. Do you take me for some kind of idiot?â
âNo, no, I donât. Believe me. Iâm just in a bind. Iâm being choked.â Kerner put both hands to his throat.
âYouâre being choked. What about me? Eh! What about me? I lent