Mafia Portraits

John W. Petterson

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Mafia Portraits

Prologue

How much do I despise the Mafia? Let me tell you tell you the ways.

After a long drive from Minneapolis, Minnesota, to Springfield, Massachusetts, I was ready for a cold beer and a sandwich. The afternoon spring sun was sinking toward evening when I found the Willow Street Café just south of downtown Springfield. The sound of many voices talking stopped when I sat at the bar. As I looked around I could see that the Willows was definitely a blue-collar bar and I didn’t exactly fit in: clean-shaven, trimmed hair, dressed in slacks, sport coat and shined shoes; thus, the silence — in addition to being a stranger.

A smiling, friendly bartender asked me what I wanted and I started with a bottle of Miller High Life. He commented that I must be from another state because of my accent. I replied that I had just arrived, where I was from and why I was there. He welcomed me to the Willows. The sound level then started to pick up.

The bar was long and straight along the west wall. Booths were along the other walls and tables for four were in the center. A jukebox was in the corner near the front door. One thing seemed interesting to me: there was no pool table, such as I’d find in the Midwest. There were three bartenders and a lady who was the cook and waitress. They all had physical features that told me they were probably Italian. I was right.

The three bartenders were brothers and the lady was the wife of the oldest brother, who seemed to be in charge of the business. He had a bit of a hard-nosed approach to running it. The jovial bartender was the second brother and was friendly and joked with everyone. The third brother was quiet and didn’t smile much. It was almost like he was constantly preoccupied. Later on I found out that he once had a body shop, where he also ran numbers, got caught and spent some time in prison. He went to work with his brothers when he finished serving his time.

I never fully understood the numbers racket, but I discovered how sick it can be at times. During one of my frequent visits to the Willows I heard someone say that one of the customers hit several hundred dollars when his numbers came up. His numbers coincided with the flight number of a plane that had crashed at La Guardia Airport in New York City the day before.

How can someone be jubilant over winning money at the expense of a tragedy?

Another thing bothered me about gambling money and how the Mafia worked for its selfish interests at the expense of those who could least afford it. One evening a woman, carrying a young child, came into the Willows and was yelling at her husband to come home and use his money to buy food and buy the child shoes. I then looked at the child, who was barefoot. She continued yelling at him to quit drinking so much beer and to stop throwing money away playing the numbers. He told her to get out and leave him alone. The jovial bartender, feigning concern, told the man that maybe he should go home and spend time with his family. The woman left with the child. The man stayed and kept drinking, saying that no woman was going to tell him what to do.

After a few weeks of going to the Willows, I got to know the Springfield area better and decided that I needed to broaden my horizons for relaxation and entertainment. I really wanted to find a place that had live music. One acquaintance told me about three different bars. There was a club in West Springfield that was a disco place with a younger crowd. A lounge at the rotary by Agawam, called the Rotary Lounge, had a trio that attracted a variety of people. The third was the Green Lantern on Allen Street at the southeast corner of Springfield.

New adventures were about to unfold.

I started off one Friday evening in West Springfield. Yes, the disco place certainly attracted a younger crowd. The band was amplified to the threshold of pain. One beer was enough!

The Rotary Lounge was fairly close; the evening was young and I was hungry for good entertainment. I sat at the end of the horseshoe-shaped bar. Behind me was a large lounge. The trio, made up of piano, bass and drums, was just getting set up on a low stage by the dance floor. I stayed for a few hours, enjoying the music and visiting occasionally with the bartender and the man sitting next to me.

I decided to try the Green Lantern the next night. The place was quite crowded. It had a very large horseshoe-shaped bar that seated at least thirty people, a high ceiling and a large island inside the bar. At the end of the island was a piano with a man seated at it. A lady had just gone up the island’s steps, picked up a microphone and nodded to the piano man to start playing. What a beautiful voice she had! She started off with one of my Barbra Streisand favorites, People, and followed it with songs made popular by Ella Fitzgerald, Frank Sinatra and other fine singers. I was sitting at a small cocktail table near the bar and had a clear view of her and listened intently. I applauded after each song. She noticed me and would “sing” to me, it seemed, most of the time.

When it was time for her break she came over to me and asked if she could sit with me. Of course! I told her how much I enjoyed her singing and that I especially liked her Streisand numbers. She said Barbra was her favorite female vocalist, too. We talked about music until it was time for her to return and perform the next set. When that set was over she again sat with me. I said that she should be on records. She explained to me that she was a beautician during the day and sang at the lounge on Friday and Saturday nights. Her boyfriend had gotten her the gig. She went on to further explain that her boyfriend did business with The Boys (whoever they were) and they were going to get her into a New York City recording studio and then get her a recording contract. It sounded like a cool arrangement to me.

For several weeks I patronized the Rotary and the Lantern on weeknights as well as weekends. Sometimes I would stop in at the Rotary after work and have a couple of Johnny Walker Red with water. On a Saturday night I was sitting at the bar and enjoying the trio, who took requests, when the man next to me told me to ask them to play Born Free. When I asked for the song, the pianist laughed and said he knew who set me up for the request. The trio performed it in a symphonic-style that had the people cheering wildly when the song ended. When they guys took a break I talked with the pianist and told him about the vocalist at the Lantern and that I thought she should be performing with his trio. He shrugged it off saying that the people at the Lantern needed entertainment, too. Little did I know that I had just missed a golden opportunity to keep my mouth shut.

One Friday night I was sitting at the bar at the Lantern and enjoying the songstress. I noticed a man on the opposite side of the bar staring at me. I ignored him. When I looked again he was staring at me. This was starting to make me feel a bit uncomfortable. When the set ended the songstress stopped by me for a moment and said that she couldn’t talk with me anymore because her boyfriend was jealous and thought I was trying to take her away from him. Nothing could have been further from the truth. I simply enjoyed hearing the music and visiting with her. She said he was impossible and that he believed what he wanted to believe.

I went back to the Lantern the next night, hoping the boyfriend wouldn’t be there so I could visit with the songstress. No such luck. He stared at me; I ignored. I listened to and applauded for every song. She never looked at me, not even once. When the set was over she walked past me, around to the other side of the bar and sat by her boyfriend, who, I found out, was married. A guy sitting next to me commented about her singing voice, which started our conversation. He liked jazz piano, especially Erroll Garner, Oscar Peterson and Dave Brubeck. I told him I was a fan of theirs and had a lot of their records in my large collection. He said he didn’t have any of their albums, but would like to borrow some of mine if that was okay with me. I lied and said I’d put some in a box and keep them in the trunk of my car so I’d have them the next time we met. There was no way I was going to loan any of my records to a stranger!

The disco place seemed like the place to go on the following Saturday night. For some reason, I was in the mood for something a little different. It was early enough that the band hadn’t started. I sat at a cocktail table and ordered a Miller High Life from the waiter. He set it and a glass down and gave me my change. While drinking my beer, I noticed a man wearing a powder-blue suit moving around by the back wall. He’d go in a door and in a few minutes he’d come out another door on the other side of the room. I can’t explain it, but I was starting to feel uneasy. The waiter came back when my bottle was empty. I told him I’d like another one, but not to open it. I had an opener on my knife. The man in the blue suit appeared occasionally. The waiter came back and I ordered another unopened beer. Again, the blue suit was visible. When the waiter returned next time, he said I couldn’t have anymore unopened beers. I thanked him and left.

The evening was not going to be wasted. I drove to the Lantern. It was packed when I went inside. I stood inside the doorway and looked around for a place to sit, and as I searched I saw the songstress lean over and talk to the piano man. I spotted an opening at the bar and as I started to walk toward the bar the songstress looked at me and began to sing a Streisand number, “How does the wine taste? Does it sting your lips?…” I immediately had the feeling she was trying to tell me something. But what? I sat at the bar and recognized the fellow sitting to my right; the one who wants to borrow my records. Seated to my far left, by the wall was the songster’s boyfriend. Four other men were between him and me. A flash of color across the bar and to my left grabbed my attention. It was the guy in the blue suit going into the back room. I’m starting to become a bit paranoid and wondered if he was following me. I certainly hadn’t given him or anyone else cause to bother me.

The bartender came to me saying that he had my favorite beer on ice and that it was even opened. He pulled a bottle of High Life from the crushed-ice well and set it and a glass in front of me. For the first time ever, I poured straight into the glass. That’s strange, I thought, no foam, no bubbles. Before I took a drink, I noticed the boyfriend nudge the guy next to him with his elbow. This continued to the guy next to me, who nudged me and told me to pass it on. Paranoia is really settling in now! I told him that I didn’t play kid games and that I wouldn’t pass it on. He told me to pass it back to him, which I again refused. I had the feeling that if I got involved in their game that someone was going to beat the daylights out of me — that this was their justification that I started the fight. I picked up my glass and sniffed it before I put it to my lips. The odor told me that the dirty, rotten bastards had peed in the bottle! I set the glass down and told the guy on my right that I had the records he wanted to borrow in my car. I said I’d get them and be right back.

I hurried out to the car, got in and drove home — trembling all the way. My mind was racing wildly with thoughts as to why they were doing this. I had no clue, but I was glad I picked up the cue from the songstress.

For several days I stayed away from all bars and lounges, still trying to sort out the why me. Then one afternoon after work I decided to go to the Rotary. That certainly has to be safe, I thought. It’s daylight, no music, few people. When I pulled into the lot only one car was there. I went inside, sat down and waited for the bartender. He came from the backroom and without looking at me asked if I wanted my usual Red and water, to which I answered yes. He took the bottle from the shelf, and instead of making the drink in front of me he stood off to the side where I couldn’t see him and he mixed it there. He set it in front of me and walked away. I caught a glimpse of someone peeking through the window of the backroom. The head disappeared and then popped up a few seconds later. Paranoia is returning. Normally, I would take a big swallow of my first drink; this time I didn’t. I picked it up, sniffed it and noticed it had more of an odor than just scotch. I took a very small sip and set the glass down. The head popped up in the window again. I started to feel a bit strange — almost dizzy. I told the bartender that I really didn’t feel like drinking and then I left. There was a car parked next to mine. Why was it there? No one in it and no one had come in the front door. The dizzy feeling was getting worse and all I could think about was getting out of there and going home, where I felt I’d be safe. I was so spooked that my body shook almost to the point of convulsing. At home I lay down, still feeling weird and dizzy and shaking violently.

A few days later I talked with a friend about what had been happening. He said that he thought it was low-level Mafia who were giving me all the grief. He further speculated that they wanted me to quit going to the Rotary and Lantern because of the songstress, her jealous boyfriend and the music connection.

Where then could I go and have a few beers? He told me about a lounge on the west side of Westfield, a lounge where he and his wife went and a friend of his worked there. He gave me directions and said he hoped to see me there soon.

This is where my story starts. It is a novel based on many true experiences. I finally was able to get even for the way I despised them and for what they did to me. —J.W.P.

This novel is based on actual events that John experienced from September 1967 to September 1969. Most characters are composites of several people who were friends or acquaintances of John at that time; a few characters are portrayed as their true selves. Many dialogues are verbatim. Most locations are real. John died before the completion of this novel. As his brother, I was privy to many of the events related in this story and completed the story as faithfully as I could. I visited John an several occasions while he lived in the Springfield area and have had a few drinks and a few dinners at the haunts he describes. I also lived in Springfield a few years before John moved there and I’m well acquainted with the locales and, generally speaking, the people involved in this story. - Chuck Petterson

Chapter One

Jerry turned his ’50 Chevy panel truck into the parking lot of the Tree House and stopped by the door. It was four thirty Friday afternoon in early September 1967 and only one other car was in the lot. The Tree House was a lounge and restaurant nestled in the eastern slopes of the Berkshire Mountains, on the western edge of Westfield, Massachusetts. He got out and walked under the sign that had monkeys hanging from tree limbs and the sign read, Hang out at the Tree House. Although the Tree House was not far from his studio, Jerry had not visited during his stay in Massachusetts.

It only took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the dimmer interior light and take in the neat arrangement of the lounge. To the right was the dining room with barren tables in orderly rows like soldiers waiting in readiness for the evening’s inspection. Straight ahead and to the left: a horseshoe-shaped bar surrounded with small cocktail tables. Each table had four chairs crowded around. A large jukebox stood between the lounge and dining room. Jerry thought it was brighter than the surroundings and he looked to the ceiling and saw two small spotlights aimed with precision on the machine. He smiled and nodded in appreciation of the subtle touch of lighting. Jerry strolled ahead and set his slender, six-foot frame at the bar, two stools away from the waitress station, located next to the wall at his right.

Odors of stale smoke and spilled beer hung in the air like an invisible fog. He added to it when he lit a cigarette.

The bartender walked up and tossed a dry bar towel over his shoulder. “What’ll ya have, buddy?” The bartender was about forty, tall with thinning black hair, paunchy, but not fat, and dark complexioned. A neatly trimmed mustache complimented his strong jaw line.

“I’ll have a bottle of Bud,” Jerry reached into his back pocket for his wallet.

The bartender set the bottle and glass on separate coasters. “That’ll be seventy-five cents,”

Maybe that’s why the beer is so expensive here, Jerry mused, you have to pay for the extras. In most places beer is only fifty or sixty cents.

“I haven’t seen you before. Are you new around here? — I’m Angelo Cardalloni, everyone calls me Card.” The bartender extended his hand across the bar. Jerry offered his and noticed Card had a very firm grip.

“I’m Jerry Hartwick — a professional photographer from Minneapolis. I’m here working on a sales brochure for Continental Bicycles. As a matter of fact, I’m meeting Morris Skillman, the plant manager at Continental, and his wife here. They said you have good food and we’re going to have supper. I think his wife said they might bring someone along — a date for me.”

“I know Morris and Shirley. They come in here a few times a month,” Card said as he rubbed the towel along the back of the bar. “I wonder why they didn’t bring you in earlier.”

“They asked me a couple times, but with my workload and deadlines to get the photo shoot done, I haven’t had much time. But now that I’m just about finished, I have a little time for a life beyond work,” Jerry snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray as he finished speaking.

The phone rang and Card went to answer it. When it appeared that Card was going to be on the phone for a while, Jerry ambled over to look at the jukebox. He was amazed when he saw all the great tunes it held — favorite songs and artists of his from the ’thirties, ’forties and ’fifties. He returned to the bar and had a few more swallows of beer before Card was off the phone.

Card hung up the phone and pushed it toward the corner of the back bar. “Another beer, Jerry?”.

“Might as well have one. I was looking at your jukebox while you were on the phone. I’m impressed with it, really impressed — great sounds and only a nickel a play, six for a quarter! I haven’t seen that for years. How can you run it and make any money at five cents a song?”

Card set Jerry’s beer down, pulled up a stool on his side of the bar, sat down, leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. He got a wistful, distant look on his face, “The jukebox is special to me. My dad got his start working with Benny the Beak right after World War II. Benny had Western Massachusetts as his territory so he and my dad put jukeboxes in all the restaurants and bars. The jukeboxes launched Benny and Dad in a big way and that got them into more businesses and a lot more money. Dad died about two years ago and while he was on his deathbed he made me promise that I’d stay out of the rackets. And I honored his wishes, but I do help out The Boys when they ask. They were good to my dad and now they’re really good to my mother. Every Monday morning, before the mailman gets there, Mom goes out to the mailbox and there’s an envelope stuffed with cash. She doesn’t have to worry about being in her retirement years.” Card paused as he took out a handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes.

“Wow! That’s really interesting,” Jerry said and turned toward the jukebox, “and that’s quite a tribute to your dad.”

“Yeah,” Card continued after putting the handkerchief away, “and it was with his help that I got this place. Oh, I don’t own it myself — I have two silent partners that helped with the money, but I run it like it’s my own.”

The door opened and an older man came in followed by a younger woman, but it soon became apparent that they weren’t together. Both said hello to Card as they entered. The man sat down two stools at Jerry’s left and the woman went through a door by the dining room. As Jerry looked at the man, he noticed he had an enormous nose. The man was about sixty-five, large and heavy. His thick glasses made his brown eyes look bug-eyed. He smoked a cigar that didn’t stink.

Card made the introductions. “Jerry, this is Benny Antenucci. Benny — Jerry.”

Jerry reached across the empty barstool, “Mr. Antenucci, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I was just noticing your cigar — it smells like a premium make.”

“Just call me Benny,” he said, shaking Jerry’s hand with a grip that told Jerry he was a strong man. “I only smoke the best cigars made. These came from an island south of Florida. We can’t get ’em here, so we import ’em from Canada.” He took another puff and let the smoke roll slowly from his mouth.

The woman came out and went to the waitress station. She busied herself by setting up napkins, stir sticks and containers for olives, cherries and cocktail onions. A pretty, dark-complexioned, most likely Italian woman of about thirty, she was slender and on the short side, with raven-black, shoulder-length hair that had a soft, natural wave. Her brown eyes were stunningly beautiful that almost said, Hi, I’d like to be your friend. Her mini-skirt was iridescent blue, like that in a peacock’s fanned tail. The skirt showed off nice legs and a shimmery, light blue blouse, with one button undone, left little to the imagination. A set of rings on the third finger of her left hand indicated that she’s probably married.

“Hi,” she said to Jerry and flashed a smile of straight, white teeth. “I’m Angelina, but everyone calls me Ang or Angie.”

“Hello, Angie. I’m Jerry,” he answered with a smile that showed two crooked teeth.

“I’m assuming that’s your truck out there with the Minnesota plates,” she said as she cleaned around her station.

“That it is,” he answered while getting a cigarette from the pack.

Card interrupted and explained to Benny and Angie about Jerry’s presence in the lounge. “Jerry’s a photographer and he’s working with Morris at the bike factory. He’s been here for several months, but he’s been too busy to come in before now. Morris and Shirley are coming over to have dinner with him.”

“So you’re a photographer,” Benny said as he tapped ash from his cigar into the ashtray. “Do you take wedding pictures?”

Jerry rubbed his elbow, “I specialize in commercial photography, but I’ve done some portraiture and weddings. I just like commercial work a lot better. You don’t have to deal with egos or personalities in the photos.”

“Would you take my portrait?” Angie teased with her chest stuck out and hand on her hip.

“I think I could handle photographing you,” Jerry said as he felt an expansion in his shorts.

Jerry turned toward Benny when he heard the question again. “Do you take wedding pictures?”

“I have photographed weddings, but they aren’t my favorite thing to do,” Jerry replied.

“Thanks. That’s all I wanted to know.” Benny seemed satisfied with the answer.

While talking with Benny, the door had opened and then Jerry felt someone sit down to his right. He figured it was Morris and Shirley and turned to greet them. It wasn’t them, but a woman about his age.

“Jerry?” A raised eyebrow indicated her hopefulness.

“Yes,” he said, and looked baffled.

“Hi, Jerry. I’m Lois Porter — Morris and Shirley are old family friends and they called me last night and asked if I’d have dinner with them and you.” She called out for Card to bring her a drink. There was nothing eye-catching about Lois. She was about five-six, with medium length, slightly curly brown hair and a pleasant face. Dark-rimmed glasses set off her emerald eyes and a quiet smile. A black suit covered a green blouse that was buttoned discretely to her collarbone and covered what appeared to be an average bust.

Jerry scratched his head a little nervously. “Pleased to meet you, Lois. How did you know how to recognize me?”

“Oh, that was easy. I knew you were here by your truck. Morris described the metallic cranberry red panel truck. And Shirley described you — you know, she’s right, your hair does kind of look like a hay stack that a herd of cows munched on as they passed it,” Lois reached over and tried to pat down the fly-away hair on the back of his head.

“Yeah, my hair is totally wild. I’ve never been able to tame it — I’ve tried everything short of shaving it all off. At my age, I didn’t want to look like a cue ball,” Jerry said as he poured the last of the beer from the bottle into his glass.

The door opened and several more people came in. Morris and Shirley were not among them. Jerry thought it was getting close to the time when they should arrive.

Card set down a beer for Jerry and vodka sour for Lois. “These are from Benny,”

Jerry poured some beer in his glass and picked up the glass as he turned toward Benny. “Thanks for the drinks. We really appreciate it.”

“Think nothing of it,” Benny said as he pushed away from the bar and headed toward the door. “See you later, Card,” he called over his shoulder. “Say ‘hello’ to your mom for me.”

“Will do, Benny, and thanks for coming in,” Card called back as the door closed behind Benny.

Jerry noticed something on the floor by Benny’s barstool. He bent down and picked up a hundred-dollar bill. “Hey, Card, it looks like Benny dropped this,” Jerry held the bill up.

Card took it and hurried to the door, then came back right away saying Benny had just pulled out of the lot. He took the bill behind the bar and set it under a glass by the phone.

Lois tugged lightly on Jerry’s sleeve, “Do you know him?”

“Who? Which him?”

“Benny the Beak,” Lois leaned closer, almost whispering in Jerry’s ear. “He’s the head of the Mafia in Western Massachusetts and before Card’s dad died, he was the number two man.”

Jerry whispered back, “No, I don’t know him. He came in while I was talking with Card and he sat there and asked about wedding photography — why he’s asking about my photographing weddings is a mystery to me. Card was telling me how his dad and Benny had a business putting jukeboxes in bars and restaurants.”

Lois stirred her drink with the swizzle stick, and then leaned close to Jerry. “Card’s dad’s and Benny’s business was coercion, not a normal business operation. The guys who are in the Mafia — they’re known as The Boys — are scum. They target people’s weaknesses and take their money, simply put.”

The phone rang and Card went to answer it. Funny thing about bar phones, whenever they ring everyone looks up to see if it’s for them. “Lois, it’s for you,” Card said, taking the phone to the end of the bar.

Lois returned to tell Jerry that Morris called to cancel their dinner date. Shirley had gone home early from work with a migraine.

“Well, you and I could have dinner together,” Jerry suggested, “that is if you want to stay.”

Lois leaned against him “I’d love to, Jerry, it’s like it was meant to be.”

The subtlety of her perfume tweaked his interest in her. “When did you graduate?”

“From what,” she answered, “high school or a university?”

“High school.”

“1958 — and you?”

“1957, which makes us about the same age. I just turned twenty-eight last month,” Jerry peeled part of the label from his beer bottle out of habit.

Lois reached for a cigarette in her purse. “I’ll be there with you in January,”

“Here, let me light that for you,” Jerry held out his lighter, spun the wheel and ignited the wick.

Lois leaned forward slightly to catch the flame. “Thanks.”

Jerry turned in his barstool, rested his elbow on the bar. “Would you like to go out tomorrow night — maybe dinner and a movie — or whatever you like?”

She was surprised, “Wh–why, yes! That sounds like fun. And if it’s okay with you, I’d be happy coming here again for dinner. The dance floor’s small, but the music is great. Maybe we can try it on for size tonight. Just so I don’t forget, here’s my address and phone number.” She wrote on the back of her business card and handed it to Jerry. Without looking at it, he put it in his shirt pocket.

The phone rang and everyone watched Card as he answered. He turned his back on the bar and talked toward the wall. As he talked, he nodded several times, but didn’t around. It was probably his wife asking him to pick up a loaf of bread and a half-gallon of milk on the way home.

Card hung up the phone, went over to Jerry and handed him the one hundred-dollar bill. “This is from Benny. He was so impressed with your honesty in returning the money he dropped that he wants you to take it as a down payment for a wedding he wants you to photograph next month for one of The Boys.”

Jerry pushed the bill back to Card. “Tell Benny thanks, but no thanks. I’m not interested in photographing a wedding and I’ll be leaving in about two weeks, so I won’t even be around next month.”

“He’s not going to be happy about this,” Card’s voice implied more of a warning than a statement.

Card walked away to put the bill back under a glass by the phone. “What did he mean?”

Lois leaned into him and whispered, “When The Boys give you an offer you can’t refuse, you have to take it.”

“This is a free country, or have they forgotten? I don’t have to do something just because someone else wants me to do it,” Jerry whispered, somewhat riled.

“Jerry, dear naïve Jerry, the Boys don’t deal in what’s right. They do what they want and right now the head man wants you to do something for him because he likes you. At least that’s the way I see it. Let’s go into the dining room. I’m ready for a little change.”

Angie carried their drinks to a dining room table and told them the dining room waitress would be with them in a few minutes. Lois excused herself to go to the ladies’ room. While Lois was away, Jerry got out her business card: Massachusetts School for the Deaf, Lois Porter, Ph.D., Assistant Educational Director.

When Lois returned, Jerry said, “Nice credentials, Doctor Porter. I’m duly impressed.”

“C’mon, Jerry, please don’t make a big deal out of my accomplishments. Every time I’ve gone out with a guy we’ve gotten along fine until he finds out I have a doctorate,” Lois took a sip of her drink. “They acted like they weren’t good enough for me because of my education. After talking with Shirley and Morris I hoped you were different — just a regular guy. After all, I’m just a regular girl who spent a lot of time getting an education in a field that I believe is important.”

“I’m sorry, Lois, I didn’t mean to make anything of your position, it’s just that I’m — well, I’m impressed and I’d like to hear all about it,” Jerry reached across the table and grasped her hand with an assuring squeeze.

Lois looked amazed as she returned the squeeze, “Really? You really want to know?”

“Yes. Really.”

“This is a first — no, you are the first one who has actually said he was interested in hearing about what I do.” Lois looked up and stopped talking when the door opened. She watched for a few moments then said, “There’s trouble if I ever saw it.”

“What is?” Jerry asked.

Lois leaned over the table. “That guy in the powder-blue suit that’s what — or who in this case,”

“The guy leaning over the bar?”

“Yes. He’s probably talking with Card. He always wears a powder-blue suit, so most of us call him Mr. Blue Suit. Guess I should tell you he’s one of Benny the Beak’s henchmen. If something needs to be done, Mr. Blue Suit either does it or sees to it that someone else does whatever has to be done. I wonder what he’s doing here? He’s always in Springfield or West Springfield — never way out here in Westfield, or even in Holyoke.”

It didn’t take long for Jerry and Lois to find out what Mr. Blue Suit wanted. Card escorted him over to their table and asked if they could join them for a couple minutes. Jerry made a friendly gesture to the empty seat.

Mr. Blue Suit asked Card to set the hundred-dollar bill in front of Jerry, and then said, “One of The Boys’ daughters is getting married next month and Benny wants you to take this as a down payment to take pictures at the wedding. I understand you don’t want the money or the job. I think it would be a very good idea if you reconsider the offer and give me an answer when I get back from the men’s room. — By the way, that’s a nice looking panel truck. — I’ll be right back. Don’t go away.”

Card excused himself to get back to the bar customers.

“They got you,” Lois whispered. “If you don’t photograph the wedding, they’ll mess up your truck.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured that,” Jerry said with a choked voice. “What should I do, Lois? I’ve never been threatened before and I don’t know what to think.”

“Would it make any difference in your plans if you did stay a little longer — just to do this one wedding then go back home?” Lois offered.

“I could tell them I’ll do it, then just leave town when I’m finished at Continental in a couple weeks.”

“Not a good idea, Jerry. They probably already know that you’ll be finishing before the wedding and they’ll be watching to be sure that you don’t skip out if you say you’ll do the wedding. Believe me, I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes if you said that you’d do it, then tried to skip town. As much as I dislike The Boys, if I were you I’d take the job and their money, then leave as soon as possible.” Lois sat back in her chair with her arms crossed and a look of resignation on her face. Lois thought, I wish you’d stay longer, Jerry. I really would like to get to know you.

It wasn’t long until Mr. Blue Suit returned. “Well, Jerry,” he said in a friendly way and patted Jerry on the back, “did you decide?”

“Sure. I’ll hang around for a while and be the wedding photographer,” Jerry said with a confident smile.

“Good. Keep the hundred down payment and here’s another five bills to cover your expenses in the meantime. Be sure to come in once in a while. Card will give you the details later.” He turned and left, giving a brief wave to Card as he went out the door.

“How would you feel if we held off having dinner for two or three hours?” Lois asked. “You look like you could use some quiet time to sort things out. Am I right?”

“Right you are, Doctor — I’m sorry, I mean Lois.’ Jerry looked earnestly at Lois. “What do you recommend that I do?”

With softness in her face that Jerry hadn’t seen before, she said, “Let’s go over to my house and relax for a while. I’d like to slip out of this outfit and into something more comfortable. Then when we’re ready, I’ll fix dinner for us. I have steaks and unopened wine in the refrigerator.”

Jerry followed Lois and he noticed that she drove carefully, obeying the speed limit and leaving ample space between her car and the one ahead of her. The familiar drive on Route 20 to West Springfield seemed to take an eternity. Jerry wondered if Lois’ precise driving style was an indication of other rigid attitudes.

I wonder if tonight’s the night. Naw, this is only a first date — well, not even a real first date, sort of a first get-together — no, I guess it’s really a date. We were supposed to have had a dinner date with the Skillmans so I’ll call it a date — that doesn’t mean anything other than just that: a date. Guess I’ll be content to have a peck on the cheek when I leave. I mean, after all, she implied that she didn’t really go out much. She’s obviously very intelligent, but that doesn’t mean she has good dating or social skills. No, I can’t say that either. What do I know about her? Nothing, except she drives in a very controlled fashion.

Lois slowed and turned on her right turn signal. Jerry followed her into the driveway by a ranch-style house. She parked her ’65 Falcon, as plain and unremarkable as Jerry’s panel truck was ostentatious, in front of a two-car garage, got out, opened the garage door and signaled Jerry to move up near the door after she drove in.

“I always go in the back door,” Lois took Jerry’s hand and led him up the stair steps. Jerry held the screen door open while she unlocked the door. “Come on in. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s home to me.” Lois turned to the wall and switched on the kitchen lights.

“This is really nice. I can’t believe how clean your kitchen is; in comparison, mine looks like a dump. How do you find time to keep it so neat?”

Lois almost mumbled, “When one doesn’t have much of a social life, one must do something to occupy one’s time.”

There was an awkward moment of silence.

“Well, tour guide,” Jerry jested, “show me the rest of your princess palace.”

Lois laughed, “Oh, come on, Jerry, it’s just a house!”

“I wouldn’t say that. To me you’re a princess; therefore, this must be your palace.”

Lois turned to Jerry, put her arms around him and Jerry responded in kind. “You are too kind, Jerry. It’s hard for me to believe that we just met. I already feel like I’ve known you for a long time. I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“Thank you, Lois. I feel the same way. — Strange, isn’t it?”

Lois tilted her head back; Jerry tilted his head down and they kissed lightly.

Lois took Jerry’s hand and led him from the kitchen “Come into the living room and relax while I get out of these work clothes. Sit wherever you like. I’ll be back soon.”

Jerry looked around and chose the couch because a coffee table was in front of it.

Lois returned in a few minutes wearing a semi-sheer mandarin gown, and seeing her in it Jerry thought he had just made his first step into Heaven. “I’m glad you sat there so we can set our glasses on the coffee table and I hope you like white wine. I have chardonnay, which is my favorite.”

“Sure do. Never met a grape I didn’t like.”

“Don’t go away,” Lois said with a muted smile, almost purring, “I’ll be right back.”

Damn, this is getting to be too good. Am I dreaming or is it for real? That gown — it looks like it’s all she has on. Jerry rubbed his chin and then scratched the side of his face. He felt his whiskers and wondered if he should have shaved before going to the Tree House. Why didn’t I shave? It would have taken only a few minutes. Damn.

Lois returned with the bottle of wine and two wine glasses. She set them on the coffee table and then went over to her stereo. She picked up an album and turned the cover toward Jerry, “Do you like the Keith Textor Singers?”

“Yes, they are one of my favorite groups and their songs are verrrry romantic. Say — isn’t it the guy who’s supposed to make all the moves with music and wine?”

Lois didn’t reply, but did give Jerry a seductive smile over her shoulder as she placed the record on the spindle and started the phonograph. He’s a real kick and maybe tonight will be special for me. It sure has been a long dry spell in my social life, not to mention missing the tingly feeling of skin next to mine — even if it’s nothing more than being held close and having my back rubbed — and there’s no harm in a girl dreaming.

“Would you like me to pour?” Jerry offered and reached for the bottle.

Lois settled in next to Jerry. “Please do.”

He filled the glasses, handed Lois hers and then lifted his glass toward Lois and toasted, “Here’s to a lovely lady and my desire to get to know her better.”

Lois extended her hand toward Jerry. He got the message and they encircled their arms and took their first sips. Lois lowered her glass to the table and looked at Jerry with a serious expression. “Jerry, I know we met just a few hours ago, but I want to tell you something.”

“Go ahead, Lois, I’m all ears, as they old cliché goes.”

“From the moment I met you — well, it was just a strange feeling that you were so approachable — you seem to be so open and honest — it’s kinda like there’s an aura about you. It’s intangible. I can’t describe it exactly.”

“I understand what you’re saying, Lois,” Jerry replied, stretching his arms and being careful not to bump her. “All my life people — including strangers — have talked with me, many telling me their innermost thoughts and deepest secrets. I’ll go to my grave carrying a lot of other peoples’ secrets and personal information. The only thing I can guess is that people sense that I’m a listener, that I care and I don’t repeat what I’m told. When I was a young boy, my mother would ask me why I was always so secretive. I told her that’s just the way I was. Or in the words of Popeye, ‘I yam what I yam’.”

They were quiet for several moments as they listened to the record playing “Moonlight Becomes You.” Lois got up and went around the room closing the drapes.

“I just love that song, The entire album is nothing short of being the best vocal mood music I have ever heard.” Lois paused for several seconds. “Do you mind if we talk about the Tree House?”

“No, not at all. Actually, I’m interested in learning about the place. It seems to have a life of its own; quite different from any other bar or lounge I’ve been in.”

“I’m not too crazy about going in there anymore. I used to go in once or twice a week until one night I was sitting there visiting with Card and Angie when a guy came over from the other side of the bar and sat down next to me. He’d probably been drinking for at least two hours. He whispered that he’d like to lick and kiss me from head to toe. The thought of it isn’t repulsive to me, but he was repulsive. I was so incensed that I got up and left. Shortly after I got home the phone rang. It was Angie asking why I left so abruptly and I explained what happened. She was appalled and said he was one of The Boys who only goes in there occasionally and that she would ask Card if he would talk to the clod.” Lois took a deep breath, slowly exhaled and continued. “I guess I’ll go in again, but only with you — if that’s okay with you, Jerry.”

“I would consider it an honor to be your escort!” he responded, reaching over to the coffee table and dragging a crystal ashtray, where they could both reach it. “Cigarette?”

“I’ll have one of yours — we smoke the same brand.”

He lit their cigarettes, and they both sipped their wine “Please continue. You’ve only touched on one subject.”

“Well, that jerk was a certified, card-carrying asshole — pardon my French.”

Jerry smiled. “No need to apologize for your French. I spent four years in the Navy and we — I really should say, they — seemed to know words that didn’t exist anywhere else! I was still in boot camp when I got tired of hearing ‘fuck.’ It seemed that there was a hidden force that made that word replace all decent adjectives that are found in the dictionary. Before we left to go home from our last day in boot camp our company commander cautioned us that when we were at the supper table to not say, ‘pass me the fuckin’ butter.’ He said they don’t want to get letters from our congressmen telling them not to teach the recruits bad language.”

Jerry scratched his head for a moment. “Now don’t get me wrong, I sometimes do use expletives when I get angry, which is very rare, or if there’s a situation where I feel crude language fits. Then there are times I just feel like tossing in a cuss word.”

Lois reached one hand behind Jerry’s head and massaged his neck for several seconds. “We got off track a little. I have a feeling that there’s more going on in the Tree House than just serving drinks and food. I can’t say for sure, but I think Card or his partners, maybe all three of them, have something going on that’s less than — let’s say, less than kosher. I know that Card isn’t one of The Boys but he sure is cozy with them. Maybe it has to do with his dad having been one of them and Card is trusted equally.” Lois drew long and slowly on her cigarette.

“That’s it? Just a feeling?” Jerry finished his wine.

Lois refilled both glasses. “Sort of. It’s just that Benny and some of the others come in once in a while and they sit on the far side of the bar, probably so they can keep an eye on the front door, and they talk with Card in low voices. It’s like watching a school of minnows in shallow lake water: they come in together and leave together.”

“This is all foreign to me,” Jerry said, extinguishing his cigarette and then reaching for his wine, “but kind of fascinating. We don’t have anything like the Mafia in Minneapolis. You seemed to be tuned in very well. How is that?”

“It’s pretty much a way of life in this area. New York and Chicago mobs get all of the publicity, but they are all over this region. Not so much in Vermont or Maine. There are a lot of stories, of course. I have witnessed a few things that validated the stories, at least to my satisfaction. The other thing is these guys pretty much dress the same and when there is a large group they are cookie cutter identical. They aren’t hard to spot.”

Not wasting breath on a segue Lois asked, “How hungry are you? Instead of taking time to grill steaks, would you like some fried chicken? I have some in the ’fridge left over from Wednesday night. — I’m really not all that hungry right now, but I’ll certainly feed us if you’re hungry.”

Rubbing his ear, Jerry pondered for a moment. “I’m not all that hungry either, so let’s save the chicken for another time.”

“How ’bout if we finish our wine and do a little dancing to this lovely music?”

“Sounds like a good plan to me.”

They raised the glasses to each other, drained them, got up, wrapped their arms around each other and moved slowly to the music.

“Mmmmmm, this music is so dreamy,” Lois murmured, “that it’s really putting me in a mood. The wine and your closeness are totally a part of the mood.”

Jerry felt like his bones were turning to pudding and hoped he wouldn’t crumble on the spot.

The record ended and Lois went to turn it over. When she returned she asked Jerry, “Would you scratch my back?”

She turned around; Jerry felt his knees were about to buckle, and he started scratching her back lightly, being careful to not catch a thread in her gown.

“More, Jerry,” Lois said as she unbuttoned her gown and let it drift to the floor. “Start scratching at my shoulders — and you don’t have to be as gentle — and work down a ways. That’s it. Stop there and scratch along my sides.” He did as asked. Lois reached up and took his hands, moving them to her breasts, curving his fingers and said, “Now scratch there at the base.”

Jerry thought he was going to lose his mind. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect this. Maybe I’m dreaming; but no, she’s too soft and warm for this to be a dream.

Lois took his hand again and led him to her bedroom, put her glasses on the bedside table and turned off the bed lamp after Jerry finished undressing. There they lay on their sides; Jerry held her closely and gently rubbed her back. I’ve waited a long time for this and finally found a man who seems to know what I like — maybe this girl won’t have to dream anymore — I love the tingly feeling. Oh, God, let this last.

Lois turned on her back. Jerry leaned down and kissed her. They kissed long and hard, their tongues intertwining. Lois reached up, put her hand on Jerry’s head and gently pushed him down. He nuzzled her breasts and slowly moved his hand down over and past her stomach.

“Now, Jerry, now,” she whispered ever so softly.

Lois didn’t have to ask Jerry to spend the night. They fell asleep lying side-by-side, arms wrapped around each other.

* * *

Jerry awakened in the morning to the feeling of fingers teasing his chest hair. He slowly opened his eyes to see Lois leaning on her hand, watching him and smiling.

“Good morning, Cowboy,” Lois said, still moving her fingers slowly over his chest.

“Cowboy?”

“Yeah — Cowboy. You sure know how to ride when you saddle up.” Lois leaned down and softly kissed him. “I’ll go for a ride on your ranch anytime you want.” She lay back down, reached up and twiddled with his hair.

Jerry turned on his side to face Lois. Wrapping their arms around each other, Lois snuggled up closely and asked Jerry to rub her back.

“You could do that all day, Jerry, and I wouldn’t mind. It feels sooooo good to lie close to you and have my back rubbed. Would you mind just doing this sometime when we’re together — assuming we do get together more often?”

“Lois, there is absolutely no way I could turn down a request like this! Any time. Just say the word, like — gimme a back rub and I want it now!!”

“I have another request.”

“And that is?” he asked as he continued to slowly rub her back.

“While I watched you sleep, I wondered if you would let me go with you when you shoot the wedding.”

“Yeah, that’s okay with me if it’s okay with the bride and groom. Why do you want to go with me?”

“Well — it’s not only to be with you, but I’m interested in photography. Would you believe in this day-and-age of easy-to-use cameras that I have never owned one? It really comes down to not having had the time. I was too busy getting an education.”

“I do need to talk with Card and find out who the mystery couple is because I have to talk with them about their plans. I’ll ask them if they mind if I have an assistant, a lady who is a friend of Card’s.”

“I wouldn’t really call Card a friend. It’s really more like we’re acquaintances.”

Jerry stretched and yawned, “Back to the subject, I really could use an assistant. Your main job will be to straighten out the bride’s gown for the formal altar photos and see that the bridesmaids are positioned correctly. Well, I’m not going to go through everything now; but later on, long before the wedding, I’ll talk you through the routine so you’ll have a basic understanding. I’ll be directing the whole time so there really isn’t anything to be concerned about.”

Lois suggested showering and then having breakfast. She told Jerry there was an unopened toothbrush in the medicine cabinet that he could use and keep in the toothbrush holder for future times. He said he liked the idea and that he should also buy another razor and keep it here. Lois thought that was an excellent idea.

“How do you like your eggs?” Lois asked as she opened the carton.

“I’m not fussy. Make ’em like you make yours. That keeps it simple,” he said as he pulled out a stool at the breakfast bar. “My friends back home call me ‘Barney Crocker’ because I’m not too shabby as a cook.”

“If that’s the case, Cowboy Barney, how ’bout rustlin’ up some fried potatoes to go with our scrambled eggs?” Lois asked, pointing with her foot to a lower cabinet, where the potatoes were stored.

The coffee finished percolating, Jerry filled their cups and Lois served breakfast.

Lois was quiet as she held her coffee cup. Jerry asked if there was anything wrong, “No, not wrong. But I’m curious about something and I don’t know how to approach the topic. I don’t want to say anything that will end our budding relationship.”

“I can’t think of anything you could say or ask that would put me off. If I’m not a good sex partner I can only offer to practice as often as possible”

Lois laughed, relieved that Jerry defused her moment of tension. “I am a student of speech, of syntax, of idiom. Your speech pattern is so disciplined, perhaps practiced. I’m curious, which isn’t necessarily bad, but there is a nagging suspicion that keeps poking into my mind. I’m sorry. It is just that nobody talks the way you do naturally.”

Jerry sat in silence for a minute, and the longer he was silent the greater Lois’s anxiety rose from bringing up the subject to start with. “I guess I didn’t realize I was so far from the norm.”

Lois started to protest, but Jerry signaled her off and smiled. “There are several things that have shaped my life. I was born during the depression and my early childhood was during the war. We weren’t impoverished, but there was little extra. Dad is a pragmatist, and his philosophy is that you earn what you need to live and live within your earnings. At a very early age I adopted an attitude of earning the things I wanted. Adopted is the accurate term. I made a conscious decision when I was perhaps eight or nine that I would conduct my life in a particular fashion. When I was in high school I wanted to go into broadcasting, so I worked on elocution. I always had straight A’s in English. The teachers always said I did everything with such precision. While I was in the Navy I had an evening jazz program on an Armed Forces Radio station. It was that period where I really worked on my speaking. I guess it is just second nature, now.

“While in the Navy I adopted a British accent. It was an affect and I adopted it because it fit in where I was stationed and I thought it was so cool. When I went to my first high school reunion I got beat up pretty bad over that and, in retrospect, rightly so. I dropped the accent quickly.

“Yes, I realize I speak more formally than most people. I think before I speak, I choose my words. That is just who I am. It isn’t an act.”

Lois came around and embraced Jerry. “It is really different knowing someone who actually has a life based on a structure, rather than accepting what comes along.”

Chapter Two

Jerry looked up at the kitchen clock. “It’s almost nine o’clock, Lois. I’ve gotta get going.”

“What’s the rush? You have the whole day ahead of you.”

“There are three rolls of film to be developed and prints to be made. I told Morris that I’d have contact sheets in his hands first thing Monday morning,” Jerry said as he pushed back from the breakfast bar.

“You haven’t told me where you live,” Lois yawned and took another sip of coffee.

“Oh — I’m in Westfield, just south of the Gulf gas station.”

“I know where that is. Are you in the old building that used to be a grocery store?”

“Yup. The front room is like a reception area, except I really don’t have anyone to receive. The center room I fixed up as a darkroom because it has running water and the space in the rear is my living quarters. It’s not real fancy — one room that has a hideaway couch that opens up into bed, which I usually leave open, a small kitchen area with a postage stamp-size table and a couple of chairs. Also, there’s a three-quarter bathroom. I have a place to hang my hat, but not much else!” Jerry took the pen and notebook he kept in his shirt pocket, tore out a page and wrote on it. “Here’s my phone number. If I’m in the darkroom I don’t answer, so if you do call just wait ten or fifteen minutes and try again.”

“Do you get a lot of calls?”

“Not really. Sometimes I pick up the receiver and check for a dial tone just to be sure the phone’s working.”

“Well then, if the phone rings when you’re in the darkroom, why don’t you call me to see if I was trying to reach you?” Lois yawned and stretched.

“If it’s in the daytime, should I call your number at the school?”

“Sure. The only time I would be calling is when I’m in my office. My hours alternate between the office and the classroom.”

“What do you teach?” Jerry sat back down on the breakfast bar stool.

“Oh, I guess we never got into that.” Lois took another sip of coffee. “I teach lip reading. Our school prepares children for the hearing world by having them read lips and not use sign language or finger spelling. Along with lip reading, we teach them elocution so they will be able to communicate more easily with hearing people.”

“I bet you’re a scream at a party when you read the guys’ lips and repeat their jokes to the ladies!”

“I did that once and it backfired — the girls didn’t like the idea of my reading their husband’s or boyfriend’s lips, so I keep my observations to myself. It’s kind of like you — keeping other people’s thoughts and secrets to yourself.” Lois yawned again. “By the way, Jer, what’s on your agenda for today besides developing film? Is it okay if I call you ‘Jer’?”

“Yeah, Jer’s okay. A lot of my friends call me that. — But back to my agenda: First is film developing and I’ll be done before noon.” Jerry poured a little coffee into his cup and took a sip. “I wrote to my parents last week and told them I’d call them today at noon. I’ve been gone for several months and I try to call every other week. Keeps Mom happy. After that I think I’ll find a bar and have a couple of beers. What’s on your schedule?”

Lois leaned over and brushed a piece of lint from Jerry’s collar. “I have some housecleaning to do this morning. This afternoon I’m playing golf with three of my girlfriends. Do you play?”

“Are you kidding? I played once a few years ago and discovered that I can throw the ball farther than I can hit it. So — in a word — no.”

Lois leaned into Jerry, brushed his nose with hers and said, “Why don’t you go to the Tree House for a beer when you’re finished at your pad? It opens at noon. I don’t know if Card is there or if someone else bartends. I have never gone in on a Saturday afternoon. If you’re a good boy and don’t drink too much,” Lois teased, “I’ll drop in after the golf game. We’re playing at the Westfield Country Club and it’s not far from the Tree House.”

“That sounds like a grand idea to me,” Jerry finished his coffee and slid off the stool. “I’ll look for you there. Let’s have dinner there and a dance or three.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Lois murmured in Jerry’s ear, holding him very close.

* * *

Two cars were in the Tree House parking lot when Jerry drove in. As he was opening the door to go in, a lady came out. He held the door for her and saw her head for one of the cars.

“Hi, Jerry,” a female voice called out.

His eyes adjusted to the dim light as he strolled toward the bar. “Oh hi, Ang. I’m surprised to see you here. I thought Card would be working.” Jerry sat on the barstool and swiveled around to rest his arms on the bar.

Angie leaned over the bar and whispered, “What would you like? Me?”

Jerry laughed. “Right now a Bud will do me.” He noticed she wasn’t wearing her rings.

Angie sighed, “A Bud it is. And I hope it tastes as good as I do.” She pulled a bottle from a cooler, opened the bottle and poured some in a glass,

Jerry took a small swallow. “I didn’t know you bartended, too.” He lit a cigarette and Angie reached under the bar and brought up an ashtray.

“Yeah, I open at noon and run the place ’til around four when Card comes in.”

Jerry bumped his glass and spilled some beer as he was reaching for the ashtray.

“Here, I’ll get that,” Angie grabbed a bar towel. “Are you klutzy today for any reason in particular?”

“No, it’s just me.” Jerry was curious, “It’s none of my business, Angie, but weren’t you wearing a wedding ring last night?”

She rubbed her finger and said, “I don’t always wear my rings — I really don’t feel all that ‘married’ — my husband spends most of his time at home drinking beer and watching TV. It’s like we live two separate lives. So there are times I don’t feel like wearing my rings. I like a good time and he sure doesn’t anymore. When we were first married things were what you could call normal, and then it went downhill.”

Changing the subject, Jerry asked, “Is it always this dead on a Saturday afternoon?”

“Not always. If it starts off slow like it did today, then it usually stays slow to dead. If it starts off being busy, then it almost always stays steady. There’s no way to really know. I think the nice weather is keeping people away. I know a lot of the guys are out golfing.”

Jerry tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray. “Lois is golfing today with her girlfriends. She said she would be in after the game and told me not to get sloshed before she gets here.”

Angie walked around from behind the bar and pulled up a stool next to Jerry. “You’re going to keep me company this afternoon?”

“Well, yes, if you don’t mind.”

“That’s fantastic!” Angie exclaimed, raising her arms in the air. “Hallelujah, I don’t have to sit around in complete boredom!”

“You did have some company — a customer — before I came in,” Jerry said, rubbing his ear.

“Oh her — she’s one of my childhood friends. She just stopped in to have a soda and quick visit on her way to work. She’s a nurse and works in the emergency room at one of the Springfield hospitals.”

Jerry poured more beer into his glass. “That sounds interesting. I bet she sees some really strange things.”

Angie leaned toward Jerry as if she didn’t want anyone else to hear her, even though the lounge was empty. “She told me about something that happened a few nights ago when she was working the late shift. It seems there was this guy who had been drinking at a bar in Agawam. The bartender must have slipped him a mickey, because the next thing the guy knew is that he woke up in his car on a back road near Russell. As soon as his head cleared enough he headed back to Springfield, where he lives. As he went along he felt a pain in his ass and it got worse the farther he drove. Well, the pain got so bad that he went to the emergency room where my friend works and he was examined immediately. You’ll never guess what happened!” Angie paused to drink some water. “The doctor removed a cucumber from the guy’s rectum! The doctor then noticed that the cucumber had been sliced open part way and he checked to see why. Well, inside the cucumber was a note: ‘Next time it will be a watermelon.’ Can you imagine? Anyway, the guy told the doc that he was behind in his vigorish to The Boys and that’s probably why the mickey and cucumber.”

Jerry felt his skin crawl and butt tighten at the image of Angie’s story. “Why would The Boys do something like that? Why don’t they just ask for the money?”

“Dear, The Boys had already asked. That’s why they did it.”

Jerry shuddered. “Man, that is so cruel,”

“Jerry, apparently you know nothing about The Boys.”

“No, I don’t.”

Angie shifted her position on the barstool. “They are not nice to their victims — their ‘customers’ — as they call them. What they do here is mild compared to what they do in Boston, Providence or New York City. Benny won’t allow his men to kill anyone — they can only mess ’em up — like the cucumber, a baseball bat across the knees, broken fingers — just to name a few.”

“Yeah, I guess I have a lot to learn,” Jerry took another small swallow of beer.

Angie excused herself and went into the backroom and reappeared carrying a box. She set the box on the bar and took out cocktail and table setting napkins, straws, swizzle sticks and a roll of paper for the cash register. She commented, “I took inventory when I got here today and found a lot of things that need to be restocked. Card can be so lazy sometimes and not do the little things. I think he knows that I’ll take care of ’em if he doesn’t. I must say that he is smart: the first time you do something and he notices it, he’ll let you do it forever. — Not to change the subject, but I guess I am, did you and Lois finally get something to eat last night?”

Jerry shifted in the stool, drank a little beer and said, “No. As it turned out, we weren’t really all that hungry.”

“Oh? What did you do then?” Angie asked, leaning way over the bar, showing her natural endowment.

Why should Angie care what Lois and I did? “Not a whole heck of a lot. We drank a little wine, listened to some music and talked a lot. I would call it a quiet evening that both of us really needed.”

“That doesn’t sound too exciting to me. I don’t know Lois all that well, but she strikes me as being an intellectual who doesn’t really know how to cut loose and have a good time. There are people like that, you know,” Angie walked around the bar and pulled her stool closer to Jerry.

Yeah. If only you knew and you never will. “She’s a very smart girl, Angie, and I really enjoyed being with her. She’s different — very different — from any other woman I have ever dated.” Jerry’s beer was almost gone.

“’Nother one, Jerry?” Angie whispered in his ear.

“Sure. Why not?” He reached for his cigarettes and before he could open the lighter Angie whipped out her lighter. Jerry leaned into the flame and took the light.

“Here’s your beer, sir. This one’s on me.” Angie returned to the stool next to Jerry, but not until she moved it a little closer to him.

Jerry grinned and said, “Get that stool much closer and you’ll be on my lap.”

Angie pushed the stool back, jumped onto Jerry’s lap and put her arms around his neck. “This is more like it. What a way to pass a quiet afternoon!”

“I was just kidding!” Jerry unwrapped Angie’s arms from his neck and helped her off his lap.

“Damn. I was hoping we could fool around for a while. — Maybe some other time?”

Jerry laughed nervously, “I don’t think so, Ang. It’s not that I don’t find you very attractive, which you are — married women just don’t hold a future with me.

Angie turned her barstool and leaned her arm against the bar. “Okay, I see what you’re saying, but what difference does it make to you if it doesn’t to me?”

“A buddy of mine in the Navy was fooling around with a married gal and ended up shot in the nuts. So, the offer is nice, but no thanks.” Jerry decided it was time to change the subject. “Ang, are you and Card related?”

“We are in a distant way. I think we’re second cousins. The way the Italian families are in this area, I think we’re all related in some way. It doesn’t really make any difference though. Everyone does their own thing, but if someone from outside the families does anything bad to any of us women, The Boys treat us like we are one of their own families. In other words, it’s a very bad idea to even think of doing any harm to an Italian woman.” She sighed, got up and went behind the bar to get Jerry another beer and added water and ice to her glass at the same time. “But I wouldn’t complain if you thought about doing something.”

Jerry let the last comment pass. “Wow! I didn’t realize that the families would be that close-knit.”

Ang sat down next to Jerry and continued. “Yeah, there is a closeness and at the same time The Boys have some warped ideas.”

“Like what?” Jerry was very inquisitive. He was hanging on every word Angie said, to the extent that he took out a cigarette and forgot to light it.

Angie sipped her water and then brushed some hair away from her face. “Well, The Boys hope they have a son who becomes a priest or a daughter that becomes a nun. If that happens, they believe they’re guaranteed a place in Heaven. Isn’t that bizarre? I find it hard to understand why they think it’s okay for them to ruin people’s lives and at the same time think that they’re guaranteed a place in Eternity.”

Jerry shook his head in disbelief. “They really think that?”

“Yeah, they talk about it. Oh — and here’s one more. Every Christmas they give ten thousand dollars to the nuns at the convent in Holyoke. They think that gives them the same guarantee.”

Jerry shifted in his barstool. “Is the convent high on a hill, just south of Holyoke on the west side of route five?”

“That’s the place.”

“Don’t the nuns know how the money is ill-gotten — doesn’t it bother them at all?” Jerry felt a bit irritated with the idea.

“Naw, they don’t care, even if they do know. The truth of the matter is that they need money and will take whatever they’re given.” Angie stretched and yawned long and hard, coincidentally thrusting her breasts toward Jerry.

Jerry looked up at the clock: four fifteen. The door opened and as footsteps came closer, he heard a familiar voice. “Hey, Cowboy, I see you didn’t drink yourself under the bar!” Lois said and got on a barstool by Jerry.

“I limited him to three beers,” Angie interjected as she reached for a glass to make Lois a drink. “Your usual, Lois? And what’s this ‘Cowboy’ stuff, anyway? You know, that can conjure up some pretty wild thoughts!”

“My usual, please. Cowboy? Oh — uh — I — well, Jerry’s from the West and they have cowboys there, so I — uh — just thought of teasingly calling him ‘Cowboy.’” Lois wasn’t sure, but she thought she may be blushing.

Jerry came to the rescue. “Minnesota isn’t exactly the West, but it’s very close to it. When I was growing up I spent a lot of summers on my aunt and uncle’s farm and I really was a cowboy. About five in the morning I’d put a bridle on the horse and go after the cows in the pasture and get them headed toward the barn. Once they were in the barnyard I’d get off the horse, open the barn door and they’d go to the stanchions, where I’d latch them in and they waited to be milked. After milking I’d let them out of the barn and then I went in the house for breakfast. If they were still in the barnyard after breakfast, I’d get back on the horse and drive the cows back to the pasture.”

Lois looked at him in awe. “You didn’t tell me about your farm experiences last night.”

Ah, Lois, you don’t know it, but you just said the right thing. Jerry got out cigarettes for Lois and himself, lit them, handed one to her and moved the ashtray between their glasses. “A few hours of chat wasn’t enough time to cover everything.”

Angie asked, “Don’t you two do anything but talk?”

Lois was quick to respond, “Angie, we just met last night! It takes time for people to get to know each other.” If you only knew, Angie. — WOW, if you only knew!

The door opened again. Card came in and greeted the three of them. “How was business today, Angie?” he asked as he opened the cash register.

“Terrible. If Jerry here hadn’t come in for a couple of beers, this afternoon would’ve been a total bust. Card, now that you’re here I’m gonna run home and change into my cocktail waitress outfit. I’ll be back by five.” She quickly disappeared through the front door.

Card started doing a casual inventory of liquor bottle levels on the back bar. “How are you kids?”

“I’m fine,” Jerry smiled broadly.

“I’m doing great!” Lois said and winked at Jerry.

“Do you guys mind being alone for a few minutes? I have to go downstairs to check on some things. If anyone comes in, go around the bar and holler for me. I’ll leave the door open a crack.”

“I think we’ll be okay with that. Our drinks aren’t even half gone.”

Card walked to the other side of the bar and around the corner. His keys jingled as he unlocked the door.

Jerry turned his attention to Lois. “How was your golf game?”

“I can’t believe it. I played my best game ever.” Lois snuggled into Jerry as best she could while sitting on a barstool. “I thought after riding the range last night I wouldn’t play as well as I usually do. I was wrong, though, I played better.” She kissed Jerry’s cheek and whispered, “Thanks, Cowboy.”

“You’re welcome, my dear.”

Lois sat back in her stool and Jerry took a short drink of beer. “That’s a really cool golf visor. Do you always wear it when you golf or just when it’s sunny?”

Lois wiggled the long bill back and forth. “I always wear it, regardless of weather. I call it my ‘lucky visor’ because I always play well when I wear it.”

“Sounds like a superstition to me,” Jerry replied, pouring more beer into his glass.

“How did your day go? Did you call your parents?” Lois looked down and checked her blouse to see if all buttons were still buttoned.

“Yup. I think they were waiting by the phone. We had a nice, long visit. I told them I was staying on a little longer to photograph a wedding. I didn’t give them any details because I didn’t want them to become concerned.” Jerry scratched the top of his head. “They want me to fly home next weekend for a visit. I told them I’ll try to get out early enough on Friday afternoon so we can have supper together.”

Card returned and asked if anyone had come in. Jerry and Lois said no and he busied himself with bar preparations.

“Are you going to leave your panel truck at Bradley Field the whole weekend?. I’d worry about it getting stolen or damaged, if it were mine. — Say, I have an idea. Why don’t you leave it in my garage — the other side is empty — and I’ll take you to the airport. We don’t have classes this Friday afternoon and I have it off. That would be perfect and then I could pick you up, that is if you return on Sunday.”

“That’s my plan. I’ll stop at the travel agency Monday morning and make all the flight arrangements. Being this early, I doubt if there’ll be any problem.” Jerry leaned back and stretched. Lois took advantage of the situation by lightly poking him in the stomach. He immediately sat up and laughed. “Aha! You just declared ‘tickle war’ and you’ll never know when the attack will come,” and quickly reached over with one hand and tickled her ribs. “Tag, you’re ‘it’,” Jerry declared.

Lois abruptly excused herself and hurried to the ladies room. When she returned, she said, “Sorry I had to leave so suddenly. It had nothing to do with the tickle, which was fun, by the way. How can I put it — I know — we won’t be riding the range for a few days, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I get the picture. Well, that just gives us something to look forward to when I get back.”

Lois took Jerry’s arm in her hands and laid her head on his shoulder. “Yes, and what a nice homecoming that will be,”

The door opened and four men walked in and went to the opposite side of the bar.

Lois said in a low voice to Jerry, “Those are some of The Boys who come in and talk with Card.”

The words were no sooner spoken when Card went over to them and leaned against the bar. They seemed to be getting in a deep discussion, so it was a good thing that Jerry and Lois didn’t need another drink.

Jerry noticed Lois looking at the men and adjusting her visor down a little. “What’s going on, Lois?”

Lois motioned with her hand telling Jerry to be quiet. She continued to look at the men. After a few minutes she said, “Jerry, The Boys are talking with Card about storing some merchandise here that they’ll be receiving soon. I couldn’t tell where it’s coming from because the guy saying it has a cigar and he stopped to smoke it, and then the smoke covered his mouth when he said where. That cigar is so huge that it looks like a big turd in his mouth.”

Jerry was astonished. “How do you know what they’re saying?”

“Uh, Jerry, remember I teach lip reading?”

“I know that, but they’re way over there and it’s not very light in here.”

Lois turned to him, “Didn’t you see me bring the visor down?”

“Yes, but I still don’t understand.”

“I had to shield my eyes from the lights near us so I could see their lips.”

“Of course, it’s like putting a lens shade on a camera to keep the sun from hitting the lens when shooting towards the sun. Same principle.” Jerry picked up a cigarette and lit it.

“Exactly. Now quit talking so I can see what they’re saying.”

As Lois watched, Jerry thought, this is different.

“The rest seems to be idle talk. I’m ready for dinner and a little dancing after, Jerry. How ’bout you?” Lois asked, leaning up against him and showing puppy eyes.

“I think it’s time,” Jerry said and softly kissed her.

Jerry and Lois enjoyed a dinner of shrimp salads and fresh flounder. That was topped off with dancing to the music on the jukebox.

“‘Misty’ is probably my favorite song,” Lois whispered in Jerry’s ear. “I love this version by Johnny Mathis. I could dance to this all night.” She was already dancing so close to Jerry that it would be impossible to fit a hair between them.

“Want me to put another nickel in the jukebox?” Jerry asked when the song ended.

“No,” Lois said, moving back from the table, “let’s go to my house for the evening and just sit and talk. I have more wine and if you wouldn’t mind giving me a backrub, skin-on-skin that is, I know I’d enjoy it, even though that’s all we can do.”

For Jerry, it was a perfect, relaxing evening.

* * *

The Boeing 727 roared down the runway at Bradley Field and lifted off as Jerry scanned the area through the window seat on his right. He saw who he thought looked like Lois waving a green scarf.

It could be her. She did have a green scarf hanging from the rearview mirror of her car. I know it’s her. The black skirt and white blouse are a give-away, too.

It’s kind of weird, but we’ve only known each other one week and I feel strange leaving her. I have never known anyone like her before — she is so spontaneous, so — okay — love-starved, but she loves life. She loves what she does. And I think she loves me, even after only one week. This is really hard for me to comprehend. I just find it hard to believe how well we hit it off — how we get along — how we complement each other. It seems like too much so suddenly. Yet, I feel like I love her. Yeah, I know, love at first sight and all that crap. But I know that many others have had this happen to them, too. Can it be? Does Lois feel the same about me? Who am I kidding; it’s quite obvious she does. Should I tell my folks about her? I know they’ll care. Mom’s been bugging me for years to “settle down with a nice girl.”

* * *

Jerry’s dad met the airplane and they drove the short distance home.

Jerry’s mom greeted him as he walked in the door. “I made your favorite hamburger and elbow macaroni hotdish for dinner!”

“Mom, you are just too good to me,” he said with a smile that showed he was ready for her home cooking.

While they ate, Jerry told them about his recent experiences and that he had met a girl.

“That is so good to know, Jerry,” his mother said, patting his hand. “I was starting to worry that you’d never meet one. You are always so busy. — Goodness, you need time to have a life of your own.”

“Yeah, she’s really nice and we get along fabulously.”

“The only problem I see, Jerry,” his dad said, stopping short of putting a fork-full of food in his mouth, “is that you’re only going to be there for only a couple more weeks. What are you going to do, bring Lois home with you?”

Jerry rubbed his ear, “I’ve thought about it, but I don’t have an answer. I just don’t know.”

“Well, you think about it while you relax this weekend and have more of my cooking,” his mother said as she got up to cut the pie for dessert. “By the way, Jerry, doesn’t it kind of scare you about doing some work for these boys, as you call them?”

“Not really. You know me: ears open, mouth closed.”

“Yes,” his mother sighed, “dynamite couldn’t get you to talk.”

* * *

Jerry awoke to the odor of eggs frying. He wasted little time while he showered, shaved and dressed.

In the kitchen Jerry’s mom was stacking pancakes on a platter. “I hope you’re hungry for eggs and pancakes. I bought a jar of honey for your ’cakes. It seems like you always eat more when you have honey on them. You are so skinny, Jerry. We just have to get more meat on your bones!”

Jerry’s dad came to the table and they talked over breakfast.

“Any plans for today or this weekend?” his dad asked.

“Not really. I’m thinking of going over to the Deep Rock station to see Jake, if you let me borrow the car. I might get up with Al Jensen tonight and go out to the Whitehouse.”

“Sure. Go ahead. You know where the keys are. Mother and I are staying put today, so if there’s anything else you want to do, just let us know.” He reached over to the platter and took two pancakes.

Jerry returned home just before noon.

“Perfect timing, Jerry,” his mom said. “I just started heating the frying pan for our hamburgers. Dad’s in the den. He wants you to go in and talk a while.”

“What’s up, Dad?” Jerry pulled up a chair next to the desk where his dad was shuffling some papers.

“Jerry, I called a friend of mine who is interested in talking with you,” he said, stapling the papers together.

“Who is this friend?”

“Not to be evasive, I would just as soon wait until he arrives, which should be soon after we have lunch.”

Shortly after lunch, Jerry heard a car park in the street alongside their house. It was a new Ford four-door, solid blue and rather plain looking.

Jerry’s dad did the introductions. “Jerry, this is Bob Olson; Bob, Jerry. Bob is the head of the FBI office in Minneapolis and we’ve had a number of dealings, so I called him while you were out and told him a little bit of what you told us last night.”

Jerry and Bob shook hands and then Bob asked, “Is there somewhere we can speak privately?”

Jerry’s dad said, “Sit anywhere you like. Mother and I,” (he always called her ‘Mother’), “are going over to Minnehaha Falls and walk along the creek. We’ll probably be gone for at least two hours.”

Bob settled into one of the sofas, taking out a pen and opening a clipboard, and Jerry sat in the easy chair across from Bob.

“Your dad told me that you’re on the edge of an interesting experience out East.”

“That’s right,” Jerry started rubbing his ear. “It’s just a one-time deal to photograph a Mafia wedding.”

Bob glanced up from his pad and made eye contact with Jerry. “I want to hear everything — and don’t leave out a single detail, no matter how trivial you may think it is.”

Jerry explained in great detail about everything he saw and heard and what Lois lip-read. Bob asked him to stop occasionally while he made additional notes.

“Jerry, you certainly have fallen into a treasure. I call it a treasure because of its value to the Bureau. I’m going to my office right now and call my counterpart in Springfield. — Will you be home for the afternoon? I’m sure I’ll be coming back to talk with you some more,” Bob said, closing his clipboard folder. “If I’m not coming back, I’ll call and let you know.”

“I have no plans until this evening.” Jerry answered and stretched his arms over his head.

Jerry’s parents returned soon after Bob left.

“Jerry, you have to see this,” his dad said, walking in and holding up an object.

“What is it?” Jerry walked farther into the kitchen to see the treasure.

“Oh, this is a real dandy. Look at this perfect fossil.”

Years ago, Jerry and his parents would walk along the paths by Minnehaha Creek, between Minnehaha Falls and the Mississippi River. The limestone outcroppings were loaded with fossils and very seldom did they go home empty-handed. Eons of prehistoric animal life were locked into the limestone.

“Wow! That is a perfect shell. It looks just like the sign on the Shell Oil stations. I think this is the biggest and best yet for your collection.”

“How did your talk with Bob go?” Jerry’s mother asked as she straightened out the kitchen tablecloth.

“To say that he listened to every word I said would be an understatement,”

“He’s a fine man,” Jerry’s dad added. “Did you notice the shoulder holster and gun under his suit coat?”

“Nope. You know, I think it’s time for the FBI to be current and let the agents dress casually to blend in with everyone else. I think Hoover exercises way too much control. It’s like an idea or plan is no good unless it’s his idea or plan. Maybe he’ll move up to the ’sixties one of these days instead of living in the ’forties.”

“A lot of people think that, too,” Jerry’s dad replied. “By the way, what’s the next step with Bob, if there is a next step?”

They went into the living room, sat down and Jerry answered, “He went to his office to call the agent in Springfield. I have no idea what he’s thinking, but he said he’d return later. If he isn’t coming back, he said he’ll call.”

Bob returned shortly after four o’clock.

“Do you want Mother and me to leave for a while?” Jerry’s dad asked, getting up from the easy chair.

“Yes, I hate to impose. It is purely a matter of protocol and policy. I hope you understand. If you don’t mind, perhaps there is an upstairs bedroom?”

Jerry and Bob went to Jerry’s bedroom on the second floor. Bob sat at the small desk and Jerry sat on the edge of his bed.

“I was able to connect with Mark Stevens, our agent in Springfield. I related our conversation. Mark was astounded with your report. He said it sounds like a perfect opportunity and situation to gather information for the Bureau.” Bob paused for several seconds and then said, “To summarize, Jerry, we would like you to be our civilian operative and spy on The Boys. We also would ask you to stay there longer, perhaps up to two years. I can’t say why or what, only that we have an ongoing investigation that could take that long. If you agree, Mark will see you in your studio sometime next week.”

“Two years? I guess I will have to figure a way to support myself. The job I have right now is just about wrapped up. As long as I can keep the rent paid I will stay on.”

“We have one more item to discuss,” Bob said, looking at his clipboard. “Mark is concerned about your girlfriend Lois. Because of the lip-reading skills, she is the ideal one to have as a sidekick, but she may become suspicious or wonder why you want to know what she’s seeing.”

“I think I have that covered, Bob,” Jerry said, leaning forward in his chair, resting his arms on his knees. “I gave that very subject some thought while you were at your office and the potential cause-and-effect of the situation. She is a very smart girl and I would do nothing to jeopardize her life or career. I don’t want her to know a thing that’s happening. My thought is to have her tell me what she sees; that I want to write it down in a journal in my studio with the idea of maybe writing a book about it someday. I’m sure she’ll accept that idea.”

“Jerry,” Bob concluded, closing his clipboard folder and standing up, “I knew from the moment I met you that you were a special kind of guy — one that we can trust to do the job. It’s been a real pleasure meeting you. There won’t be any way of my knowing what you are involved with, directly, but we do get updates on what is happening around the country, so I might catch some of your results. Good luck. Thanks for coming on board.”

The pair walked downstairs and Bob said good by to the family with no indication of a deal being struck.

After Bob left Jerry’s mother asked him what the situation was. She was skeptical about Jerry’s non-committal response.

“Mom, I’m staying on in Springfield so I can be with Lois,”

Jerry’s dad, always the eclectic, pragmatic man didn’t need to have anything spelled out for him. He was the one who thought of calling the FBI. He was also knew Jerry’s deep sense of duty, justice, and patriotism. Jerry’s unabashed attitudes almost seemed a caricature, but Jerry’s dad appreciated his son’s sincerity. “I remember when you joined the Navy. I didn’t like it, but I knew you felt strongly about our country and that you wanted to do your part in its defense. I know that you feel the same way about whatever this is. As much as I don’t want to see you in harm’s way, I know you’ll do a good job and you have my support.”

“Thanks, Dad. Don’t speculate. Mom, if anyone at church asks, just say I have a girlfriend out east. I probably won’t be able to get back home as often as I’d like, but we’ll see what happens as time passes.”

Chapter Three

Lois was at Bradley Field Sunday afternoon to welcome Jerry when he got off the plane. “Oh, honey, I missed you so much,” Lois hugged him so tightly Jerry thought he’d lose his breath.

Jerry returned the firm embrace. “Lois, I missed you, too, and I’m so happy to be holding you again,”

During the drive up Interstate Highway 91 Lois told Jerry about her weekend. “I felt so lost and alone without you last night that I went to the Tree House and sat by Angie, even though I had said earlier that I would only go in with you.” Lois paused to lean toward the rearview mirror and brush some hair away from her eyes. “I’ve gotta tell you what I saw.”

“Go ahead,” Jerry said, turning toward Lois and putting his arm over the seat. “You have my complete attention.”

Lois checked her speedometer, “Well, Benny the Beak and some of The Boys came in and sat in their usual places by the back wall and, of course, Card went over and leaned against the bar and stood sideways. That was enough so I could see what he was saying. Anyway, one of The Boys told Card that they are ready to move some goods from the lounge to a dealer in New Haven and that they wanted to pick it up today. Card said that was not a problem. The man also said that they need a patsy to do some future transfers. One of the others said, ‘How ’bout that freaky-looking guy who sits with that broad on the other side of the bar? Hey, Card, where is he? I hope he didn’t fly the coop.’ And Card said, ‘No, because I asked Lois where Jerry was when she came in and she told me he flew home to Minneapolis for the weekend to see his parents.’”

“Do I look that freaky?” Jerry questioned.

“Honey, what do they know? You don’t look freaky. A person’s appearance isn’t what counts, it’s what’s inside, and, sweetie, you have everything inside,” Lois reached over and squeezed Jerry’s knee.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. He’s got a nice personality. I know what you really mean.”

“Honestly Jerry! Let me continue. Another guy asked Card if you could be trusted, and Card said that he felt you could be and he also said that you were cool and seemed to like and trust him. Benny said, ‘Card, we trust you totally and if you are comfortable with Jerry, then what you say goes.’ Card said that he really believed that you could be completely trusted.”

The gods are with me! It’s like falling into a pile of manure and coming out smelling like a rose! Oh, Lois, if you only knew.

Lois checked her mirrors and glanced out the side windows before she changed lanes to pass a truck. “Does this bother you, Jerry? Maybe you don’t want to hear about any of this anymore,”

“It doesn’t bother me at all, Hon. As a matter of fact, I like hearing about it. I was just thinking that I could write what you tell me in a journal in my studio and perhaps write a book about it someday.”

“Oooooooooo, that sounds so exciting! I’ll keep my eyes open!”

Jerry took out two cigarettes, lit them and gave one to Lois. “Speaking of keeping your eyes open, you may not always want to look directly at them. I don’t want them to be suspicious of what you’re doing.”

“I’m ahead of you on that, lover boy. I thought about that, too. Last night I did most of my reading with my head turned enough so I could still see them out of the corners of my eyes. I think I’m pretty safe doing it that way.”

The next thing Jerry knew they were pulling into Lois’s driveway. She parked in the garage and when they were out Lois grabbed Jerry’s hand and hurried to the house with him in tow. He had his one piece of luggage in the other hand.

“Find a spot in the living room while I get out the wine and glasses,” Lois ordered.

“Ahhhh, this is more like it,” Jerry said as he filled the glasses. “It’s so nice to be back with you. Lois, I really missed you a lot and I hate to even think that it’ll be ending soon. I’ll be history after photographing the wedding.”

“Jerry, dear,” Lois said after sipping her wine, “I’ve been thinking about it, too. I think that’s why I felt so alone while you were gone. I’ve never felt this way before. I must admit that I had selfish thoughts. I even had fantasy thoughts sometimes.”

Jerry reached over and lightly massaged Lois’s neck. “Go ahead; tell me your selfish thoughts. Save the fantasies for later.”

“Oh, Jerry, I know you won’t like what I have to say, but I’m going to say it. — Why don’t you stay here and open a studio? I know you can get work taking pictures after you do The Boys’ wedding.”

“This is uncanny!” Jerry exclaimed.

“What is?”

“I was thinking the same thing! I can’t believe that we were thinking the same thing and, who knows, maybe at the same time yesterday afternoon!”

“That’s when I was thinking about it,” Lois said and up-ended her glass, not even realizing that there was quite a bit still in it. She choked a little and then coughed.

“Are you okay? That was a pretty hefty amount you consumed,” Jerry drained his glass to stay even. “I hope we don’t get tipsy from drinking too fast,” he laughed.

“Honey, if we do, I don’t care. It’s just us in here and I have no intentions of our going anywhere else tonight, Cowboy.”

“Hey, that meets with my approval. I certainly won’t object to a long evening with the one who puts my pulse into passing gear.”

Lois scooted closer and looked up at Jerry. “Would you like something to eat and then after dinner and another glass of wine or two we can start off in low gear?”

Two glasses of wine followed dinner. Lois snuggled close to Jerry and said, “I can’t believe how relaxed I am. I must have been more stressed than I thought because I’m really feeling loosened up — almost tired.” She stifled a yawn and said, “Let’s get naked. I could really use a long backrub. And after that, as you might say in your darkroom, we’ll see what develops.”

It seemed to Jerry that it only took moments to get ready. Lois laid face down on her pillow with her hands crossed under her forehead.

“Ready?” Jerry asked quietly.

“Yes, let the rub begin,” Lois murmured.

Jerry straddled her legs, leaned forward a little and with his fingertips gently, but with light pressure massaged her temples. He moved to the sides of her head and around her ears continuing the motion, being careful to not pull her hair. On to her neck with a gentle, squeezing action. He massaged her shoulders with a little more firmness. Kneading with his fingertips, Jerry worked her shoulder blades and down her back to her hips. With his thumb and forefinger, he moved up and down her spine and then returned to kneading her back. After a few minutes he slowly rubbed her back with his hands open. He detected a soft, rhythmic breathing pattern.

He stopped, sat back on his heels and very quietly asked, “Lois, are you awake?”

There was no response. Being careful to not disturb her, Jerry moved over to his side of the bed. He lifted the covers up over them and lay there listening to her quiet breathing. It wasn’t long until he fell asleep.

* * *

The clock radio went off at six the next morning. Lois sat up and rubbed her eyes. Jerry thought, Sweetie, you look wonderful first thing in the morning. So what if you have some bed-head, you are one beautiful woman.

Lois yawned long and deep while stretching. “Jerry, I’ll shower first and when you hear the water stop, come in and take your shower. I should be finished and out of the way by the time you’re done.”

Pushing the covers aside, Jerry said, “Sounds good to me. I know if we showered together now, we’d never get to our jobs on time.”

Lois leaned over, tousled his hair and kissed the tip of his nose, “Yeah, but wouldn’t it be fun.” She stood up and said, “We’ll save that for some Saturday or Sunday morning — soon.”

Over breakfast Lois said, “Hon, I’m a little confused. Last night you said you’d be history after photographing the wedding and then a few minutes later you said you were thinking of staying here and opening a studio. Now can you understand why I’m confused?”

Jerry rubbed his ear, “I’m sorry, Lois, but I guess I’m a little confused, too. Yes, my contract is over soon, but do you think I can really make enough money in a studio in Westfield? I don’t know anybody there and it takes a long time to develop contacts for portrait and wedding business, and I really don’t want to do them anyway. The clincher for me to stay here is to be with you. I told my mom about you and she is looking forward to meeting you — my dad, too.”

Lois jumped off her breakfast bar stool and threw her arms around Jerry. She was crying tears of joy. “Oh, Jerry, I’m so happy to hear you say that you want to be with me. I — I — I really don’t know what to say other than I love you and I always want to be with you.”

Jerry gently brushed away her tears with his finger, “Lois, honey, I love you, too, and I can’t think of anything other than being with you forever.”

During breakfast they made plans to meet at the Tree House after work. Lois headed off to school and Jerry drove to the Continental Bicycle plant in Westfield.

When he entered the plant office, the receptionist said Morris wanted to see him right away.

Jerry entered Morris’s office. “What’s up, Morris?”

“Have a chair, Jerry. Want a cup of coffee?” Morris walked over to the coffee pot on a table behind his desk.

“Sure. I only had one cup with breakfast.” Jerry reached over the desk and took the cup from Morris.

“Jerry, as you are well aware, the job — your contract — is just about finished. In all reality, it is finished. Your last set of ’chromes and black and white enlargements are perfect. Absolutely perfect! So, you won’t have any reshooting to do. The company president and the ad agency president said the photos are the best they’ve seen for a long time.” Morris stopped to stir his coffee and then drink some. “All of us involved with this project talked about it over dinner Saturday night. — By the way, how was your trip home?”

Jerry crossed his legs. “The trip was great. Really more than I expected. My mom is a super cook and I really enjoyed her home-cooking again. Anyway, what about the talk you fellows had Saturday night?”

Morris leaned forward, resting his crossed forearms on his desk. “Sales continue to grow because of the advertising campaign, and I must say your photos are the key. People are taking more of an interest in bicycling and that’s good for us. So getting down to the point, we’d like to have you stay longer and be available for taking more photos at different times of the year. The only thing is that we can’t offer you a contract and we understand that you have to do what’s right for you and your income needs.”

Jerry stood up, walked over to Morris’s desk, sat on the edge and said, “Morris, you aren’t going to believe this but I’m seriously thinking about staying on and if you’ll have jobs for me now and then, it will help make my decision.”

“Jerry, this is unbelievable!” Morris stood up and shook Jerry’s hand vigorously. “For sure are you staying?”

Jerry couldn’t contain his grin. “Yup, Lois and I just talked about it and I think all the pieces of the puzzle are falling in place.”

“Thanks, Jerry! I’ve gotta go and tell the president. He’s going to be floored! — As long as you’re finished with everything, what are you going to do today?” Morris stopped short of going out the door.

Jerry scratched the top of his head and said, “Well, I guess I better start cleaning up the front room of my building. It’s large enough to take portraits and full-lengths of individuals and small groups. Later on I’m meeting Lois at the Tree House for a drink and maybe dinner.”

“That’s great, Jerry!” Morris exclaimed, still feeling exuberant. “Would you mind terribly if Shirley and I join you and Lois for a drink?”

“Not at all. I think that sounds like a good idea and I know Lois won’t mind either.”

They were interrupted by the phone ringing. Morris answered. “Jerry, it’s for you.”

“Thanks, Morris.” Jerry sat down at the desk and took the phone. Morris waved, left his office and closed the door.

“Hello, this is Jerry Hartwick.”

“Hello, Jerry. This is Mark Stevens.”

“Hi, Mark. I didn’t expect to hear from you this soon.” Jerry looked out the glass windows of Morris’s office as if to see if anyone was looking in. “I thought it would be later this week or sometime next week.”

“I decided to change my schedule so I can see you sooner. Do you have time today?”

Jerry said he did and if Mark wanted to see him this morning; he only has to show up at Jerry’s place in Westfield. Jerry gave directions and said he’d unlock the front door. Or if Mark preferred, there is a back entrance with a small parking lot that is reached by going through an alley. Mark said he’d knock on the back door in about an hour.

Wow, a lot has happened in a short time span. I hope my head can keep up with everything. I know I can handle it. It’s just that everything is so new — so different. Just keep your head screwed on straight, Jerry.

Jerry hurried over to his building and attempted to clean his living area so it would be presentable. He didn’t want Mark to think he lived like a slob. Now that I think about it, I really need to give this place a thorough going-over. One of these days Lois will stop in and I don’t want her to get the impression that I live in a pig sty, especially considering that her house is so clean and neat. It’s not that I’ve avoided cleaning the place, I haven’t had enough time.

Jerry’s thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the back door. He opened it and greeted the man standing there, “Come on in.”

The man, who appeared to be in his mid-thirties, over six feet tall, reddish hair and wearing a business suit, said, “You must be Jerry. I’m Mark Stevens.” He reached into his inner suit-coat pocket and produced a leather wallet, showing his photo and FBI identification.

“Yes, I’m Jerry.” He made a short sweeping motion with his arm and hand, “Welcome to my humble abode, Mark. I’ve been looking forward to this meeting. Come on — sit down here.” Jerry pulled a chair out from the small kitchen table for Mark.

Mark took a notebook and pen from his shirt pocket. “I parked about a block away and walked down the alley. The Boys know my car, so I’m taking every precaution to keep enough distance between your place of business and me so nothing is compromised and your cover is kept secret. This means that this is the only time I’ll come here. We can’t afford to take even one slight chance.”

Jerry felt a chill go down his spine. It’s now or never. It’s real. He’s here. I’m here. Do I do it or should I back out? — I’m not a quitter, I’ll do it.

Mark held his pen at the ready. “Jerry, tell me of any marks, scars or tattoos you have. Also, who has your dental records?”

Jerry answered the questions and said he has no tattoos. “Why do you need this information, Mark?”

Matter-of-factly Mark answered, “In case The Boys find you out and you end up wearing concrete boots at the bottom of the Connecticut River we’ll need to identify you — that is, if you are found. I realize this is a hardcore answer, but we have to look at the seriousness of what you’ll be doing and the possible consequences of a screw-up on your part. — Are you still in?”

“You bet I am, Mark, and I’m proud to help you in any way you ask,” Jerry said and gave a quick salute.

“Okay then, let’s begin,” Mark said and turned a page back in his notebook.

For almost an hour Mark asked questions, frequently making notes, and asked Jerry to go into more detail about some of the instances of observations. Mark gave Jerry a general overview of the FBI’s ongoing investigation without going into the details of sensitive areas.

Before wrapping up the interview, Mark asked, “What about your girlfriend, Jerry? She plays a critical role and we — the Bureau and I — are very concerned for her safety.”

Jerry sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I firmly believe that she’ll be safe — undetectable — because she has already been careful to not look directly at them when reading The Boys’ lips. I explained to her that I’m going to write her observations in a journal with the idea of writing a book about this someday. She understood and considered it an exciting challenge.”

“Be very careful and if at anytime you have even the slightest inkling that either one of you will be jeopardized, I want you to bail out. Your lives are much more important than giving us information.” Mark returned the notebook and pen to his pocket.

“You can rest assured, Mark, that I’ll be very cautious.” Jerry paused for a moment, shifting in his chair and then asked, “Why haven’t I read about anything in the newspaper about The Boys being busted for their activities?”

“Good question, Jerry. The truth is, the district attorney for Western Massachusetts, Ernie Robertson, has a young family and he’s scared of The Boys. We have yet to get one conviction through his office. I think he’s trying to work his way up into a higher government job through elections, but with his record of being easy on crime, that may be a hindrance. It’s really hard to say. All I know is that we need some hard evidence and then we can lean on him. This is where you come in.”

Jerry squirmed in his chair again, “It sounds like the job is cut out for me.”

“Just a few more things, Jerry, that we have to go over,” Mark said, leaning back in his chair. “First of all, as I said earlier, this is the only time I will see you here because The Boys know my car and I’m fairly sure they have my home phone tapped.”

“What makes you think they’ve tapped your phone?” Jerry was surprised.

“The Boys have tentacles that reach everywhere. I’m sure they have — let’s say ‘friends’ — in the phone company who are coerced into doing illegal operations in exchange for overdue vigorish. It’s that or their families are threatened. The ‘friends’ opt for doing what The Boys want done. Another thing is that I don’t want you to write down anything you see, hear or are told about what The Boys are doing. It would be your death-knell if you are caught with any kind of documentation. But from what you’ve told me, I don’t think that’s a concern because of your excellent memory.”

Jerry nodded his head yes, confirming what Mark said.

Mark tapped his fingers on the table and continued, handing Jerry a piece of paper, “Here is a phone number of the person you are to contact if you need to reach me. Memorize it and then destroy the paper. If you have a need to call, do it from a pay phone. I have a feeling The Boys may put a tap on your phone, too, because you’re a newcomer and not one of them. The lady you’ll speak with is one of our civilian contacts and we’re sure her phone is clean. It’s her home phone and she’ll get in touch with me. You will not hear back from her; she will only take your message and your message will be that you want to see me. Also, when you talk with her you will identify yourself as ‘Agent O’Dell’ and I’ll let her know today that you’ll probably be calling her over the next two years.”

“That’s all fine, Mark. But how will I know where we’ll meet?” Jerry asked and scratched the top of his head.

“That’s the final item of our business today. Just west of the Tree House is a road on the right, and there’s a sign showing the turn going into Woronoco. As you go north you’ll see the old Strathmore Paper Mill, which is abandoned. There’s a large parking lot on the west side of the mill and that’s where we’ll meet. I’m going to state the obvious: when you are driving there, be vigilant of cars and any other vehicles that may be behind you. If you think you are being tailed, do not go to the mill. Also, if I think I’m being followed, I will not be there. Right now I’m thinking that we’ll meet every Monday morning at eight. If a tail gets in the way, we’ll meet on Tuesday morning. Even if there’s nothing to report, we’ll still meet. Oh, there is one more detail. If something comes up and I can’t be there, I’ll have another friend call you to say that she has to cancel the appointment to have her portrait taken. If I need to reschedule our meeting, she’ll call and ask if she may reschedule her appointment for the time and day that I’ll have available. Now, can you remember all of this?”

“It’s all filed right here,” Jerry said, tapping the side of his head with a finger.

“Good,” Mark said as he stood up. He headed for the back door, stopped, turned and said, “I’ll see you next Monday morning.”

“S’long, Mark. See you then.” Jerry closed the door and sat down to memorize the phone number. He lit a cigarette and then burned the paper.

Chapter Four

Jerry jumped when fingers poked him in both of his sides. Before he had a chance to turn around, Lois threw her arms around him, kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, “Did you tell Card the good news?”

Jerry cupped his hand around his mouth and whispered back, “No, I was waiting until you got here.”

Lois sat down as Jerry motioned Card over to them. “Got some good news for you, Card.”

“And what could that be?” Card asked as he started making a drink for Lois.

“I’ve decided to stay and open a studio here. My contract is fulfilled with Continental as of today and they want more pictures taken over the next several months, but my main reason is to be with Lois,” Jerry said, rubbing his ear.

“Hey, that’s great!” Card reached his hand over the bar to shake Jerry’s hand.

“One thing I thought of today is maybe I could be the ‘official photographer’ for any future weddings that The Boys’ families may have. I’d also be available to take family pictures in their homes, First Communion photos and whatever else comes up.” Jerry got cigarettes out and lit them for him and Lois.

“That’s a hell of a good idea, Jerry,” Card said and set the drink for Lois on a coaster in front of her. Card paused in thought for a few moments. “Ya know, I just got to thinking about something. For First Communion pictures, so you don’t have to take them in the church, you could use a short section of altar rail for a prop.”

Jerry’s face lit up. “Excellent idea, Card. But where will I find one. I’m certainly not going to sneak into a church some night and steal one!”

“Let me think on it for a minute — I’ll be back soon — I see some dry customers.”

“Well, if it isn’t the two love birds,” Angie said, cleaning around her station. “It’s about time you came up for air so we can say ‘hi’ — so hi.”

“Hi, Angie,” Jerry and Lois chimed in unison.

Card came back with a big smile. “I think there’s a solution to the altar rail, Jerry.”

“What’s that?” Jerry asked and tapped ashes into the ashtray.

“We have a friend who is in the demolition business. He also has a junkyard and does long-distance hauling. I’ll introduce you to him next time you’re both here. His name is Frankie Barczewski — he’s a good Polack. Dad and Benny helped set him up in business years ago with an interest-free loan and he’s never forgotten it. He’ll do anything for us.”

Yeah, I bet he will. He’s gotta be some kind of a sucker to fall into their trap. From what I’ve seen, The Boys don’t do anyone favors unless they are going to collect on it big time.

Card continued as he reached to get Jerry another Bud. “I like your ideas, Jerry, and I bet you’ll have more business than you’ll want. I especially like the one about being the official photographer. I’ll run it past Benny and see what he has to say.”

Morris and Shirley came in. Angie asked if they would like to sit at a table and when Morris said yes, she took Lois and Jerry’s drinks and extra cocktail napkins for Morris and Shirley and led them to a table. She went back to her station to get the Skillmans’ drinks.

“I just can’t believe how faaaaabulously the two of you get along!” Shirley gushed. “I can’t recall knowing anyone who went head-over-heals like you have in such a short time. I think both of you are wonderful and I hope this all turns into a long, happy life together. This is just so fab!”

Morris just grinned and nodded in agreement.

Lois beamed and said, “I’m just so happy that Jerry’s staying on, Shirley. I just can’t imagine my life without him.”

Jerry tilted back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “I guess I’m just as surprised as the rest of you are. Never would I have imagined that I’d meet such a great girl at a time when I was supposed to be leaving. All I can say is life takes some strange twists and turns when we least expect it.”

Angie set drinks in front of Shirley, Lois, Morris and Jerry. “These are on Card — congratulations drinks for Jerry staying here.”

They picked up their glasses, turned toward Card and raised the glasses in a ‘thank you’ gesture. Card waved and smiled.

After a conversation over their drinks, Shirley and Morris excused themselves to go home for supper. Lois and Jerry left their empty glasses on the table and started toward the bar. They stopped and looked for places to sit when they saw two men sitting by the waitress station. Card leaned over the bar and talked to the men, who promptly got up and walked down the bar to other empty stools. Card motioned Jerry and Lois to come over and then leaned over and talked with Angie.

“What’s the deal?” Jerry asked Card. “Those men were sitting here; we could have just as easily sat somewhere else.” Jerry pulled the stool out for Lois to sit down.

“Let’s just say that it’s my place and I can do anything I want,” Card said and went to mix a drink for Lois and get Jerry’s beer.

Angie stood between them with her hands on their shoulders and said, “Card told me that anytime you come in — and if he’s not here — and if someone is sitting here that I’m to tell them that the seats are already taken. He really likes you guys and he knows that you like these spots. So, take advantage of it!”

Lois whispered, “I feel like royalty.”

Jerry whispered back, “Me, too. I don’t know — it just seems a little strange.”

“Jerry, dear, it’s not strange. It tells me that you’re ‘in’ — that you’re accepted. And I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“That’s kind of a scary thought, though,” Jerry shivered.

Card returned with their drinks. He leaned over the bar, close to Jerry, and said in a low voice, “Now that you’re not doing anything for a while, I’d like to talk with you about something.”

Jerry leaned forward slightly, “Sure — fire away.”

“I was wondering if you’d do a favor for The Boys and me once in a while. They have some business deals around New England and have an occasional need for someone to make deliveries for them — that is when they don’t have time to do them. They’ll pay you two dollars per mile and another one hundred dollars a night if you have to stay over. You don’t have to keep track of your mileage because they already know how far the places are from here. That’ll cover your expenses with enough left over to make it worth your while.” Card stood up and took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

Jerry intentionally paused for several seconds and looked off into the distance as if in deep thought. I’m sure Mark is going to find this quite interesting. “Yeah, I think I can do that. I know I’ll need some extra cash while I get my studio business built.”

They shook hands and Card went around the bar checking on customers.

“Jerry,” Lois whispered in a strained voice, “remember what I told you about The Boys wanting a patsy? They decided you’re it! This could be very dangerous, Hon.”

“Lois, dear,” Jerry whispered back confidently, “if I thought it would be dangerous, I would have declined. Honey, I’m not worried.”

Angie interrupted, asking, “Are you guys ready for dinner? The dining room’s open now and the waitress is ready.”

Jerry and Lois had just finished dinner when Card showed up at their table with after dinner drinks. “These are on me,” Card said and pulled up a chair. “The wedding couple called a few minutes ago and asked if you were here. It seems that the Tree House is known as your unofficial office! I took the liberty of telling them that you are here and for them to come in, so I hope you don’t mind.” Card looked at Jerry with an expression of question on his face.

Jerry sipped his drink and then answered, “This is as good a time as any. I’ve been meaning to talk with you about it because the wedding day isn’t that far off. So let’s do it now. There should be enough room for the four of us to sit here if we may have another chair.”

Card signaled the waitress and told her to bring one more chair. He then excused himself and returned to the bar.

Lois beamed at Jerry, “Oooooooo, this is going to be so exciting. I get to be the photographer’s assistant at a big ol’ Mafia wedding!”

“Hold on there, Lois,” Jerry admonished. “They haven’t given the okay yet for me to have an assistant.” Jerry looked up to see Card leading a couple toward him. “Looks like we have company and they both look very Italian,” he said quietly.

“Jerry, Lois, I’d like you to meet Luigi and Maria,” Card said, with a sweeping motion of his arm and hand.

Jerry stood up, extending his hand, “So pleased to meet you, Luigi and Maria.”

“Just call me Lui,” he said as he sat down. “Luigi is an old-fashioned name — I’m more comfortable with Lui.”

Smiling broadly, Maria said, “I’m still Maria; no name change for me!”

For over an hour they discussed the plan for the wedding and reception photos. Maria thought it was a good idea to have Lois as Jerry’s assistant. Maria said she had been to weddings where there was no assistant and it required more time to take the formal altar photographs.

“Will yours be a very large wedding?” Lois asked.

Lui and Maria looked at each other and smiled. Maria answered, “Yes, it will be quite large. The church will be full and the reception will be packed. I hope we will be able to fit everyone in at the Westfield Country Club.”

Leaning forward on his forearms, Lui added, “We have relatives and friends from all over New England who will be attending.”

I bet you have a lot of “friends” from all over, Jerry thought. I’m guessing they are both of your fathers’ “business associates.”

“I believe we have covered everything,” Maria said, pushing back her chair.

Jerry answered, “I think so, too. However, if either of you think of other photos you would like to have taken, write ’em down or tell me at the wedding or reception as you think of them. I’m flexible to your needs. After all, it is your special day and I want to accommodate you so you have the best wedding album possible. Speaking of wedding albums, we didn’t discuss them. Do you want me to find a local source or do you want to find your own?”

“We’ll take care of it,” Lui said as he stood up. “We have a friend in Hartford who owns a camera store and he has a large supply of albums.”

“Hey, maybe I could do business with him!” Jerry said.

“If you do, let me know and I’ll tell him about you,” Lui said. “I know he’ll take really good care of you and your needs.”

Standing up, Jerry replied, “Thanks, Lui. I really appreciate it.”

After shaking hands and exchanging brief good-byes, Lui and Maria left.

“Ahhh, it’s good to be home,” Lois purred, hugging Jerry from behind as he opened the refrigerator to get a bottle of wine.

“Easy there, young lady,” Jerry teasingly cautioned. “Keep this up and I might be forced to turn around and kiss you. And you know what that can lead to!”

“Try me,” Lois whispered, hugging him tighter. “I’m so horny that if you touch me I’ll probably go ‘beeeeep.’”

Jerry put the wine back and closed the door. “We can save it for later,” he said, turning around and scooping up Lois in his arms.

“You Tarzan, me Jane. Take me wherever you want, as long as it’s the bedroom.” Lois wrapped her arms around Jerry’s neck and locked her lips onto his.

Chapter Five

Light rain was falling when Jerry drove into the Strathmore parking lot on Monday morning. He looked at his watch: seven fifty-five.

Mark pulled in by Jerry, rolled down his window and said, “Get in with me.”

“I hope you don’t mind the mud,” Jerry said as he pulled in his feet and closed the door. “This parking lot sure is a mess from the rain. It sounded like it was coming down in buckets during the night.”

Mark opened his notebook and clicked his pen in preparation for taking notes. “This won’t be the first time my car’s had mud in it. — Is there anything new going on?”

Scratching his head, Jerry answered, “Do you know or have you heard of Frankie Barczewski?”

“I’m only familiar with that name, if it’s the same Barczewski that I saw on a junkyard sign near West Springfield.”

“That’s the same one, I’m sure,” Jerry said. He continued to tell Mark what Card told him about Frankie.

“Hmmmm,” Mark tapped his pen against the pad in thought, “this could very well be the link we’ve been missing in our investigation of stolen merchandise being smuggled from Canada. Without going into a long story, a Rolex watch turned up in New Haven and the serial number on it matched that of one stolen in Canada. Our Canadian Mounty counterparts notified the Bureau that one hundred fifty Rolexes had been taken during a break-in at a jewelry wholesale firm in Montreal several months ago.”

Jerry squirmed uneasily and related to Mark what Card said about making deliveries around New England.

“Here’s how I interpret that,” Mark said, turning to a new page in his notebook. “The Boys may be getting a bit paranoid about using their own cars all the time. They’re probably worried that they are being followed by us or state crime agencies. By using you as their patsy, they don’t care if you get busted. They also know that your panel truck is obviously different from their cars and that no one will be looking for you. If you do get busted some time, we will know about it and we’ll get you released — and there will be no record of you or the arrest. — You are doing a fantastic job of absorbing information, Jerry! Do you have anything else?”

Jerry rubbed his ear and said, “A week from this Saturday I’ll be photographing the Mafia wedding. The couple said the guest list includes relatives and friends from all over New England. I have a feeling that the ‘friends’ are their dads’ fellow mobsters. They also said that the reception will have more people than at the ceremony.”

“Where’s the reception being held?” Mark asked as he turned another page in his notebook.

“The Westfield Country Club, starting at three o’clock.”

“No one will see us, but we’ll have the highway by the country club under surveillance and we’ll be taking down car descriptions and license plate numbers.” In anticipation of no further business, Mark closed his notebook and asked, “Anything else to report, Jerry.”

Reaching for the door handle, Jerry replied, “That covers everything for now, Mark. I’ll call if anything changes.”

* * *

Jerry held the door open for Lois to get into his panel truck.

“I just realized that this is the first time for me to ride with you. This is a really comfy bucket seat!” Lois exclaimed as she positioned herself, settled back and enjoyed the ambrosial odor of the leather-upholstered seats.

“Yeah, the old girl cleaned up rather nicely,” Jerry modestly replied, taking great pride in his panel truck. “This isn’t your typical ’50 workhorse. She has a four-on-the-floor transmission and dual exhaust coming off an Oldsmobile V-8 engine. Looking at her from the outside gives no indication that she’s really a sleeper.”

Lois turned and looked at Jerry as he backed from her driveway. “Why is it a ‘sleeper’? Do you sleep in it when you’re traveling?”

Jerry laughed, “I’ll demonstrate when we get to the highway.” He turned west on route twenty, heading toward Westfield and the Tree House. After shifting into third gear he pushed the accelerator to the floor; the sudden force pressed Lois back in her seat. He eased up and shifted into fourth gear. “That, my dear, was a demonstration of my sleeper. My truck looks neither fast nor powerful and that’s the way I want it to appear — that’s why it’s called a sleeper.”

“Why don’t you want it to look fast or powerful?”

“Let’s just say that I prefer the low-key approach. I don’t want every hot-roddin’ kid to challenge me to a race from traffic lights. I’d leave ’em in the dust every time and that would make them mad, which in turn would probably make them want to challenge me to a fist fight when they caught up with me at the next light.”

“Oh, I see,” Lois said quietly as she straightened her skirt over her knees.

The bar and lounge were almost full when Jerry and Lois walked into the Tree House. Card saw them as they entered and he told the two men sitting by the waitress station to move to the end of the bar.

“I’ll be back in a minute, Jerry,” Lois said, looking to her left. “One of my girl friends is in the lounge and I need to talk with her for a second.”

“Go ahead. I’ll order our drinks and eagerly await your return!”

“The usual, Jerry?” Card asked.

“Please,” Jerry answered as he pulled up the stool and sat down.

“Here’s your beer. I’ll have Lois fixed up in a minute.”

“Thank you, Card.”

Jerry became aware of the man to his left when he spoke to Jerry. The man appeared to be of medium height, stocky; an unshaven, weathered face; he was wearing muddy boots, well-worn blue jeans and a flannel shirt. He asked Jerry, “What are ya — some goddam, fuckin’, cultured Hahvahd boy with yer ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ bullshit? You fuckin’ piss-ants make me sick. Hey, you ain’t got no wedding ring on. What are ya, some kind of a fuckin’ queer?”

Jerry was taken aback and didn’t know what to say to the man who was obviously quite drunk.

Card watched the whole thing and leaned across the bar and said to the man, “Frankie, knock it off. Jerry is our friend. — Did you hear me? He is our friend. — I think it’s time for you to go home and sleep it off.”

Lois returned just as Card was talking to Frankie. She sat down; Frankie got up, staggered toward the door, turned around and gave Card the finger. Card just laughed and said Frankie wouldn’t remember a thing when he wakes up in the morning.

Leaning close to Jerry, Lois whispered, “Whether you like it or not, Jer, you are in with The Boys.”

“What do you mean that I’m ‘in’ with The Boys?” Jerry whispered back.

“Card said that you are ‘our friend’. This means you are accepted by The Boys. Had Card said, ‘He is my friend’, that would have meant that you are not accepted by The Boys.”

Jerry pulled an ashtray between them, lit their cigarettes, handing one to Lois, and said, “I’m still learning and I’m glad I have you as my interpreter.”

Card leaned over the bar, “Sorry, Jerry, that Frankie was so obnoxious. He’s really a nice guy when he’s not drinking.”

“Is he the Frankie with the junkyard and so on?”

“Yes, and I’ll introduce you to him next time he’s in and before he has too much to drink. Frankie usually drops in around five or so on Thursdays.”

“I’ll be sure to be here this Thursday. I want to ask him about the altar rail for the First Communion photos.”

“Let’s have one more drink and then go home,” Lois said, pushing her empty glass to the back of the bar. “I have a very busy schedule tomorrow and a good night’s sleep is what I need.”

“I’m with you there, sweetie,” Jerry replied. “I still have a lot of work ahead of me to get the front of my building ready so I’ll have a working studio.”

* * *

Jerry drove into the Tree House parking lot Thursday afternoon. Parked at the far end of the building was a stake truck piled high with junk. Painted on the door was “Barczewski Demolition, Hauling and Salvage.” Looks like Frankie’s here, Jerry observed.

Card opened a Bud for Jerry and set it down before Jerry reached the bar. “Jerry, I’d like you to meet Frankie Barczewski. And, Frankie, I want you to know that Jerry’s our friend.”

“Nice meeting you, Frankie,” Jerry said politely.

“You look kinda familiar, Jerry. Have we met?” Frankie asked, extending his right hand that looked like it hadn’t been washed for weeks.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced before,” Jerry answered, skirting the question.

“Jerry’s getting ready to open a photo studio in Westfield,” Card said to Frankie, “and he’s looking for a small section of an altar rail with a kneeler to use for First Communion photos. I don’t ’spose you have anything like that, do you?”

Frankie smiled broadly. “If I get you one for free, will you take my granddaughter’s First Communion pi’ture for free?”

“Sure,” Jerry answered, scratching his head, “as long as you don’t want more than a dozen prints. Anything beyond that I’ll have to charge you for them.”

“I started tearing down a church in Chicopee Falls yesterday and I gots one on the top of the shit piled in my truck. — C’mon outside and we’ll get it now.” Frankie headed for the door as if he were on a mission.

Frankie climbed to the top of the junk pile and pulled hard, freeing a five-foot section of an altar rail with a red velvet-covered kneeler. “How’s dis?” he called to Jerry.

“Perfect. Hand it down and I’ll put it in my panel truck,” Jerry answered as he extended his arms to take the rail.

“Let me buy you a drink, Frankie,” Jerry said as they sat down at the bar.

“No, dis is on me,” Frankie insisted.

Card set their drinks in front of them and then went to the end of the bar to wait on customers who had just come in.

Frankie turned toward Jerry and said, “Card is one great guy. He’ll do anything for anybody. His old man and Benny helped me get my business goin’ several years ago. I’ll do anything to help him and Da Boys anytime dey ask. I probably shouldn’t say dis, but Card said that yer our friend, so I will. Dey pays me real good to haul stuff from Canada fer dem.”

I bet they do and someday you’re going to pay dearly for being their sucker.

Chapter Six

Jerry unlocked Lois’s back door, stepped into the kitchen and called out, “Are you decent, Lois? It’s almost time to go to the church and get set up for the wedding photos.”

“Cool your spurs, Cowboy! I’m still putting on make-up and I’ll need your help in a few minutes to zip up my dress.”

“Holler when you’re ready. — I see you made coffee so I might as well have a cup,” he said, opening the cupboard to take a cup off its hook. He filled the cup, took a sip and then said, “This is really good! Do you want some?”

Lois called back, “No thanks. I don’t want to take a chance of spilling it on the vanity. Would you unplug the pot when you’re through with it?”

Jerry finished his coffee, rinsed out the cup, unplugged the coffee pot, emptied the pot and grounds basket and then rinsed both of them, turning the pot upside down to drain.

Lois was standing in the doorway, observing Jerry’s clean up. “Aren’t you the ‘Donny Domestic’ this morning!” She gave him a hug, saying, “Just a little kiss right now. I don’t want to mess my lipstick.”

Jerry zipped up her dress, Lois took her purse from the table and then they left for the wedding in Westfield.

The church was full and as Jerry looked around at the attendees he turned and quietly said to [cap1] Lois, “I’ve never seen so many black suits with black shirts and white ties gathered in one place in my life. What is it about these guys — do they claim it as their uniform to tell the world, ‘I’m a mobster, so you better do what I tell you’?”

Lois whispered back, “I think so. One would think they would want to be less conspicuous, but then again, I’ve never heard any of them lay claim to being particularly brilliant. They probably think they’re untouchable.”

The wedding ceremony was a full mass, and by the time the ceremony was over and Jerry took the formal altar pictures, it was almost time for the reception. Lois helped Jerry carry the photo equipment to his panel truck and then asked, “Will you be taking all this into the reception?”

Carefully placing the equipment on the truck’s floor, Jerry answered, “No. Everything I need is in my camera bag. I won’t use any large flash equipment, light stands or a tripod.”

Lois found a small table in a corner of the large reception room, where they could watch the crowd and be ready to go around and photograph the guests.

Leaning close to Lois, Jerry rubbed his ear and whispered, “This looks like a Mafia convention and I bet every one of those goons is packing a pistol.”

“Do you really think so?” Lois replied, looking somewhat alarmed. “I hope they don’t start shooting at each other.”

Jerry laughed, “I doubt if they will. I’m guessing that all of them are friends. A gun to a mobster is like a pacifier to a baby: they need something to make them feel secure. — I think it’s time for us to get to work. All the tables seem to be filled.”

Working methodically, they went from table to table asking people to pose for the photo and everyone cooperated. At one table, where four men were seated, three of them smiled and hammed it up for the camera, but the fourth man shielded his face. “C’mon, loosen up,” Jerry cajoled. “The bride and groom want pictures of everyone attending the reception.” The man refused and Jerry took the photo of the three having fun and the fourth shielding his face.

This guy must have something to hide if he doesn’t want to be in the picture, Jerry thought. I’ll have to keep an eye out for him and see if I can catch him off guard.

Jerry and Lois continued working through the tables and took pictures of all the guests. They were returning to their table when Jerry saw the face-shielding man going to the bar. It must be his turn to get drinks for his table, which means his hands will be full.

“Lois, go on to our table. I’ll be with you as soon as I get a picture of the reluctant guest. He just went to the bar and I’ll capture him when he returns to his table.”

Jerry stopped about twenty feet from the bar, prefocused the camera and looked away, waiting for the right moment. The man had his hands full of glasses and when he got to the spot where Jerry focused he turned and took the picture. The man glared at Jerry, who said with a smile, “Thank you! Now the bride and groom’s album will be complete!” The man continued to glare and scowl at Jerry.

Taking a deep breath, Jerry sat down with Lois. “What’s cookin’, Cowboy? You seem to be disturbed,” Lois observed, reaching over to massage the back of Jerry’s neck. “Does it have anything to do with the picture you just took?”

“Yeah, I think that jerk wanted to kill me,” Jerry said, exhaling another deep breath.

Lois kissed him lightly on the cheek. “I think we could leave and go to my place for the rest of the evening.”

“I still have a few more pictures to take: cutting the cake, the first dance, and their dances with their parents. And we can’t forget the bouquet and garter toss pictures. When those are done we can leave.”

As they drove in her driveway, Lois asked, “You are coming in and spend the night, aren’t you?”

“Sorry, Lois, but not tonight. I have to develop all the film tonight so I can make prints tomorrow. I want to deliver proofs first thing Monday,” Jerry answered with a stretch and yawn.

“Why Monday? They’ll be on their honeymoon,” Lois said, with a note of irritation in her voice.

“I guess you weren’t around when I told them I’d deliver the proofs to her mother.”

“Sorry, Jer. I’m just feeling a bit needy tonight, if you know what I mean,” Lois sighed.

“I understand — let’s try for tomorrow night,” Jerry said as he got out to go around and open the door for Lois. As an afterthought he added, “Would you like to work with me in the darkroom tomorrow? It’ll help get the job done sooner.”

“I’d love to. Pick me up around nine?”

“Let’s make it ten. It’s going to take a few hours to get all the film developed and I’m going to need the sleep after that,” Jerry yawned deeply.

* * *

“Pheeeeeww! Why does your darkroom always stink?” Lois wrinkled her nose. “How can you stand working in here?”

“You get used to it after a while,” Jerry said as he closed the door behind them. “What you smell are the stop bath and fixer, which I always leave out because they don’t deteriorate when left open. If you don’t want to smell them, you could stay in the studio or backroom until I have enough prints ready for you to run them through the dryer.”

“I’ll tough it out and stay in here with you,” Lois answered and hugged Jerry from behind.

Jerry looked at the several rolls of film that were hanging to dry. “The densities are good so I think I can print four-by-fives fairly quickly,” he said with a look of satisfaction.

Once he had established with a test print how long to expose the paper under the enlarger, he went to work in a rhythmic pattern of printing a roll of film, developing the prints together and getting them ready for Lois to run through the dryer.

Working under the dim illumination of the darkroom safelight, Lois said, “Hon, it looks like you’re making two of each picture of the reception. Is there a reason for this or is it a mistake?”

Thinking quickly, Jerry replied, “I plan to use the extra set as samples to show future brides what is available for reception coverage. I’ll be making eight-by-tens later for the church coverage. I really need a sample album so a bride will know what my work looks like. A lot of brides shop around at different studios for photographic style and price.” I wish she hadn’t asked that question. Now I’ll have to print another set later for a sample album.

“That makes sense,” Lois said as she placed more prints on the dryer apron. “Do you want me to help you choose the church photos for the album?”

“That’s a good idea. A female’s eye seems to be better than a guy’s when it comes to seeing what women want in pictures.”

“Ahhh, it’s good to be home after a long day in your darkroom,” Lois said as they walked through her kitchen. “How ’bout having “dessert” now — and later we can have a glass of wine and then supper,” she added and stopped Jerry by the bathroom. “Why don’t you get ready now? I’ll follow when you come out.”

Jerry got the picture — quickly.

Lois emerged a few minutes later.

They kissed deeply and gently rubbed each others bodies. Jerry slowly moved down, stopping to caress her breasts with his tongue and lips. Her nipples became firm and erect and her breathing was heavier. He knew the moment was now as he moved down past her stomach. His tongue went to work and suddenly the world went silent as Lois clamped her thighs over the sides of his head. It didn’t take long until her thrashing increased with the rapid motion of his tongue and then she loosened what almost felt like a death-grip on his ears.

Jerry moved back up and Lois indicated that it was her turn to satisfy him as she edged down his taut body.

In a matter of a few short minutes Jerry blasted off for the moon.

* * *

Mark pulled up next to Jerry in the Strathmore parking lot as Jerry got out of his car. He had been watching for Mark in his rearview mirror, eager to show him the wedding reception photos.

“What do you have today?” Mark asked as he turned toward Jerry as he sat down, holding the box of photos.

Answering casually, Jerry said, “Oh, just some photos from Saturday’s wedding reception.

“Already? I didn’t expect you to have them for at least another week!” Mark answered with surprise.

Handing the box to Mark, he said, “I wanted to get them done right away so everything is fresh.”

“I hope your coverage was thorough because we weren’t able to stakeout the highway as planned. A situation came up that required our presence elsewhere.” Mark took the pictures from the box and slowly leafed through them, occasionally giving a low whistle. “Jerry, you hit the mother lode. What you have here is a Who’s Who of the New England Mafia. With your coverage, we didn’t need the highway stakeout. It looks like you got pictures of every Mafioso in attendance.”

Jerry rubbed his ear, “I made it a point to be sure I photographed all of them. I felt it would be important to you.”

Mark started over going through the pictures. He pulled one out and said, “The Bureau is going to find this one very interesting.” Pointing to two men seated at the same side of a table, he said, “They are two prominent businessmen from Boston. We never knew they had any connection with the Mafia.” Putting the photo back, he continued leafing through until he reached another one, saying, “This one is a real find for us. We’ve been trying to get a picture of him for twenty years.” He showed Jerry the photo of the man carrying the drink glasses from the bar. “He hangs out at the Italian Club in Providence; he’s one of Joe Patriarca’s top lieutenants.”

“Joe Patriarca, the don of the New England Mafia?”

“He’s the one. Anyway, as I was saying, we’ve gone to some rather great lengths to take his picture. One time we parked a dry cleaner’s truck near the club entrance and another time we were up on a telephone pole with one of those canvas weather shields to disguise our presence. Nothing works. That guy is slipperier than an eel. He always wears dark glasses, night and day, and a hat when he goes in and out of the club. I noticed that he was shielding his face when you photographed the group at the table. How did you pull off this one?”

Jerry described his thoughts and action to get the picture, adding, “If looks could kill, I would have been vaporized on the spot. To say he was unhappy about my taking his picture would be a gross understatement.”

“I can’t begin to tell you what a valuable service you have performed in getting these pictures,” Mark said, shaking Jerry’s hand vigorously. “We’ll have a set of these made for each agent in New England, and probably New York City, too. I won’t need any negatives because I’ll get these to our Washington, D.C., headquarters, where they’ll copy them and then we’ll have our own negatives. Your photos are amazingly sharp. How do you do it?”

Beaming with pride, Jerry answered, “I shoot with a Hasselblad, and the Schneider lenses for my enlarger are the sharpest made. I have a fortune tied up in equipment. I hope this works out, I owe for most of it.”

Closing the box of pictures, Mark asked, “Anything else for today.”

“No. The wedding was the only action this week,” Jerry answered as he turned to open the door. “See you next Monday.”

Lois met Jerry at the Tree House after school. “Hi, Cowboy! I’m still feeling good after last night!” she greeted and sat down at the bar.

Ang picked up on it, “Oh, are you two finally doing it and that’s why you feel good?”

“No!” Lois protested. “It felt good to get all those wedding pictures done, and I still feel a sense of accomplishment.”

Overhearing the conversation, Card joined in. “You took a lot of pictures, Jerry. You got them done already?”

“Sure did, but I couldn’t have done it without Lois helping. She saved me a lot of time. I just hope Lui and Maria like the pictures, which I dropped off with Maria’s mother this morning,” Jerry said while he slid an ashtray between Lois and him.

“I gotta tell you something, Jerry,” Card said a bit nervously. “Come to the other side of the bar — this is a private matter.”

Jerry walked around and leaned against the bar, close to the wall. “What’s up, Card?”

“Do you remember taking a picture of a guy with his hands full of glasses?” Card asked, rubbing a towel along the back of the bar.

“Yeah, what about him?” Jerry replied nonchalantly, but feeling a sudden knot in his stomach.

“Soon after you took the picture, he went to Benny the Beak — I was sitting with Benny — and asked who you were. It seems that he doesn’t like his picture taken and he told Benny that he wanted to go outside and drill you when you left. Benny told him to back off and relax, that you are our friend. He wasn’t happy with Benny’s answer, but told Benny that he trusted him and what he said.”

“Thanks, Card.,” Jerry said as he stood up. “I appreciate yours and Benny’s trust. If it hadn’t been for Benny, I wouldn’t have had the wedding job and I’d be back in Minneapolis now. That also means I wouldn’t have found so many new friends, like Lois, you, Angela, Frankie and many others. My new life here has been very good and I expect it to get better!” Yeah, I really expect it to get better when your so-called friends’ world crashes down on them.

“What did Card want?” Lois whispered anxiously in Jerry’s ear.

“It really was nothing important. He just wanted to comment on my being at the wedding and taking pictures there and at the reception. I guess it’s a man-to-man thing when it comes to ‘wedding talk’ because guys usually don’t talk about weddings,” Jerry lied assuredly and didn’t scratch his ear.

Lois touched Jerry’s arm and leaned toward him, “Four of The Boys just came in. I wonder what they’ll talk about this evening?”

Turning to Lois, he said quietly, “Keep your eyes open and tell me when there’s something of interest.”

“It’s just small talk with Card right now.”

“I’m willing to bet my truck that it’s not going to stay small talk,” Jerry whispered back to Lois.

After a few minutes, Lois said, “You’re right. You get to keep your truck. I’ll tell you more when it seems that they’ve finished the conversation.”

Card left The Boys to take care of more customers who had just arrived.

Turning to Jerry, Lois continued in a very soft whisper, “They said they’re sending the dummy to Canada next week to pick up the first load of Christmas trees and some goods from their connections. One of the guys asked, ‘What are we going to do with them trees?’ and another one answered that they’ll sell them for a dollar each to some tree lot or burn them at Frankie’s yard.”

“That is fascinating!” Jerry answered, also in a soft whisper.

“Why do you think they want to get rid of the trees?” Lois asked innocently. “That’s throwing away a lot of money.”

“I think you missed the boat, Lois,” Jerry answered seriously. “My guess is that the trees are nothing more than a cover for the goods that they’re getting from their ‘business connections’ and Frankie, or the ‘dummy’ as they called him, will have a load manifest stating he’s hauling only Christmas trees when he goes through the U.S. Customs inspection.”

“Oh, I get it — Frankie’s The Boys’ patsy so they don’t take the heat if he gets caught with stolen merchandise.”

“I gotta hand it to you, kiddo, you’re getting locked onto The Boys’ methods,” Jerry whispered while he massaged her neck.
Chapter Seven

“Wh–wh–what’s going on?” Jerry muttered aloud when he shut off his alarm clock and the ringing continued. He came out of his sleep fog more and realized that the phone was ringing. He stumbled across the room and then stumbled against the phone. “Hello,” he yawned. He looked at the clock: five thirty, half an hour before the alarm was set to go off.

“Hi, Jerry,” Lois said. “I’m sorry to bother you so early but I’m getting ready to go to Pittsfield. A nurse just called me from the hospital saying that my mother’s quite ill, and I’m going there to be with her for a few days.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Lois, and I know that your mother is going to feel a lot better just having you near. Call me if you want me to help you with anything.”

“Thanks, Jer, I will.” And don’t have too much fun at the Tree House this week without me,” Lois teased.

* * *

“Where’s Lois?” Card queried Jerry when he sat down at the bar that evening.

“Her mother’s sick and Lois went to Pittsfield to be with her,” Jerry replied, pulling the stool closer to the bar and reaching for an ashtray.

“I’m not trying to get rid of you,” Card said as he set Jerry’s beer and a glass in front of him, “but if you want to have a change of scenery, my cousin Marcus owns or controls most of the bars on Springfield’s north side. I can find out where he is with just a phone call. He’ll treat you right.”

“I’ll think about it,” Jerry replied after swallowing his first drink.

Card continued, “He’s known as ‘Marc the Knife’ because he sometimes has to convince his ‘customers’ with a penknife if they don’t come across with what they owe him. That’s pretty much how he became successful with his business arrangements. I’ve gotta hand it to him — he’s a pretty shrewd businessman. He’s doing such a good job that Benny’s thinking of moving him up in the organization.”

“That’s interesting,” Jerry said, scratching his head. “Was he at the wedding reception? There were so many people there that I don’t think I’d know what he looks like if you were to describe him.”

“Yeah!” Card said brightly. “He was at a table sitting next to his wife. She has huge knockers, so I don’t think you’ll have any problem finding him in your pictures!” Card excused himself to wait on customers on the other side of the bar.

Angie wasn’t busy and she said to Jerry, “I doubt if you’d have much fun going to any of Marc’s bars.”

Turning to her, Jerry answered, “That was exactly my thought. I’m happy just hangin’ out here.”

Angie put her hand on Jerry’s arm, “I think you need a little excitement — like maybe getting your ashes hauled and that’s where I come in.”

“We’ve been through this before, Ang. We’re friends and that’s how I want to leave it.”

“No, not me, silly. I know someone in Springfield who could give you a real thrill! — Just hear me out. She works at the Famous Door and I think you’ll like the place, and Kitty, too. It’s easy to find and you could use a new experience.” Angie gave him directions and urged him to do something different now that Lois was away and he could explore on his own.

After drinking two more beers, Jerry thought, maybe it would be fun to have a change of scenery. It certainly wouldn’t hurt anything.

Downtown Springfield was easy to navigate and Angie’s directions were easy to follow, leading Jerry to the Famous Door. He entered what appeared to be the main door, which led to the bar and it was fairly well illuminated. Like many other bars, it was in the shape of a horseshoe. He found a vacant stool and ordered a Bud. After downing a swallow he was getting ready to light a cigarette when he heard the opening snap of a lighter and it appeared in front of him. He took the flame and turned to see a slender black woman standing next to him. She was very attractive and her big smile of exceptionally white teeth almost lit up the room. She wore a mini-skirt that seemed to be no bigger than a handkerchief and a loosely-tied halter top.

“You must be Jerry the photographer,” she said, still smiling brightly.

“I am,” Jerry replied, rubbing his ear. “And may I guess that you are Kitty?”

She moved closer — much closer — to Jerry and whispered, “I am. Ang called me and said to be on the lookout for you — that you probably need a ‘trick’ and I’m the one who can do it with you.” She held his shoulder and rubbed her firm, but soft breast against his arm.

It took Jerry about a microsecond to figure out the Famous Door was a front for prostitution, judging from Kitty’s comments and from observing the other black girls who appeared to be working the bar. The bartenders seemed to be Italian.

“Thanks, but no thanks for your offer of a trick, Kitty,” Jerry said as he turned his barstool toward her. Just then he heard the sound of a brass band playing “Soulful Strut.” He looked around and then asked Kitty, “Where’s the music coming from? It is nothing short of fantastic!”

“That’s our band in the next room. Let’s go over there and sit at a table. I’ve gotta make it look like I’m ‘working’ you or they get after us for not making a score,” she said and grabbed his arm to lead him around the bar and into the next room, which was barely visible through another door at the back of the bar.

The room turned out to be quite large with small cocktail tables, a candle on each one, scattered around a dance floor and the twelve-piece band, made up of black men, was in a corner by a hallway that probably went to a front entrance. Several couples were on the dance floor. Jerry got the impression that it was a black-and-white club, along with being a front for a whorehouse. Kitty took them to a table away from the dance floor and band.

A black waitress took their drink orders: a Bud for Jerry and Kitty said she’d have her regular bar drink.

“My drink,” Kitty explained, leaning close to Jerry so she could be heard over the band, “is Seven-Up with fruit juice in it and fruit on top. They’ll charge you a dollar twenty-five for it, the same as a regular drink, but The Boys won’t allow us to drink regular drinks and get drunk on the job.”

“Makes sense to me,” Jerry answered and rubbed his ear. He wanted to ask her more about her job, but Kitty got the jump on him.

“Ang tells me you’re a photographer. Are you a pornographer, too, or just a regular picture-takin’ man?” Kitty asked as she lit his cigarette and then took an ashtray from a nearby table and placed it on theirs.

Jerry looked squarely at her, “I’ve done some nude figure studies, but never anything that could be considered pornographic. That isn’t my style, nor does it interest me.”

“I was just curious,” Kitty said with a grin. “I’ve worked with black photographers and they always treated me like a whore instead of a model. — I’d like to have you take pictures of me, that is if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I’d love to,” Jerry replied after taking a drink from the beer bottle. There was something about her that captured his interest. “Do you have some ideas about how you wanted to be photographed? — Poses, types of clothing, you know, that sort of thing.”

“Oh, yeah. I have a lot of ideas! How soon can we get together for the pictures?” Kitty asked eagerly, her sloe eyes glinting in the soft glow of the candlelight.

Jerry shifted his weight and moved his chair closer to the table, “Just about anytime you want. You tell me what’s best for you.”

“I’m off tomorrow so why don’t you pick me up right after noon? I want a good night’s sleep so I look fresh for the pictures. I don’t have a car so I hope you don’t mind driving me.” Kitty gave him directions to her apartment in West Springfield and her phone number. “Uh-oh, I’ve gotta go. The boss is giving me the ‘eye’ to get busy on you or hustle someone else. See ya tomorrow.” She said goodnight to Jerry and hurried off to the bar and troll for a hit.

Looking at his watch and seeing that it was only nine forty, Jerry decided to go back to the Tree House.

“Well, look at what the cat dragged in!” Angie said, placing her hands on her hips when Jerry sat down. “Did Kitty turn the trick for you?”

“No, there were no tricks tonight. She is a very interesting lady, though, and she asked me to photograph her. Why, I don’t know. Guess I’ll find out when we do the shoot,” Jerry replied, scratching his head with one hand and reaching for his beer and glass, which Card had just set down, with the other.

Card leaned over the bar and in a low voice said, “I need to ask you for a favor.”

“Sure. Fire away.”

Speaking even softer, Card asked, “Can you make a delivery for us this week? I think it’ll be on Thursday.”

“Can do, Card. I have plenty of time on my hands,” Jerry answered sincerely.

“Good! I’ll have all the information by Wednesday night.”

Card went to the opposite side of the bar and talked with The Boys.

What a time for Lois to be gone. I hope her mother is improving so she won’t have that worry on her mind when she gets back. Maybe I should go to my apartment. Maybe Lois will call. I do need to get up early and get the studio ready for tomorrow.

Jerry pushed back his bar stool. He waved at Card and Ang, “Goodnight. I’ll probably be in tomorrow evening.”

* * *

“You’re right on time,” Kitty greeted Jerry as she opened her door. She picked up a small suitcase and a garment bag. “I’m all set,” she said brightly and flashing a smile. “I’m looking forward to having my pictures taken by a professional!”

The weather was cloudy, cool and a light mist was in the air. Kitty wore a raincoat to protect herself from the dampness.

“Nice shorts!” Kitty exclaimed when she saw Jerry’s panel truck. “You don’t see any of these trucks around anymore.”

While driving through West Springfield, Jerry asked, “Why do you want me to take photos of you? It looks like you’re loaded for bear with the suitcase and garment bag.”

“I’ve had this dream for a long time to open my very own boutique. I want to get out of the whorein’ business real bad and I need pictures to put up to show some of my wares,” Kitty answered sincerely and without reservation.

Jerry was really curious now. “Where do you plan to open a boutique and just how did you get into the skin business?”

Kitty smoothed her raincoat and replied, “I want to go back to Kentucky and find a town that needs my boutique. — I ran away from home when I was sixteen, no job, no friends, no nothin’. After starving on the streets for a while this pimp noticed me and offered me a job. I was desperate and spreading my legs for money was easy work. He treated me real nice, bought me clothes, put me up and fed me.” She paused for a moment, taking a couple deep breaths. “He said he could get me a job in the big time. I didn’t question it, but what he did was sell me to the Mafia. They sent me to Chicago for a couple of years and then on to Philadelphia. The next stop was Hartford for a couple of years and then I ended up here, where I’ve been for almost two years. I figure the next stop will be Boston. They like to move us around so the johns have new faces and bodies to choose from.”

Jerry was fascinated with her story. “Doesn’t it bother you at all to be doing — uh — what you’re doing?” he asked cautiously.

“Not a bit,” Kitty answered unabashedly. “The only downer is that us girls have to take turns being arrested by the vice squad. It’s no fun being arrested, spending the night in jail and being in front of the judge the next day. The Boys’ lawyers always get us off with a small fine and suspended sentence. The Boys pay off the cops every Saturday night, and if you go in the bar some Saturday you’ll see two cops come in and go to the room behind the bar with one of the bartenders. That’s where they do the payoff. The Boys have an agreement with the cops that if there’s complaints from the public that an arrest will be made. When people see it in the paper, they must think the job’s done and they don’t complain for a few months. It’s just part of doing business.”

Jerry scratched his head. “Aren’t The Boys afraid of the law at all?”

“Naw,” Kitty replied with a laugh, “the only fear they have is of the IRS”

“Why only the IRS?”

“They have the cops paid off and they don’t seem to worry at all about the state or the FBI,” Kitty explained knowingly. “They don’t want the IRS nosing into their money matters, and to keep their asses covered at the Famous Door all of us girls have ‘jobs’ so we have regular paychecks with deductions. We get a lot of cash on the side because the dummied jobs don’t pay that good. There’s a hell of a lot of cash that goes through that place because of us girls.”

“That’s really interesting — and cool — that The Boys have the job thing to protect them and you girls, too,” Jerry said as he turned on the windshield wipers to clear the mist that was changing to light rain. “What kind of jobs do you have?”

“Most of the girls are waitresses. Two of us are bookkeepers and two others are cleaning ladies. We’ve all been told what to say in case the revenuers come in and ask us questions.”

“Here we are,” Jerry announced as he stopped at the studio’s back door. He took Kitty’s luggage and held the door open for her. Once inside the studio, he showed her a small changing room. “You may change in there, Kitty. It’s not very big, but it does give you privacy,” he motioned with his hand.

Jerry pulled down on the roll of white, seamless paper background, and positioned the lights and tripod. Kitty emerged from the changing room, wearing a muted-blue mini-skirt, a matching blouse, a dark blue necklace and high-heeled shoes.

He noticed something about her that he hadn’t seen before. “Kitty, your skin tone is quite different from that I’ve seen on other black women. It has an olive-colored tinge to it; quite becoming I must say. I want to see if I can capture the subtleness of it on color film. I was just going to shoot black-and-white film today, but I’m really intrigued with the olive and I hope to retain it on the color film.”

“My mother is black and my father, according to what my mother told me, is Creole Indian. I’ve never seen him and my best guess is that I’m the result of a one-night stand,” Kitty said with a laugh.

They worked into mid-afternoon with Kitty going through changes of clothing from full dress down to a bikini.

“Let’s take a break, Kitty. You’ve been working pretty hard and I still want to shoot one more roll, but color this time,” Jerry said as he stretched. “Would you like a cup of coffee or a bottle of soda?”

“Coffee’s okay with me,” Kitty replied as she walked over to get her raincoat. “I’m going to wear this for a while ’cause I’m kinda chilly with just a bikini on.”

They went back into Jerry’s living quarters and sat at the table, drinking their coffee.

“You are so different than the other photographers I’ve known,” Kitty commented after setting her cup down. “You treat me nice and don’t order me around. I really like you, Jerry, and I want you to take more pictures some day. You’re so easy to talk to and you seem to care about what I have to say. I hardly ever get to talk to white boys, except the ones that come to the Door, and the only thing they’re really interested in is getting their rocks off.”

“I think you’re a very nice lady, Kitty, and I enjoy working with you.” Jerry refilled his cup. “I just hope that the photos are good enough to help you in your quest for independence.”

“Yeah, I’d sure like to break away from the Mob. You can’t believe some of the things that go on at the Door.”

Playing the innocent role, Jerry asked, “You mean that they do more than just peddle flesh?”

“Oh boy, do they! They sell lotsa bootlegged booze, but the really big money comes from the drugs they sell, like marijuana, heroine, cocaine, uppers — you know, all that kind of stuff. I hope I ain’t around if the feds ever catch ’em. I don’t wanna go to prison because of what they do,” Kitty said with a big sigh.

“Yeah, that would be pretty bad,” Jerry agreed and pushed his cup back. “Shall we get back to work? Go ahead and get ready while I load the color film.”

A few minutes later he walked into the studio to put the film magazine onto the camera body, which was on the tripod.

“Hey, Jerry, look at this!” Kitty shouted.

Jerry turned and as he faced her, Kitty opened her raincoat and dropped it to the floor. She was totally nude. Jerry stood stunned, not knowing what to say at first. Regaining his

composure, he said, “I must say, Kitty, that you certainly have a classic body. It’s even olive all over! Let’s see what we can do to preserve you on film.”

They spent close to an hour making twelve exposures, using up the entire roll.

“That should do it for today,” Jerry announced, then licked the sealing tape to keep the film tight on the roll. “I’ll take this to the color lab I use in East Hartford and ask them to watch the color balance when they make prints so your skin’s olive hue isn’t lost. I’ll have all the prints ready for you in two or three days. Should I bring them to the Door or call you at home and deliver them there?”

“Bring ’em to the Door, ’cause I’m sure the other girls will want to see them,” Kitty replied proudly, knowing the photos would make the other girls jealous of her beauty.

* * *

Angie told a guy to move to another barstool when Jerry walked in. He was tired and hungry after the long session with Kitty. “Hi, Ang,” he greeted as he spun around to face the bar and her. “Where’s Card tonight? You usually don’t tend bar in the evening.”

“Oh, he’s downstairs with a couple of The Boys,” she said quietly, leaning over the bar so no one would hear her answer.

Jerry noticed that she was darn near exposing her breasts completely. “What’s with the show time?” he said with a snicker.

Ang stood up and pulled her blouse down tighter to give even more exposure. She leaned back over the bar and quietly answered, “I have a car payment that’s coming due soon and I’m a little short of cash so I’m using my tip tits to get the guys to give me bigger tips. This always works and I know I’ll have more than enough money for my payment by Friday.” She laughed and said, “You men — well, maybe not you, Jerry — always seem to lose their senses when women show off their tits. I always say, if it works then do it! Why deny the guys some simple pleasure if it lines my purse?”

Reaching for his beer glass, Jerry laughed, “Yeah, I see your point — correction — points, all three of them!”

Angie playfully slapped his hand, “You are so ornery at times, and I love it!”

Card came in, took Jerry’s glass and bottle and said, “Jerry, come on back to my office for a short visit. We have something that needs to be discussed. — Angie, this won’t take very long, then I’ll be back so you can get back to the lounge customers.”

Jerry sat down with Card and the two Boys that Ang mentioned. Card set Jerry’s beer by him and said, “Jerry, we need you to make a delivery for us early Thursday morning in Hamden, Connecticut, which is on the north side of New Haven. Will this work out for you?”

“You bet it will,” Jerry assured them and picked up his beer glass. “What are the details?”

One of The Boys said without smiling or showing any friendly emotion, “Just be here at five Thursday morning and we’ll tell you what you need to know then.”

“Pull in on the backside of the building,” Card added, standing up, “and park by the back door. You’ll see our cars there. — That does it for now, Jerry. I’ll take your beer back to the bar.”

When Card set his beer in front of him, Jerry leaned over and asked, “What’s with that guy? He sure is a grouchy bastard.”

“Pay no attention to him,” Card answered as he picked up a towel and dried a glass. “He has a lot of business matters on his mind.”

On his way home Jerry found a phone booth and called the contact number to reach Mark. Once back in his apartment he went into the darkroom to see if the black-and-white film was dry, which it wasn’t, and he hoped the phone would ring either from Lois or Mark. He picked up the roll of color film, took it into the living area and set it on the kitchen table. His plan was to take the film to the color lab in the morning.

* * *

While Jerry was making coffee the next morning, the phone rang. A lady said, “I just want to verify that I have a portrait sitting with you first thing Monday morning.”

“Yes, you do,” Jerry replied. He hung up the phone, feeling a little disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to talk with Mark before going on the run to Hamden. He filled his coffee cup and decided to take the roll of color film to the lab in East Hartford, then return and spend the day in the darkroom making prints for Kitty.

Chapter Eight

Two cars were parked near the back door of the Tree House, leaving space for Jerry to back up by the door. One of the cars was a black Cadillac, the other a green DeSoto. Jerry knocked on the door and Card opened it.

“Hey, right on time, Jerry!” Card greeted with a smile. “Come on in. We have everything stacked here by the door, so let’s get going and load your truck.”

The same man from their meeting picked up a box and followed Jerry and Card. The boxes weren’t heavy and it only took a few minutes to load them. The man got into the DeSoto and drove off without saying anything. He always looked grouchy.

“He sure is talkative,” Jerry joked to Card as he closed the back door of his truck. “What’s his moniker, ‘Marty the Mute’?”

Card just laughed, but didn’t answer. “Here are your instructions. Drive down I-91 and when you get to Hamden exit, go right off the ramp and proceed for about a mile and a half. On the left side at a set of traffic lights you’ll see Hirschmanns, a large auto parts distribution warehouse. Back up to the loading dock and ask for Dominic. You have plenty of time to get there, but it’s imperative that you leave there before seven thirty.” Reaching into his jacket pocket, Card pulled out an envelope. “Here’s your travel pay. The Boys put a little extra in because it’s your first trip. See ya tonight?”

“I plan to be in. I’ll let you know how things went,” Jerry replied, opened the door and slid behind the wheel.

He drove east on route twenty and picked up route five at the rotary to head south for a few miles, where he’d get onto the interstate. As he curved around at the rotary by Agawam he saw in the rearview mirror a green DeSoto exit the rotary and get on to highway five. The DeSoto stayed behind Jerry a few hundred feet. Hmmm, I wonder if that’s why he left quickly, so he could get the jump on me and then follow for a while. I’ll play the game and see what The Boys are up to — if this is a test run or if they don’t trust me. His tailing me is about as subtle as a sledgehammer.

The drive through Connecticut was uneventful. Jerry enjoyed the rolling countryside and kept an eye on the DeSoto that followed him all the way to Hirschmanns. He backed into the loading dock and watched as the DeSoto turned around and headed back toward the interstate.

A man came out on the loading dock and told Jerry that his name is Dominic and would help Jerry unload his truck. “D’ya know what’s in these?” Dominic asked as Jerry handed him a box.

“Nope. My job is to deliver and nothing more,” Jerry replied, releasing the box to Dominic.

“Good man,” he said with a grin and took the last box from Jerry.

As Jerry pulled away from Hirschmanns he noticed a black Chrysler Imperial across the street that started to move as he turned right to head for the interstate. As he proceeded east the Imperial got close enough to Jerry that he could see it had a New York license plate.

Hmmm, this is interesting. I wonder what the goons are up to now?

The Imperial tailed Jerry all the way to Hartford until he exited onto the Charter Oak Bridge, crossing the Connecticut River, to go to East Hartford, where he went to the color lab.

“Hi, Jerry,” the lab manager greeted. “We just finished processing your photos. Man, they are great! The olive hue held — I think you’ll like the results.”

Jerry reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet and said, “That’s super! I hope Kitty likes them.”

“Where did you find this chick? She is definitely model material. I hope you don’t mind that I made an extra set that I’m going to hold for an okay from you,” the manager said, holding up a print envelope. “We have a customer who is always looking for new modeling talent and I think this gal is one he’d be interested in. There aren’t enough black female models available and I think she could fit the bill.”

“I’ll talk to her and get back to you,” Jerry replied and opened his wallet to pay the lab bill.

* * *

“Ooooo, these are great pictures!” Kitty exclaimed as she leafed through the color, and black and white eight by tens.

One of her co-workers was looking over Kitty’s shoulder and said, “Look at all them colors, they’s so beautiful that they looks like they could jump right out of the pi’ture.” She went on and on exclaiming about the colors.

As she walked away, Jerry asked Kitty, “What’s with this chick? She was seeing colors that didn’t exist!”

“She’s hopped up on drugs and stays that way much of the time,” Kitty replied with a sigh. “It’s too bad because she really is a nice girl when she’s not taking them. I think maybe it’s a way of putting up with her whorein’ job.”

“Changing the subject,” Jerry said while gathering the photos, “the manager at the color lab was very impressed with your photos. He made an extra set that he wants to show to a customer who owns a modeling business, and I told him I’d talk with you about it — and here we are talking about it. He believes that you could be a model and that more black females are needed. With the attitude changes being made regarding ethnic groups along with all of the civil rights changes that are going on right now, this could very well be good timing for you.”

“Absolutely!” Kitty said excitedly. “How soon can you do something?”

“I’ll call him tomorrow morning and give him the good word,” Jerry said and scratched his head. “If it works out, the man with the modeling business will probably contact me in order to get in touch with you. The lab manager doesn’t know what you do now and we’ll leave it at that. I don’t want this opportunity for you to be spoiled if he or his customer has negative ideas about your line of work. — I know, if he asks I’ll tell him you’re a bookkeeper at a nightclub.”

“That sounds like a great idea to me,” Kitty said and patted Jerry’s hand. “Oops, I’m getting ‘the eye’ so I better get back to working the floor.”

A brilliant full moon penetrated the black late evening sky when Jerry drove into the Tree House parking lot. There were no spaces by the building, but he did find an opening to back into near the highway side of the lot. Jerry turned off the engine and was just about to get out when he saw three men leaving the Tree House. Two of the men were shoving and talking in loud voices to the third. He rolled down his window and stopped just before it got to the point where it squeaked. Jerry didn’t want to announce his presence and have them see that he was watching and listening.

The men got to the end of the building and one of the loud talkers turned to the quiet man and quickly hit him in the groin with his knee. The man doubled over, shrieking with pain, and the other loud talker slugged him in the face, causing the man to fall to the ground, still screaming with pain and holding his crotch with both hands. One of the loud talkers pulled the man’s hands free and the other kicked the man in the crotch and then put his foot on it and ground the man’s balls, creating more screams of pain.

The two standing, who Jerry rightfully guessed, were The Boys and they were yelling and cursing at the man that if he didn’t pay his loan along with the additional thousand dollars of vigorish by next Friday, that his custom cabinet business would be ashes after midnight Friday. With that, the two picked up the man and shoved him into the back seat of a Plymouth. One of The Boys got into the drivers seat and the other went to a black Cadillac and followed the Plymouth out of the lot.

“Anything going on out there?” Card asked in a strange tone of voice as he set a beer on the bar for Jerry.

“Naw, it’s been a rather uneventful day,” Jerry answered nonchalantly as he positioned himself on the barstool.

“How did things go in Hamden?”

“Fast. I pulled up to the loading dock, Dominic came out, I handed him the boxes and then left. I would say it was fairly routine. — By the way, thanks for the delivery money; it’ll help pay next month’s rent.”

Card leaned over the bar, getting close to Jerry and said in a low voice, “There’ll be more money for your delivery service next week. Frankie is coming back from Canada and driving through Vermont very early Tuesday morning. We’ll need you to make another delivery to Hirschmanns on Wednesday. Can you handle it.?”

“Yeah,” Jerry said, sliding an ashtray closer to him, “that should be no problem. I know there’s nothing on my calendar for that day.”

Card smiled. “Good. That makes it much easier for us to transfer some merchandise.”

I bet it does. You and The Boys will wonder what hit you when the other shoe falls.

Jerry had just stepped in and was closing the door to his apartment when the phone started to ring. I hope it’s Lois — please let it be Lois. “Hello,” Jerry answered.

“Hi, Jer, how are you doing?” It was Lois!

“I’m doing a lot better now that you’ve called,” Jerry said as he sat down and started taking off his shoes. “What’s going on with you?”

“In a nutshell, Mom’s better and I’ll be back with you around noon the day after tomorrow.”

“I’ve really missed you Lois and Saturday can’t come soon enough.”

“I’ve missed you a lot, too, Jerry, and I’m looking for a good old Western roundup welcome home Saturday night,” Lois said in a sexy voice.

“I hear you loud and clear,” Jerry said, leaning down and untying the second shoe. “Call me just as soon as you can when you get home and are settled.”

“I’ll call you the moment I walk into the kitchen. Good night, hon. See you Saturday”

“Good night and sweet dreams, Lois.”

* * *

Jerry called the lab manager first thing in the morning. He was glad to hear that Kitty was interested in the possible modeling job and told Jerry that his customer was supposed to be in and pick up a print order. He’d have the man call Jerry for further details. It was near noon when the man called and said he thought the photos of Kitty were exceptional and that he’d like to offer her a contract based on what he saw in the photos. He gave Jerry his name, business name and address and phone number and asked that Kitty call him early next week. Jerry assured him that Kitty would call.

Jerry went into the main room by the Famous Door that evening so he could talk with Kitty without having others listening in on their conversation.

“What,” Kitty exclaimed, “he offered me a contract without even seeing or talking with me? Jerry, that is nothing short of fantastic!”

“Here’s the information,” Jerry said and handed her the note. “Be sure to call him early in the week. He’s anxious to have you model for him.”

“You bet I will, sir,” Kitty replied with a salute. “I’ll call him Monday morning. — I do have one favor to ask of you. I don’t have a car, so would you take me there when he wants to see me?”

“I think I could squeeze that into my tight schedule,” Jerry answered with a wink and a smile. “We’ve gotta get you out of this place so you can pursue your dream.”

“Thanks, Jerry. Thanks a lot. I better get back to work and start saving up to buy a car. See you later.” Kitty strode off with fresh optimism as she headed for the bar to troll for a john.

* *

To kill time and, besides, the place did need to be cleaned, Jerry spent Saturday morning spiffing up his apartment, darkroom and studio. He took time for lunch and as he was rinsing the dishes the phone rang.

“I’m home, Jerry,” Lois said, “and I hope you’ll come over soon.”

“Your wish is my command,” he answered, drying his hands on his shirt at the same time. “I’m leaving now and I’ll see you real soon. I’ll probably make it in record time!”

Although Jerry drove faster than usual, it seemed to him like an eternity before he arrived.

Lois was waiting at the kitchen door and as soon as he walked in they wrapped their arms around each other, kissing long and hard.

Coming up for air, Lois said, “I’ve missed you so much, Jerry, that my knees are weak — I can hardly stand up!”

“I think we share the same problem,” Jerry whispered in her ear.

“Let’s solve the problem right now,” Lois replied and lightly bit his lower lip.

Their places at the Tree House bar were open when Lois and Jerry walked in that evening.

“Welcome back, Lois,” Card said and set their drinks on the bar. “We missed seeing you with Jerry, but we managed to keep him occupied.”

“Thanks, Card, it’s great to be back. — How did you keep him occupied?” Lois asked a bit suspiciously.

“Jerry can tell you a lot better than I can,” he answered and moved along the bar to wait on other customers.

Looking at Jerry with squinty eyes, Lois asked, “What kept you occupied?”

“Oh, not too much. I made a delivery in Hamden, Connecticut, for Card and the Boys, and helped a girl get a modeling job. No biggies,” Jerry answered coolly and scratched his ear.

“No biggies? The Boys used you and you got some girl a modeling job in the short time I was gone? Jerry, you have some explaining to do,” Lois said, somewhat irritated, and took her cigarettes from her purse.

Jerry touched lightly on the delivery, but went into full detail about Kitty and the modeling connection. Lois was satisfied with his explanations and reaffirmed her trust in him. After a couple of drinks and a good dinner, they were ready to leave.

“Let’s get undressed and go for a ride on the range,” Lois said anxiously.

“I can do that,” Jerry replied, helping Lois unbutton her blouse.

In moments they were all over each other and Lois said, “Ride me, Cowboy, ride me now.”

Chapter Nine

Jerry arrived a few minutes early at the Strathmore parking lot and discovered Mark had already arrived.

Mark reached over and unlocked the door so Jerry could get in. “Got your call, Jerry — sorry I wasn’t able to get back to you. What’s going on?” Mark got out a pen and opened his notebook.

“I was quite busy last week and I have a lot of information for you, so I hope you have enough time to write it down,” Jerry answered, repositioning himself in the seat and pulling his pant legs away from his crotch to relieve the binding pressure.

“There’s plenty of time to spare this morning, so let’s hear it.” Mark readied his pen on the notepad.

Jerry explained in full detail his experiences at the Famous Door, Kitty, the delivery, the man who was beaten and Frankie’s pending return from Canada.

“Whew, you have had a busy week!” Mark said, setting down his notepad and pen. He reached into the back seat and retrieved a quart thermos bottle and paper cups. “Let’s have a coffee break before we continue.”

“That sounds good to me,” Jerry replied and fished out a cigarette from his pack.

As they drank their coffee, Mark observed, “Man, it’s unbelievable how you keep falling into so many different situations! It’s incredible how people keep opening up to you and revealing so much information.”

“I guess I lead a charmed life,” Jerry shrugged.

“I can’t tell you often enough how valuable you are to our investigation of the Mob. What Kitty told you about what’s going on at the Famous Door is new information for us. I believe it’s a major piece of the puzzle we’ve been looking for in conjunction with hijackings of trucks hauling liquor. We have a long way to go in this part of our overall investigation, and I have a feeling that you will probably be soaking up more information on this as time goes by. What she told you about the distribution of drugs is most interesting, too. The problem with tracking drugs is the elusive underground network and the number of people involved. It’s quite a challenge for us to find who’s at the top of the chain, but I think what you’ve discovered so far is going to help us narrow the search.”

“Shall we continue?” Jerry queried as they downed the last of their coffee.

“Yes, we still have a lot of ground to cover,” Mark replied as he put the thermos bottle on the back seat. “I think you have covered the Famous Door and Kitty about as thoroughly as we may expect. If she you offers more information, let me know, but don’t push to learn more. You have to protect yourself by maintaining your innocent appearance, which seems to be working quite well.”

“Yeah, that’s me,” Jerry answered with a grin, “Mr. Know-Nothing.”

Looking at Jerry, Mark said, “I’m a little more than concerned about what’s going on at Hirschmanns. They are a well-respected Jewish family in the New Haven area. From what I know, they run a clean business. The only thing I can surmise at this point is that The Boys are using Hirschmanns as a transfer point, which would explain the early delivery. What really concerns me is what connection Dominic has, who is he, and why you were followed by the Imperial. I have a gut feeling that one of the Mob families in New York City is trying to get a handle on what’s going on at Hirschmanns and how they can get into it. Then, too, my question is: how did they learn of it?”

“That could be a hard one for me to penetrate,” Jerry said, rubbing his ear.

“I don’t expect you to dig into it,” Mark explained. “This is something for our agents to work on. You, however, provided a valuable service through your observation and reporting. Just keep doing what you’re doing and keep falling into situations — don’t try to create them. Remember, you’re more valuable to us alive than dead.”

Jerry looked at Mark, “Yeah. Me, too.

Marked was tentative. “Is there any way that you can get a picture of Dominic? I realize it could be difficult because you just can’t go up to him and say that you want his photo for your scrapbook.”

Jerry mulled over the question for a few moments, then replied, “I have an idea that just might work. I’ll start carrying my Nikon with me, which I should anyway….” His voice trailed off as he went through the sequence of events in his mind: When I go there again I’ll hold the camera close to the right side of my face and shoot into the side view mirror and hope to at least get his face, if not his whole body in the picture.. It’s worth a try. “I’ll try my best for you, Mark.”

“Good. That’s all I can ask. — Moving on to the next matter, we can’t let those two men burn down the cabinet maker’s business. I know the fire chief in Springfield and I’ll meet with him and report what is possibly going to happen. He’ll have to try to figure out who the guy is and then he’ll work with the police chief, who, by the way, isn’t corrupt like some of the men on the force. If they can put it together, then two of The Boys will end up in prison for awhile.”

“It won’t break my heart if they spend time breaking rocks with sledge hammers,” Jerry quipped. “They deserve everything they get for their cruelty.”

“It looks like the last item of business is Frankie’s Christmas tree haul from Canada. From what you’ve told me so far, is there anything more to add?”

“No, I think I told you everything. I’m guessing that they’ll offload the trees from the semi-trailer at Frankie’s junkyard and then transfer whatever is being smuggled to his stake truck and then take the merchandise to the Tree House.”

“The Boys appear to have an established connection at the border if their smuggling operation has an easy access to enter the States,” Mark observed and made additional notes. “If we can’t get an agent up there by tonight and observe what transpires, then we’ll have to wait until you know of another trip. — By the way, if you need to reach me this week, don’t try. I’ll be away, so we’ll have to wait until next Monday to go over any urgent matters.

“Oh, by the way, Jerry, if these guys give you any money for errands, never, and I mean never ever tell me they gave you money or mention any sum of money you may get from them for any reason. Do I need to explain it to you?”

“No. I’m sure there are several considerations, but I will just leave it at staying silent.”

* * *

Tuesday evening arrived and Jerry drove to the Tree House.

“Hi, Jerry,” Card greeted and set a coaster on the bar. “Where’s Lois tonight?”

Jerry settled into the barstool and answered, “She has some things to do at home and didn’t know if she’ll have time to come in.”

The door opened and Jerry hoped it was Lois. He turned and looked — no such luck; however, four of The Boys came in and went to the other side of the bar, their usual places to sit.

Oh great! The Boys are here and no Lois. Maybe I should call her. Naw, that wouldn’t be a good idea. I don’t want to interfere with her plans.

Card went over to take The Boys’ drink order. One of them leaned over and spoke with Card and he nodded his head in agreement. The four got up and headed for the door separating the bar from the back and basement doors. They returned after several minutes, sat down, had drinks and talked with Card. They left after finishing the drinks.

Shortly after they left Card leaned over the bar and asked Jerry, “Can you make a delivery for The Boys tomorrow morning?”

Scratching his ear and thinking, Jerry then answered, “Sure. I have nothing pending. What time do you want me here and where will I be going?”

Leaning closer and speaking softly, Card replied, “Be here at five and you’ll go to Hirschmanns again. You have to be out of there by seven at the very latest.”

“Okay, it’s a deal. I better head for my digs so I can get a good night’s sleep.” Jerry finished off his beer and departed.

Jerry backed up to the back door of the Tree House, got out and knocked on the door promptly at five. Card must have been standing right there because he opened the door as soon as Jerry finished knocking.

“C’mon in, Jerry,” Card greeted with his usual friendly smile. “We have everything ready to load.” Jerry knew the grouch was there because of the green DeSoto parked next to Card’s black Cadillac.

“Let’s get started,” Jerry said and reached for a cardboard box from the top of the stack of identical boxes.

Each box was about five feet long, two feet or so wide and about eight inches deep. He didn’t see any printing or markings on the box. The boxes filled the cargo area of Jerry’s panel truck.

“Drive safe (safely, Jerry mentally corrected),” Card said with a wave of his hand, “and I’ll see you tonight. You will be in, won’t you?”

“I plan to be in,” Jerry replied as he opened the door and slid in behind the wheel. “I should arrive around five and then Lois will be in later after she gets out of a meeting.”

“Good. I’ll have an envelope for you then. The Boys forgot to give it to me last night. Incidentally, my wife should be in tonight and she’ll be wearing the mink coat that The Boys gave me to give to her. It’s an appreciation gift for my helping them out.”

“Thanks, Card! It’ll be good to meet her,” Jerry said and started the engine. Guess I know now what Frankie was hiding under the Christmas trees. I’m hauling a small fortune’s worth of furs to Hirschmanns. Who knows where they may be going from there.

Jerry eased onto route twenty and it wasn’t too long until he was headed south on the interstate. Just south of the Wethersfield, Connecticut, exit he spotted a black Chrysler Imperial stopped on the breakdown lane. He slowed to look at the license plate: it was from New York and he memorized the number; he was certain it was the same car that had followed him earlier. The car caught up with him just as he passed the next exit. He heard a horn honking and he looked to his left and the car was next to him and in it were the driver and another man in the front passenger’s seat. The man motioned with his thumb for Jerry to pull over. Jerry played the innocent role and smiled and waved at the man and then looked forward and continued watching the highway. Again he heard the horn and looked to his left. This time the man pointed a pistol at Jerry and motioned for him to pull over.

Now what? Are these goons going to shoot me and take my truck with its cargo?

Jerry slowed down and the car pulled in behind him. By the time he had come to a stop, Jerry had removed the lens cap from his camera, prefocused it and held the camera in his lap. He had pulled far enough to the right that he hoped the men would come to his side of the truck. He had shifted to first gear and kept his foot on the clutch. Fortunately, he was stopped on a level area and didn’t have to keep his foot on the brake. He opened his door slightly to make the men think that he was ready to get out. Jerry brought the camera up close to the right side of his face and moved a fraction to his left, hoping to get a clear shot. Both men got out of their car and as they approached Jerry he took the picture, set the camera on the passenger seat, and took off. He saw the men run back to their car.

Jerry was still in third gear when he hit ninety and then shifted into fourth. The Imperial was far behind him. The next exit was just a short distance away and he headed up the ramp and slowed down enough to see that he was clear to make a right turn. He drove a short distance, where he found a road on his left that was hidden by a grove of trees. He stopped several yards back from the highway and waited ten minutes for his rapidly racing heart to slow down and to see if the New York goons were looking for him. They didn’t drive past.

With no sign of the car Jerry arrived at Hirschmanns in about twenty-five minutes. Not to his surprise, the Imperial was parked on a side street across from Hirschmanns. As soon as he had backed into the loading dock, he picked up his camera and positioned his head and camera in readiness for Dominic. He saw the service door open slowly; Dominic looked around and walked toward Jerry. Jerry scootched down and slightly to his left and shot into his side view mirror when he thought the time was right. He quickly set the camera down and got out and went around to open the back doors.

“Everything go okay?” Dominic asked, with just a bit of surprise in his voice.

“Yeah, it did,” Jerry answered as he swung the doors open. “Shouldn’t it have gone okay?”

“Wh-wh-why sure,” Dominic stammered, trying to regain his composure. “Those are pretty big boxes you’re hauling. Wait just a minute while I get a hand truck to put them on.”

Why didn’t you bring it out when you came — or weren’t you expecting me to be here? I think I know the connection and why I’ve been followed. Mark is going to find this very interesting, I’m sure!

With the transfer completed, Jerry took off. This time the Imperial didn’t follow him.

Jerry got busy in the darkroom and developed the film. While it was hanging to dry he looked at the negatives and was happy to see that he had recorded the faces and most of their bodies. As soon as the film was dry he put the negatives in the enlarger and cranked it as high as it would go. He was able to print four by fives and made six copies of each frame. After drying the prints he looked closely at them and was satisfied that the faces were clear and sharp; the grain pattern was tight and he knew Mark would be glad to have the prints.

“How did the delivery go?” Card asked Jerry as he sat down on the barstool and Card set out a beer and the pay envelope.

“There was a potential problem, Card,” he answered while pouring his beer, “and I think Benny should hear about it soon.”

“I’ll call him right away,” Card replied with a tone of immediacy in his voice and he went to the phone. He returned in a couple of minutes and said, “Benny said he’s on his way and two of The Boys will be with him.” Card had no further questions about the delivery but did ask when Lois would be in.

“She thought the meeting should be over by six thirty, which should get her here by seven,” Jerry replied as he got out a cigarette and pulled the ashtray closer.

“Good. I would rather she didn’t know that you’ll be meeting Benny and The Boys so she don’t ask you questions about it,” Card said with a sigh of relief. “You’ll meet with them in my office and you should be back here before she arrives.”

Nodding, Jerry said, “I hope so. She doesn’t have to know about anything I do to help you guys.” If you only knew, Card, if you only knew!

Benny and The Boys must have broken every speed law to get to the Tree House as it only took about twenty minutes to get there after Card’s call. One of The Boys was the grouch; the other was Mister Blue Suit. They immediately went into Card’s office. Card went back to the bar to wait on customers.

“What happened, Jerry? What’s the problem with your delivery this morning?” Benny asked with great concern. He lit a fresh cigar.

“Well, just south of Wethersfield a black Chrysler Imperial followed me and the guy in the passenger seat pointed a gun at me and made me pull over. I got a quick look at the license plate and I’m pretty sure it was from New York. I pulled over and stopped and when I could see that both were out of their car I took off like a scared rabbit, got lucky enough to outrun them in my old rattle-trap and got off at the next exit and hid for a while. After several minutes I thought they were gone so I continued on to Hirschmanns. When Dominic came out he acted a bit surprised that I was there with the delivery. We unloaded, I left, and I returned. Because of what happened, I felt you should know about it. I do believe I covered everything.” Jerry sat back in his chair and took a deep breath to relax.

After a slow draw on his cigar, Benny said, “You did the right thing, Jerry, and I’m very glad that you told us about it. This is a problem, that’s for sure. You can go now, but if you think of anything else or if you run into problems in the future, be sure to let Card know so he can call me. I also want to tell you that you have our trust and we appreciate your honesty in telling us about problems. Your attention to detail by noticing the license plate is very professional.”

“Thanks, Benny. Paying attention to detail is very important to be a successful professional photographer,” he answered modestly. Yeah, I’ll be gathering enough details about you clowns so that you’ll be put away in the cooler for a long, long time or until death do you part from it, whichever comes first.

As Jerry was closing the door he heard Benny tell the other two to call Joe Patriarca in Providence and report what had happened and who was involved.

Back at the bar he discovered Angie was sitting in his place. She got up when he was close and said, “Hi, Jerry. I was just keeping your barstool warm. Ya know, with this chilly weather it takes time to warm up these vinyl seats!” Moving in closer to rub against him, she said, “I have something else to warm you up if you want to.”

“Ang, you’re incorrigible,” Jerry said with a laugh and picked up his glass to finish off the last swallow. “You just never give up, do you?”

Card brought Jerry a fresh beer and said, “This is on Benny. He is very grateful for your report. As a matter of fact, neither you nor Lois will pay for any drinks tonight. Benny gave me enough money to get you guys completely tanked, if you choose!”

As Benny and The Boys were leaving, Jerry saw them, waved and said, “Thanks for the drinks, Benny. We’ll enjoy them.”

“Think nothing of it,” he said with a wave. “Enjoy!”

They were barely out the door when Lois came in. Jerry got up and pulled the barstool out for her and Card had her drink on the bar before she was seated.

“Thanks, Card. Hi, Ang,” she said, heaving a sigh of relief as she settled and sat back on the stool. “Oh — ‘Hi’ to you, too, Jer. I’m so glad to be out of that meeting. I thought it would never end. I’m tired, more like mentally exhausted, and I really need to relax. I’m sure a drink or three will help that. By the way, Hon, I didn’t see you pay for my drink. Are you on Card’s drink-for-free list or something? You don’t even have any money out on the bar. — Wait; don’t tell me, I just saw Benny and The Boys leave. I bet they bought us appreciation drinks because you’re making deliveries for them.”

Jerry squirmed a little and replied, “Yeah, in a nutshell, I guess you could say that. Cigarette?” Jerry offered; Lois reached for the ashtray.

They sat silently for a few minutes watching the smoke drift across the bar. Lois seemed to be somewhat preoccupied and then she finally said, “Jer, tonight’s meeting was about an offer that came from a university in London, England. They heard about what we are doing at the school and specifically about my role. They contacted our school’s president and asked if I could teach for a year at their university. This is long-term planning and won’t happen for another year or so. I’m honored by the request, but I don’t know what to do. The meeting was mainly informational with no immediate decision expected. Our administrators and I are going to think about it and talk it over later. What makes the decision difficult for me is that if I were to go there, I’d be without you and I don’t want to be away from you. On the other side of the coin it would be an exciting opportunity and challenge. Teaching others to teach the children was never in my overall plans, but now that the offer is there, I’m looking at it differently. There is no doubt in my mind that teaching deaf children to lip read and speak will help them function more easily and more productively in the hearing world. Jerry, I just don’t know what to do. What would you do if you were in my position?”

Trying to be as supportive as possible, Jerry answered, “I don’t know what to say, Lois, except that you should keep in mind what’s best for Lois. I know that’s a pretty general response, but it’s true: you have to do what you, and only you, know is best. I won’t be selfish or controlling and tell you that I want you to stay here. If you decide to go, I’ll miss you terribly, but I’ll know that you’ll be going there for all the right reasons.”

Lois leaned over and kissed Jerry on the cheek. “Thanks, hon. You always seem to know the right thing to say at the right time. I feel so much better now that we’ve talked about it that I think I can finally relax. I still don’t know which way to go, but I feel my mind is cleared enough to look at this objectively and make a decision in a month or so.”

After looking at his watch, Jerry said, “It’s only a little after seven thirty. Should we go to your house or do you have plans?”

Lois yawned, “I think I’ll go home, have a long soak in a warm tub and then go to bed. I hate to be a wet blanket, but I’m just plain tired.”

“That’s okay,” Jerry said and stretched. “I’m kinda tired, too. It’s been a long day and I could stand to catch a few extra z’s.”

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around six?” Lois said as she got off the barstool and started to put on her coat. “I’ll have dinner ready and then maybe we could come here for a couple of drinks.”

“That sounds like a good plan to me,” Jerry answered, pouring the rest of the beer from the bottle into his glass. “I’ll see you then. Have a safe trip home.”

Jerry stood up and kissed Lois goodnight.

Chapter Ten

“Glad to see you could make it in tonight,” Card teased while setting coasters on the bar for [cap2] Lois and Jerry. “My wife didn’t come in last night, Jerry, but she thought she’d make it this evening.” He got their drinks and went down the bar to wait on other customers.

“What’s the deal about his wife?” Lois wanted to know as she stirred her drink with the swizzle stick.

Leaning toward her, Jerry said in a low voice, “Card gave her a mink coat that The Boys gave him in appreciation of his helping them. I’m quite sure it was smuggled in from Canada with a lot of other furs that Frankie had covered with Christmas trees.”

“Oh, yeah. I remember seeing The Boys’ conversation about it,” Lois responded softly. “I’m no detective, but I wonder how they get through border customs without being caught.”

Scratching his head, Jerry replied, “That’s the sixty-four thousand dollar question. They seem to get away with a lot of things, but I’m sure that in time the cops will catch up with them. The Boys seem to thrive on cat-and-mouse games, thinking that they’ll always beat the odds of getting caught.”

Benny and three of The Boys came in and went to the other side of the bar. Card went to them immediately.

Lois watched them and then said to Jerry, “Card will be coming over here to ask you to go see Benny. Nothing was said as to why he wants to see you. I’ll keep an eye on the conversation for you.”

Sure enough, Card approached Jerry, leaned over the bar and said, “Benny wants to see you for a minute.”

“Okay. I can spare a few minutes out of my busy drinking schedule,” Jerry said with a smile, got off his barstool and went to the other side. This is kind of weird for Benny wanting to talk with me at the bar instead of in Card’s office. I’m guessing that it’s nothing big — nothing to do with the latest delivery.

“Jerry, my boy,” Benny said, placing his hand on Jerry’s shoulder, “I’d like to have you come to my house and photograph my family this Sunday afternoon. I’m going to send Christmas cards to all my friends and I thought it would be good to include a family photo. Also, I’d like to have it done in color instead of black and white. Can you do this?”

“Certainly! When do you want to schedule it, and may I bring Lois to help with the session?”

“Bring her with you. She did a fine job of assisting you at the wedding.” Taking a piece of paper and pen from his pocket, Benny wrote down his address, in an elite neighborhood on Springfield’s south side. “Be there about three.”

Jerry reached out to shake hands with Benny and said, “Thanks, Benny. We’ll be there on time and I’m sure we’ll get photos that you’ll like.”

“Yes, I’m free Sunday afternoon,” Lois said when Jerry sat down. “I think it’ll be fun going into a mobster’s home and seeing how glitzy it is.”

“I thought you’d like to go with me. I have no idea how large his family is and if it includes grandchildren. If so, it will really make it a challenge. I’m sure that your assistance will be a big help in watching people and keeping their attention on the session,” Jerry said as he wiggled in the barstool to be more comfortable.

A drop-dead-gorgeous lady came in and sat by Lois. The lady was wearing a mink coat.

Card came over and said, “Jerry, Lois, I want you to meet my wife, Antoinette.”

“Pleased to meet you, Antoinette,” they said together.

“It’s nice meeting you, too,” she answered and slipped the mink coat off her shoulders.

“That is a beautiful coat,” Lois said and reached over to feel it. “I wouldn’t mind having one like it.”

“Uh, Lois, I don’t think I could afford it,” Jerry said.

Lois wrinkled her nose with a smile and replied, “Just start saving your money and maybe you can surprise me with one next Christmas.”

“Card gave me this as an early Christmas present,” Antoinette said with a toss of her head to push back her shoulder-length black hair. “He is so good to me. I sure don’t know where he got the money to buy it,” she said with a laugh. “Maybe the furrier gave him a big discount.”

Yeah, he sure did get a big discount — a really big discount and he never saw a furrier. Obviously, she has no clue as to what Card does besides peddle drinks, but that’s the way The Boys do business. Their wives are kept totally in the dark.

Antoinette got up, leaving her coat on the barstool, and went to the end of the bar to visit with friends.

“Is there any action on the other side of the bar?” Jerry asked Lois, pushing his beer bottle to the back of the bar, indicating that he wanted another.

“Not really. I’ve been watching them occasionally and they aren’t saying much, except to swap jokes,” Lois replied and tugged on her skirt to keep it over her knees.

Card returned with drinks for Lois and Jerry.

“That’s a beautiful mink coat that you gave your wife,” Lois commented as she reached for her drink.

“Yeah, it’s an early Christmas present that I wanted her to have,” Card said, winking at Jerry.

“Lois wants one,” Jerry said, “but I told her I can’t afford to buy her one right now.”

“Save your pennies, Cowboy,” Lois teased, “and you can get me one next Christmas.”

Card laughed, “These coats are quite expensive, Lois. I think he’ll have to save more than pennies!”

Lois excused herself to visit the ladies’ room. While she was gone Card leaned over to talk with Jerry.

“Lois doesn’t know anything about what’s going on, does she?” Card asked Jerry.

“No. She doesn’t have a clue and that’s the best way to keep a secret.”

“Thanks, Jerry. We appreciate your cooperation and silence,” Card said with a tone of relief.

Sitting back down, Lois said, “Let’s finish our drinks. I’m rather tired and I need a good night’s sleep.

They bid adieu to the Tree House, Jerry took Lois home and then went back to his home.

* * *

After getting cleaned up Saturday morning to prepare for the day, Jerry heard the phone ring. “Hello, this is Jerry,” he answered while sliding one arm into his shirt.

“Hello. I have an appointment scheduled with you for Monday morning. May I change it to the same time on Tuesday?” the lady asked.

“Sure, that’ll be fine. I’ll look for you then.”

He had barely placed the receiver on its cradle when the phone rang again. What’s goin’ on here? My phone hardly ever rings.

“Hello, this is Jerry,” he answered again.

“Hi, hon. How’re you doing this morning?”

“Doing fine so far. I’ll be better after I get all my clothes on,” Jerry said, putting his arm into the other shirt sleeve. “What’s up, sweets?”

“I’m guessing you haven’t had breakfast or even a cup of coffee yet.”

“Nothing so far, but I’m seriously thinking of it.”

“Come on over and I’ll have the coffee ready by the time you get here and maybe we can fix breakfast together. We need to talk for a while and this is a good time.”

“I’ll be leaving in about three minutes, which is about how long as it’ll take me to finish getting dressed,” he answered while stretching to reach his trousers.

Light snow was beginning to fall when Jerry closed the apartment door and walked to his truck. I hope this weather doesn’t turn into anything major. I haven’t taken the time to put on the snow tires. If this is anything like Minnesota, when a snowfall starts lightly, it usually builds and goes all day and much of the night. I’m not too crazy about driving in four or five inches of snow with summer tires on this buggy.

“Oh, look — it’s the cowboy snowman!” Lois said with a giggle when Jerry walked into the kitchen.

“Yeah,” he said, stomping the snow from his shoes on the entryway rug, “I have a feeling we’re gonna be in for several inches of this stuff before it’s all over.”

“Take off your coat and cap, pull up a chair and have some coffee,” Lois ordered as she filled his cup.

After taking a sip, Jerry said, “Wow! This is really flavorful. Mrs. Olson has nothing over you when it comes to good coffee.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it. I hope you like waffles with Vermont maple syrup.”

Jerry leaned back in his chair, took another sip of coffee and said, “Waffles with Vermont maple syrup? That’s considered a delicacy back home — Vermont maple syrup, that is. In a word, yes, and I hope you have plenty of batter. I can really put ’em away!”

Lois reached into the cupboard and started gathering the ingredients. “I hope a double batch will satisfy your hunger. Would you fry the bacon, Cowboy Barney? There’s a pound package in the ’fridge and I would hope that half of it will be enough to fill us.”

Jerry found the frying pan, put it on the stove, pulled the bacon apart and then arranged the slices in the pan with precision..

They sat quietly for several moments at the breakfast bar, preparing their waffles and spearing bacon from the small platter. Lois covered a long, deep yawn. After having another sip of coffee, Jerry asked, “Lois, you seemed a bit preoccupied. What did you want to talk about?”

Lois took a bite of waffles, slowly chewed it and then answered, “I didn’t sleep a wink last night. All I could think about was the offer to teach in England and I mentally wrestled with it all night.” She paused for several seconds.

“And?” Jerry quizzed and reached for another piece of bacon.

Lois took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “I think I’ve decided to accept the offer. — Oh, Jerry, I’m still a little confused about this,” she said as tears ran down her cheeks.

Jerry turned to her, held her face between his hands and gently wiped away the tears with his thumbs. “To me, sweetie, you made the right decision.”

Surprised, Lois said, “I did? Jerry, I was so worried that you wouldn’t want me to leave you. I know it won’t be until the summer of ’69, so we’ll still have more than a year and a half together.”[cap3]

Jerry replied, removing his hands from her face, and looked straight into her eyes, “Lois, this isn’t about me. It’s about you. It’s about the preparation of future teachers. But most of all, it’s about the future for children who may not otherwise have the chance for a better life in the hearing world.” He paused for a few moments, scratched his head and then continued, “You got an education to help others. It’s like being a doctor, a nurse or a social worker. They train to help others. Me? I followed my dream, but like many other people, my job is performing a service where I’m not helping them, but only get paid for what I deliver. You get paid for what you deliver, but what you deliver is a benefit to your students. Now there’s an opportunity for you to help spread the benefit even further. — Let me put it this way: What you’ll be doing is like a tree. You’re the trunk, the future teachers in your class are the branches and the children are the leaves. What greater reward is there than sharing your gift with others?”

Lois was crying again. She leaped up and threw her arms around Jerry, giving him a huge hug. “Honey, you always know the right thing to say. Where would I be without you? You’ve been my rock at the times when I felt like sponge.”

Jerry hugged Lois and said, “The least I can do is look at things from my perspective and give you support. Isn’t that what friendship is all about?”

Sighing and sitting down, Lois said, “I feel so relieved. It’s like a huge weight has been lifted from me.”

“I had a feeling when you told me about the offer the other night that you would act on it soon, rather than mull it over for a few weeks,” Jerry said and reached for the coffee pot. There was an ache in his heart. Jerry tried to shrug it off, be pragmatic about it - it really wasn’t in the cards from the beginning. He would get over it, and he had a year or so to get his mind straight. In the meantime he would enjoy her company and some really good sex. Sure. That’s how it would be.

“It was a big decision and I just couldn’t get it out of my mind. Would you pour me some more, too, please?” Lois asked and slid her cup toward Jerry.

He filled her cup and then asked, “What’s on your agenda for today?”

“I have some shopping to do this morning — girl things, so I won’t ask you to go with me. This afternoon I have to clean the house. I haven’t touched it for almost two weeks and it shows. How ’bout you? What are your plans for today?”

“Not much. I have a little darkroom work to do and then I might stop at the Tree House.”

They finished off all the waffles and bacon and had one more cup of coffee.

Jerry set his cup down and asked Lois, “What about tonight? Do you any ideas as to what you’d like to do?”

Lois pondered the questions for several moments, “If you don’t mind too much, Hon, I think I’ll be ready for a short, quiet evening alone and go to bed early. Last night’s marathon and the relief I feel now after talking with you has left me feeling tired — drained, really.”

“That’s fine with me. I could probably stand to get a decent night’s sleep, too. After all, we have the big photo shoot tomorrow afternoon and we want to be ready for that. I’ll pick you up around two,” Jerry said as he opened the back door.

Lois yawned, “I’ll be ready.”

Jerry closed the door and went back to Lois, hugged her and gave her a goodbye kiss.

“Thanks, Cowboy, I needed that,” Lois whispered and walked with him to the door.

Deteriorating road conditions forced Jerry to stop thinking of the prospects of Lois being gone during the drive home and by the time he was at the studio he felt a little less heartbroken.

“Look at that!” Angie exclaimed when Jerry walked into the Tree House. “The Bobbsie Twin without the other Bobbsie Twin!”

Sitting down, Jerry replied, “C’mon, Ang, give me a break. We don’t go everywhere together.”

“Beer?”

“Yup.”

Leaning way down to expose her cleavage when she opened the bottle, Angie said, “It’s just as well that you’re alone. I have something to tell you and Lois doesn’t have to know about the things we talk about.”

“You are so right about that. Fire away,” Jerry said as he poured the beer into his glass.

“This is really confidential, so you have to keep it to yourself,” Angie said, leaning on the bar to be closer to Jerry.

“You know I always keep things to myself,” Jerry said confidentially, leaning in toward Angie. It’s not as if it had to be a big secret since they were the only two in the bar.

Still leaning toward Jerry, Angie said softly, “A friend of mine that works in the Springfield Police Department called me this morning to tell me that two of The Boys got caught last night trying to torch some guy’s business. He thought the guy probably owed The Boys money and didn’t pay up on time so they were gonna teach him a lesson. The cops must have heard about it somehow because they were hiding nearby and arrested the two after they threw gas or something on the building and were getting ready to light matches.”

“I wonder how the cops found out?” Jerry said in pretended astonishment.

“That’s a damn good question,” Angie replied as she got out her lighter when Jerry took out a cigarette. “It can’t be the guy because he knows what will happen to him if he rats to the cops, and he certainly won’t let his wife say anything because The Boys would take it out on the family. It’s a mystery and The Boys will probably feel a bit spooked for a while, not knowing how the cops found out about what they’re doing.”

“Wow!” Jerry said, tapping ashes into the ashtray. “That’s quite a story. Yeah, I can see why they’d be a bit paranoid when they’re so secretive about — what they call — their business dealings. Are they in jail now?”

Angie stood up straight and answered, “They’ll be there ’til Monday because The Boys’ lawyer is out of town and won’t be back until then so he can bail them out.”

“Maybe that’ll give them some time to think about their misdeeds and change their ways in life.”

Angie laughed hard and then said, “Jerry! Maybe you don’t have a clue, but when they get sacked like that they usually try to figure out a different way to get even so they won’t get caught. Believe me, they’ll be on this guy like a coat of paint! What’s more, they’ll do their damnedest to try and figure out who ratted on them.”

With his usual innocent look, Jerry asked, “How in the world are they going to figure out who did the ratting if they know it’s not the intended victim or his wife? It sounds to me like they’ll need a crystal ball — and we know that’s only mythical.”

Angie stretched and agreed, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But I’ll guarantee you that they will try real hard to find out.”

Chapter Eleven

“Who says crime doesn’t pay!” Lois exclaimed as they drove into the driveway toward a Tudor mansion.

“Yeah. Wow!” Jerry agreed as he slowed to park near the front door. There were five cars parked near the three-car garage. “Looks like there may be a family gathering and I hope it’s the immediate family and not his so-called business associates.”

Jerry and Lois unloaded the equipment and went to Benny’s door, where Benny met them and greeted, “Welcome to my humble abode. Come in and meet my family.” Benny normally wore a nice suit whenever he was at Tree House. Today’s suit was obviously for special occasions. Jerry observed the signs of hand tailoring and expensive cloth.

After the introductions to Benny’s wife, children and grandchildren, Jerry started setting up his camera, tripod and portable studio lights. Lois took it upon herself to organize the family and get everyone in place.

Jerry noticed that Benny had gone to the built-in bookshelves and carefully removed an ornate vase, which he then gently set on an end table by the couch. Benny sat on the couch by the vase.

“That’s a beautiful vase,” Jerry commented while cranking the tripod to raise the camera.

“It’s from my boss,” Benny replied, reaching over to move the vase forward a few inches. “He gave it to me as a get-well gift when I was in the hospital last year.”

“Well, it seemed to work,” Jerry said with a smile. “I can see that you’re quite healthy now.”

The session went well. After eight exposures, Jerry said, “I’m sure there are several good shots on the film, so I don’t think we need to take anymore. Everyone, especially the children, was really good to follow directions and had good expressions. I know you’ll have a picture that you can be proud of to send with your Christmas cards, Benny.”

Standing up, Benny asked, “Is there any film left in your camera, Jerry?”

“There is. I have four more exposures available on this roll and I can always load more.” Jerry responded as he unscrewed the camera from the tripod. “Do you want something more?”

Benny again carefully picked up the vase and said, “Yes, I’d like to have you take a picture of me by the bookcase — kind of like those executive portraits that hang on corporate office walls.” He walked over to the bookcase and set the vase in its place and stood by it, ready to be photographed.

Jerry moved the lights into position, picked up the camera, directed Benny for the pose and took three pictures. Acting on a feeling, Jerry moved in closer and said, “One more, Benny, a close-up and that will finish the roll.”

“Whatever you say, Jerry. You’re the pro and I can see that you’re doing a great job.”

After the final exposure, Jerry said, “I’m going to take the film to the color lab in the morning and see if they will run a set of proofs right away so I can have them ready for you tomorrow night. I’m sure you and the missus will want to get your cards mailed soon and I want to do my part to help.”

Benny shook Jerry’s hand and said, “That’s very thoughtful of you and we appreciate it. I’ll stop in at the Tree House tomorrow night around eight and pick them up. If you can’t get everything done tomorrow, have Card call and let me know when you’ll have them.”

“That’s some humble abode,” Lois commented as they drove out the driveway. “He’s got to be raking in a lot of dough to afford that place! His wife’s dress wasn’t off the rack, I can tell you that. Paris or Rome, I bet. Pretty swank for a portrait. The kids and grandkids don’t shop at Woolworths, either.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet that he makes a lot more than we can imagine and I’ll also bet that most of what he makes is tax-free cash. I think the only government that The Boys believe in is their own — the Cosa Nostra.”

* * *

“Clifford,” Jerry said to the color lab manager as he set the roll of film on the counter, “I have two huge favors to ask.[cap4]

“Go ahead and ask,” he answered as he poised his pen over the processing envelope for Jerry’s order.

“First of all, may I wait while the film is processed? I need four by five proofs on glossy paper and the first run is fine. If the color is off a little, I won’t mind. The second request is to have an eight by ten vertical print on glossy paper of the twelfth frame. First run on that one is fine, too. I’m more interested in subject matter than color rendition.”

“Jerry, for you, I’ll be glad to do it. It’s gonna take a couple hours, I hope you know,” Clifford said as he backed away from the counter.

“That’s okay with me. I’ll have breakfast across the street,” Jerry answered and turned to leave.

Breakfast was leisurely, but still only took an hour, so Jerry went back to the lab to read magazines. Another hour passed when Clifford returned to the counter. “Everything looks good, Jerry. You had the exposure densities nailed, which made it easier for us to print the negatives. I think you’ll be happy with the color.”

“Thanks, Clifford. I truly appreciate your going out of your way for me. My customer will be ordering a lot of prints to put in with his Christmas cards. I’ll be back with a big order before Friday,” Jerry promised as he picked up the envelope with his negatives and prints.

Lois walked into Jerry’s apartment Monday evening and said, “Let’s see our masterpieces from yesterday’s photo shoot.”

“Got ’em right here on the table,” Jerry answered and pulled out a chair for Lois. “You did an excellent job of getting everyone organized and I’m grateful for your assistance.”

“That was the teacher in me taking over. With hearing children you can talk to them and get them organized. However, it’s a different story with deaf children. When we have an assembly in the gymnasium most of the kids watch me for their instructions, but there are always a few who are looking around and I have to go to them to get their attention, unless one of the other kids sees me coming and gets their attention to look at me. Working with the family for the pictures was a cakewalk.”

“I should have known!” Jerry said as he opened the envelope with the four by fives and handed them to Lois.

She slowly leafed through each one and nodded in approval as she viewed them. “Every one of these is a winner. You did a fine job!”

Jerry stuffed the prints back into the envelope. “I can’t take all the credit,” “You did the arranging and posing, which saved me a lot of time. And speaking of time, it’s about time to head over to the Tree House.”

Lois and Jerry had barely gotten inside the door when Card called out and asked, “Do you have Benny’s pictures?” Jerry held up the envelope. “Good. He called to see if you were in yet, so I’ll give him a call right now.”

After they sat down, Angie asked, “What’s the big rush about Benny’s pictures?”

Jerry turned to her and replied, “He wants to put them in their Christmas cards and I’m guessing that his wife is anxious to get them in the mail.”

Card returned and said Benny was leaving right away. He set up drinks for Lois and Jerry and said, “These are on Benny, so put your money away, Jerry.”

“I guess I can’t refuse that offer,” Jerry said and poured the beer into his glass.

Not too much time had passed until Benny came in and asked Card if he could use the office, where the light was better, and he and Jerry could go over the photos. Card, of course, said yes.

“These family shots are excellent!” Benny exclaimed after viewing each one. “My wife is going to have a hard time choosing one. I like the individual photos you took of me, too, especially the last one when you got closer. I think this one,” Benny said, holding up the print, “really shows my character.”

“That it does,” Jerry agreed. “I wanted to do the last one a little different from the other three and I’m glad you like it.”

“I’m going to take these home now and have the wife see what she likes best,” Benny said as he stood up from the desk. “Will you be here for a while, just in case she can make a decision tonight and I can call and let you know which one? I think she plans on about one hundred prints. Then, too, I’d like to have a big enlargement of the one of me — the last one you took.”

Jerry scratched his head and asked, “How big do you want it? Are you going to frame it and hang it somewhere or will you frame it to set on a desk, for instance?”

Measuring with his hands, Benny said, “I’d like it about this big so I can frame it and hang it on the wall.”

“It looks like you’d want a sixteen by twenty, which would be about the same size as the calendar hanging over there,” Jerry said and pointed to the wall next to Card’s desk.

“That’s exactly what I want. Now, how soon can I get the pictures after we order? And how much will it cost?

Scratching his head again in thought, Jerry replied, “I’ll take the order to the lab just as soon as you let me know what you want and they should have it done in two or three days. I’ll see if they can bump it up in their production schedule. — Oh, now that I think of it, tell your wife that the pictures are marked on the back with the negative number. I’ll need that for the order. — The whole thing should come to about one hundred dollars. I’m giving you the preferred customer price, which is just a little bit over my cost.”

Benny reached into his pocket, pulled out a large roll of money and peeled off three one hundred dollar bills and handed them to Jerry. “Your work is excellent, my boy, and you can’t make money and stay in business by giving away the store, so take all of this.”

“Why thank you, Benny, you are most generous, to say the least,” Jerry said and pocketed the cash. “I’ll wait for your call, and if you don’t call later, I’ll be in tomorrow night and you may call me then.”

They bid goodnight and Jerry returned to the bar.

“Did he give you a big order and lots of money to help you get rich?” Lois asked, leaning close to him and giving him a devilish smile.

He reached into his pocket and pulled the three bills out, just far enough for her to see them. “I think that constitutes a move in the right direction to becoming rich,” Jerry said, pushing the bills back in place.

“Hon, if you don’t mind, I’m going to finish this drink and then go home. I have some prep work to do for one of my classes tomorrow and I need to keep my head straight,” Lois said, finishing her drink and pushing the glass to the back of the bar.

“That’s okay with me,” Jerry said as he pushed the empty bottle to the back of the bar to let Card know he was ready for another beer. “Get your work done and have a good night’s sleep, and we can connect tomorrow night.”

Jerry had two more beers and then the phone rang. It was for him. Benny placed his order.

* * *

The late fall day felt more like winter with the cold temperatures, wind and grey skies. Jerry left the engine and heater running while he waited for Mark in the Strathmore parking lot. Mark was just a few minutes late.[cap5]

“I hope you didn’t think I forgot about you,” Mark stated as Jerry slid into the passenger seat. “Something must be interesting,” Mark observed. “That’s a larger envelope than you’ve brought before.”

“One of the photos, an eight by ten, is interesting — at least it is to me. Maybe it won’t mean anything to you,” Jerry replied as he reached down toward the bottom of the envelope. “Here, I’ll show you these first so we go in order of events.” Jerry handed Mark the photos of Dominic and the two goons who stopped him on the interstate and told Mark the story, including the license plate number, which Mark wrote down, and the conversation with Benny and how Benny told his men to contact Patriarca.

“This photo,” Mark held out the one of Dominic, “and your information about Patriarca will help us solve one murder. Dominic was found dead, floating naked in Long Island Sound near New Haven. That’s where I was yesterday and couldn’t meet you. No one knew who he was and his body is in the New Haven Morgue awaiting identification. This picture will speed up the process.”

“What happened to him?”

“We speculated that he was murdered because he knew something and someone knew how to get it out of him. The used a garrote to make him talk and when they got their information, or if he refused to talk, they pulled it tight until he was dead. The mark from the wire around his neck was the giveaway.”

“That’s frightening,” Jerry said rubbing his neck. “What a horrible way to die.”

“The guys in these other photos are most likely with one of the Mafia families, such as Genovese, Bonnano and Gambino, in New York City. They’re still having their turf wars. We’ll check the plate number and see if it gives any indication; there’s always a possibility that they’re driving with stolen plates.”

Jerry took out the eight by ten and handed it to Mark and told him the story about how carefully Benny handled the vase and that it was from his boss.

“That boss,” Mark said as he looked at the picture, “is Patriarca. I’m surprised that he gave Benny such a valuable piece.”

“Why is that?” Jerry asked, craning his neck to get another look at the vase.

“Joe isn’t known for being a generous man.” Mark leaned toward Jerry and sniffed the air and said, “Yup, you did it again — fell into it and came out smelling like a rose. This is an excellent clue to help us solve another case. About three years ago, a small art gallery owned by a Greek family sold the total inventory to an art gallery in Chicago. The delivery was made in an unmarked truck, which never arrived in Chicago.

A few weeks after the truck was reported missing, it was found in the woods in western Connecticut, the driver was in the cab, quite dead from a pointblank shot in the head, and the truck was empty. The Greek owner was devastated by the news, but he was thorough prior to the delivery. He had everything insured and he had photographed every piece. This vase is from Persia and its value, I believe, is around ten grand. This photo now gives us more to work on. Up until now, we had no clue where the shipment went. Nothing has turned up in any of the usual places that fence stolen art. — Anything more for today?”

“We’ve covered everything,” Jerry said, handed Mark the envelope and told him that all prints were his to keep.

Chapter Twelve

The chilly fall froze into winter and winter slowly warmed into the spring of 1968.

Balmy breezes and a warming New England sun greeted the day as the trees sprouted green leaves in the Berkshires on a Monday past Easter.[cap6]

“Oh, what a beautiful morning,” Mark sang as Jerry slid into the passenger seat.

“Puhlease spare me,” Jerry joked while closing the door.

“I’d sing the whole song,” Mark said, turning toward Jerry, “but time is tight today. Is there anything new from your side? With the weather warming up we’re expecting an increase of The Boys’ activity.”

“Not really. It’s been pretty quiet — at least at the Tree House. The Boys still come in and sit at their perches on the far side of the bar, but their chat has been just that — chat — and an occasional bad joke.”

“Some time ago I asked you to be watching for any signs of truck hijackings. Since then, there has only been one; however, we are anticipating more. Whoever is doing it must be the same group because the scenario is the same. The driver is forced over to the side of the highway and two men with masks over their faces make the driver move to the passenger seat, where they tie him up, blindfold and gag him. After he’s blindfolded, a man gets in and drives the truck somewhere, the trailer is removed from the tractor and then it’s driven to a remote location and the driver gets out and leaves the truck driver alone in the cab. Eventually, someone drives by the tractor, notices it and looks to see why it is parked there and idling. That’s when the police are called in. We need to get a handle on this so it can be stopped. This, Jerry, is a high priority matter.”

With an ear-to-ear smile, Mark said, “I have one thing to report to you this time.”

Jerry scratched the side of his head and asked, “Oh, what’s that?”

“You have another feather in your hat. Thanks to you we found the hole in the border that Frankie was getting through. It took a while to complete the investigation, but we found that it was his cousin, who is also from Poland — they lived in the same town and were in the same forced-labor concentration camp during the War — who was giving Frankie what amounted to a wave-through. Oh sure, the cousin would take his clipboard out and pretend to go through the inspection procedure, but about all they did was talk. The amount of time spent on the ‘inspections’ didn’t coincide with the actual time required and that wasn’t discovered until we worked with the supervising agent at the border office. His cousin is out of a job and The Boys will have to figure out some other way to do their smuggling from Canada.”

Mark closed his notebook and said, “If there’s nothing more, I’ll see you next Monday. I should be in the area all week, so if you need me just call.”

“I’ll be extra watchful and let you know if I pick up any clues,” Jerry replied as he got out of Mark’s car.

Hmmm. Four o’ clock. Lois should be home from school now, so I think I’ll give her a call.

“Hello,” Lois answered.

“Hi, Lois. I was wondering if you’d like to get out for a while and go to the Tree House,” Jerry said as he twisted the phone cord around his fingers. “I could run over and pick you up.”

“I’d like to get out for a while, but I can’t stay too long because I have a lot of school work to finish for tomorrow. Why don’t I meet you there in about an hour?”

“I’ll consider that a date!” Jerry answered. “See you soon!”

Card greeted Jerry when he sat in his usual place at the bar, “Where’s your sidekick?”

Glancing at his watch, Jerry answered, “She should be here in another thirty-five minutes or so. Got a cold one in there for me?”

Card reached into the cooler and said, “Coming right up and then I have a question for you.”

Jerry poured the beer into his glass and said, “You ask. I’ll answer.”

Card leaned against the bar on one elbow and explained, “Benny called me yesterday and asked me to ask you if you would consider going to Montreal to photograph the family of one of our business associates. Our friend in Montreal was quite impressed with your Christmas card photo of Benny’s family that he wants you to do the same for him.”

“Why me? There are probably dozens of photographers in Montreal and I’m sure he would have no trouble finding a good one in his own backyard, so to speak.”

“Benny said you might answer like that, so he wants you to know that it’s the trust factor that we have with you,” Card replied and shifted around and leaned on his other elbow.

Trust factor, indeed. There’s got to be more to this because it has a slight aroma of a manure pile.

“I don’t know of anything that’s coming up in the next few months, so I would say that I’m open for the job. I would, however, like to know soon when they want to do this so I can get it into my appointment book,” Jerry said as he poured more beer into his glass.

“I’ll let Benny know that you’ll take the job and give you more details when I get them,” Card said, taking the empty bottle and replacing it with a fresh one from the cooler.

I wonder, now that Frankie can’t get through the border undetected, if they’re going to try to use me for their mule. If so, I don’t think I’ll like it — protected or not by Mark and the other agents. The last delivery to Hirschmanns made me a little gun shy.

“A penny for your thoughts,” Lois said, sneaking up behind Jerry and hugging him.

Jerry swiveled around in his barstool and said, “For you, my love, my thoughts are free. I was just sitting here letting my mind ramble and it didn’t go very far, so there really wasn’t anything of importance. I’m glad to see you!”

Pulling the barstool closer to Jerry, Lois got seated and asked Card for a drink. “I’m only going to have one tonight, hon,” she said, turning to Jerry. “Gotta keep my head on straight so I can get my work done.”

“Well, I’m glad that you could get out for a little while so we could be together,” Jerry said as he leaned toward her and looked into her eyes.

They sat quietly for several minutes while they slowly enjoyed their drinks.

“Are you okay,” Lois asked. “You seemed to be a bit preoccupied.”

Before answering, Jerry looked around and noticed that Card was not nearby. In a low voice, he said, “Card told me that Benny wants me to go up to Montreal and take a family photo like we did for Benny. It’s some ‘business associate’ who liked Benny’s group picture. Just between you and me, I don’t feel too comfortable with the idea.”

“Why not? It’s just for a picture and I’m sure you’ll be paid well,” Lois leaned toward Jerry and replied in a low voice.

“I just have a gut-feeling that there’s more to it. After all, he could hire a local photographer to do the job,” Jerry reasoned and picked up his glass for another swallow of beer.

“Good point,” Lois replied and finished her drink. “Don’t camp on the subject too long, Jer. Just wait and see what happens.” She slid off the barstool, gave Jerry a quick kiss and said, “I have to run, hon. I’ll call you tomorrow after school. Maybe we can spend more time together then.”

“Okay. See ya later,” Jerry replied and turned back to the bar when Lois left.

“Where did Lois go?” Angie asked upon returning to the waitress station.

“She has some work to do before school tomorrow, so she went home,” Jerry said as he shook a cigarette from his pack.

Angie had her lighter lit for him before he could reach for his and said, “Ol’ Frankie sure has been in a snit lately and I don’t know why. Nobody’s sayin’ nothin’ and that’s a little unusual, especially for Card to be silent.”

“Maybe it’s just something that happens around this time of the year,” Jerry said, flicking ashes into the ashtray, “something like slow business. That would put anyone in a snit.”

“I don’t think so. If business was slow, Frankie would be complaining about it; he has before. — Excuse me, I see some thirsty customers,” Angie said and left with the serving tray to pick up empty bottles and glasses.

“Ready for another one?” Card asked as he took Jerry’s empty.

“Sure. I think I can handle one or three more.”

Setting the beer on the bar, Card asked, “Is Lois ready for another? I see that her glass is empty. I’m assuming she’s in the ladies’ room.”

“No, she left a little while ago to do some work at home. You must have been out for lunch,” Jerry replied, picking up the bottle and pouring it into the glass.

“I was in my office with a phone call,” Card said nonchalantly.

Jerry slowly drank his beer and mulled over Card’s secrecy. I’m just guessing, but I think The Boys are in a bit of a tailspin because of the border closing. It’s gotta be why Frankie’s in a snit. I’m sure he’ll be losing a lot of money by not making the smuggling trips. I have a feeling that Card’s phone conversation concerned what they’ll do next because of using the lounge for the drop off and distribution point.

The phone rang and Card interrupted Jerry’s muse, saying, “Phone’s for you, Jerry. Stay there and I’ll bring it to you.”

Taking the phone from Card, Jerry answered, “Hello, this is Jerry.”

It was Lois. “Hi, Cowboy. I figured out that I can do most of my work during my first office time tomorrow. I’d really like to go for a ride on the range tonight. Are you game?”

“Are you kidding?” Jerry said, turning his stool away from the bar. “Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse. I’ll leave as soon as I finish my beer, which should take no more than thirty seconds.”

* * *

Two days passed before Jerry and Lois returned to the Tree House for dinner and drinks.

“How are you guys tonight?” Card asked as he set out coasters for their drinks.

“Doing fine,” Jerry replied while helping Lois adjust the position of her barstool. “And how are you doing?”

“I’m doing okay, but maybe I’ll be doing better after we have a little talk. Can you come back to my office for a few minutes, Jerry?” Card asked as he prepared a drink for Lois and then reached into the cooler for Jerry’s beer.

“Sure. Whenever you’re ready I’m ready.”

Card called to Angie, “Can you watch the bar for a few minutes?”

“Be right there.”

“Have a seat, Jerry,” Card said as they entered his office. Card moved his chair up to the desk, leaned on his forearms and then asked, “Are you available to take a trip to Montreal next weekend and take pictures of our business associates? Is a week and a half enough notice?”

Jerry shifted in his chair and thought, the smell of a rat is getting stronger. “I see no reason why I can’t. I know I don’t have any plans for that weekend. Sure — I’ll do it. It’s no big deal to haul my equipment just to take a few pictures, and the extra money will be good to have.”

Card leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. “Well — uh — we do have an extra little favor to ask you.”

How did I know this was coming? Jerry looked innocently at Card and asked, “And what is that?”

“We’d like to have you take a few extra boxes with you — birthday presents for one of them,” Card said somewhat guardedly.

Jerry shrugged, “I don’t see any problem there as long as Canadian Customs doesn’t want to open them for inspection.”

“Benny doesn’t think it’ll be a problem because they’ll be wrapped with paper, ribbons, bows — you know — things like that,” Card replied, standing up. “I think that covers everything, my friend. I’ll let Benny know and he’ll give us more details later. Maybe as early as this Friday. Do you think you’ll be here Friday evening?”

Jerry stood up and reached to shake Card’s hand. “You bet I will, and thanks, Card, and as I said, I can always use the extra cash.”

“What’s the big secret, lover boy?” Lois whispered to Jerry as she leaned over and wrapped her arms around him when he sat down.

Seeing Card nearby, Jerry whispered back, “I’ll tell you about it when we leave. It’s nothing that I didn’t expect.” He poured the beer into his glass and then took a long drink.

The front door opened and four of The Boys entered and went to their usual places at the other side of the bar. Card immediately went over to them with their drinks.

Lois watched them as they talked for several minutes. “Jerry,” she said very softly, “they have some deal going on that I need to tell you about.”

Turning toward her, Jerry said quietly, “Keep watching and try to remember as much as you can. Let’s save it for when we leave because it sounds rather important.”

“It is important, I think, and I’ll remember all the main details.” Lois sipped on her drink and continued watching Card and The Boys.

After Jerry closed her door, Lois leaned across Jerry’s seat and pulled up the lock button on his door. Settling back into her seat, Lois asked, “Do you want to go first or should I?”

“I’ll go first,” Jerry replied as he backed from the Tree House. “Benny wants me to deliver a few ‘birthday presents’ to one of the mobsters in Montreal. I’m really concerned about going through Canadian Customs because of the inspection. He doesn’t seem to think that I’ll have any trouble getting through — that the so-called presents won’t be inspected. Let’s say if they are inspected and the packages really are birthday presents, then there may be a duty to be paid, which will take time, paperwork and money out of my pocket.”

“Why would they be anything but birthday presents?” Lois asked as she reached to turn up the heater.

Thinking fast, Jerry answered, “I was just thinking out loud that maybe, just maybe, The Boys might try to slide something else through — kinda like their using Frankie to haul more than Christmas trees from Canada. They trust me, but I don’t trust them all that much. Know what I mean?”

“Yeah, I see. Just be careful, Jerry. I don’t want to have to drive to Canada to visit you in prison — or anywhere else for that matter.” Lois looked straight ahead with a sober expression.

“Hey, lighten up!” Jerry said and patted her knee. “It’s your turn to tell me what you saw.”

“Well,” Lois said, turning toward Jerry, “I couldn’t see everything they said because Card was standing in front of one of the guys. They want Card to talk to Frankie to do some driving again. They said Frankie’s needed for a job that’s coming down from Vermont Friday night and that he should plan to get started between ten and eleven o’clock.”

Sounds like another hijacking to me. I hope I can reach Mark in time. Jerry squirmed a little nervously and scratched his head, “That is really interesting. I wonder just what the heck they’re doing that involves Frankie, and especially at that hour of the night.”

“I sure don’t know,” Lois said with frustration. “It was hard putting things together with Card in the way and the cigar smoke that blocked their lips at key times in the conversation.”

When they reached her house, Jerry said, “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t go in tonight. I’m a bit tired and need to get some sleep.”

“Is my little boy tired?” Lois said teasingly and patted Jerry’s head. “That’s okay. We have a whole weekend ahead of us for fun and games.”

“If that’s an invitation, I’ll take it and I’ll even help make breakfast Saturday morning,” Jerry replied and leaned over to give Lois a goodnight kiss.

Jerry located a phone booth in just a few minutes, called Mark’s contact number and asked that Mark connect with Agent O’Dell at eight the next morning.

Chapter Thirteen

A black Oldsmobile 98 four door sedan was stopped a few yards past the studio as Jerry headed toward Strathmore. It waited for an oncoming Ford to pass, made a u-turn and fell in behind Jerry and the Ford. Jerry kept up his speed for a few miles and the two cars behind him seemed satisfied with his pace. At the first significant grade Jerry let his speed slowly drop, as if a tired old six-cylinder Chevy engine wasn’t up to the task. His speed dropped below 50, then 45, he leveled it off at 42 mph. The Ford made no move to pass. The Oldsmobile grew impatient, pulled out and sped past the Ford and Jerry, unimpeded by the grade.

At the top of the hill Jerry stuck his arm out the window and motioned the Ford to pass. The Ford made a cautious peek and seeing the lane clear floored the accelerator and quickly went by. Jerry checked his mirrors: no one behind him for a mile. He realized he hadn’t been breathing, and consciously exhaled.

At the paper plant he had to wait several minutes for Mark to appear. He spent his time studying the structures, trying to find some dramatic, artsy scene. I wouldn’t hurt to have a few matted prints of the place, just in case the question ever came up. He thought over the situation and decided to return late in the afternoon someday soon to get the full effect of strong shadows and brilliant lighting on the white structures.

When Mark arrived Jerry went over to Mark’s car and slid onto the passenger seat. Jerry quickly went over the plans for Montreal and the upcoming activity in Vermont.

“What route are you planning for Montreal?”

“I will take the turnpike over to Albany and then take Route 9 to Montreal.”

Mark sat silent for over a minute. He finished writing notes and sat with his pencil poised over the pad. “I may be getting back to you before you leave. If you don’t hear from me don’t think about it. I may use an intermediary, the hook will be commercial photos for a gas station.”

Mark sat silent for another minute. Jerry finally said, “What’s up Mark? Even with all that’s going on you usually aren’t so preoccupied.”

Mark nodded, “Sorry, Jerry. Don’t get the idea that your value has decreased any. Nothing could be farther from the truth. An interagency situation has cropped up; the Vermont event has emphasized the situation, that is all. Strictly something the office has to get coordinated on, that’s all. Sorry to seem disengaged.

Mark’s facial expression changed, as if he experienced an epiphany. “How fast does that crate of yours go, anyway?”

Jerry shrugged. “I never have had it topped out. The engine is stronger than the suspension. It gets really scary above 110. Smooth, straight roads I can hold a 100, but it is on the edge of being skatey, if you know what I mean.”

Mark nodded and made a few notes. After another pause he said, “Can you hold ninety for an hour and a half?”

“I guess so. I would have to start with over a half tank of gas.”

“OK, just taking inventory. I’ll supply the gas.”

The meeting was over. Mark left. Jerry was hungry, and drove the few miles to Woronoco where he had a favorite breakfast café.

The phone was ringing as Jerry opened the studio door. “I have a gas station and I would like you to take some pictures of it. It’s the Sunoco station on State Street, just two blocks north of the Armory.”

“I can be there right after noon.”

“Make it around three-thirty, if you can.”

Since he needed gas anyway, Jerry stopped in front of the pumps. A man in his forties came out, “Mark says to fill your tank on his ticket.”

“Two-sixty will be fine.”

“For an old Chevy six? That is abuse of a friendship.”

“Check the oil.”

The attendant gave him a suspicious look, but went around to the front and lifted the hood. “Oh, I see. Two-sixty it is! How did you get that to fit?”

“I didn’t. My cousin did all the work. He loves to build cars, but needs to sell what he builds so he can build another one. I just happened to be in town when he was wanting to sell this. I haul a lot of photo gear from time to time, so the panel configuration works out well.”

“It is a sweet installation. Oh, almost got carried away. Mark wants to talk with you. He is in the office in the back.”

Jerry found his way to an office off to the side of the service area. The office area couldn’t be seen from the street, and a high stack of tires hid the entrance from view for most vantage points in the garage area.

Mark wasted no time with salutations, “Tomorrow, when you get north of Schenectady, there will be a New York State Trooper on the side of the road. He will get in behind you, and at the first opportunity overtake you. Follow the trooper. When our folks there are done you will be on your way. You may need to make up some time.”

Jerry was having inner conflicts from Lois’ advances during dinner. As she placed her hand on his crotch she said, “C’mon, cowboy. I know you are wanting this just as much as I do.”

Jerry was thinking about having to be up at four and driving all day and working all afternoon and evening. His hormones were oblivious to his mind, and were aching for release. “If we go to your place I will never make it through the day tomorrow.”

“There isn’t any reason we can’t go to your place, cowboy.”

Jerry conceded. They drove separately to Jerry’s place. The furnishings were still spartan. The single bed would be crowded with two people side by side. It worked out well for one person on top of the other. Lois thrashed around a lot during sex and she nearly fell off the bed several times. Despite Jerry’s concerns for getting a good nights sleep he toyed and teased Lois for over an hour. She was begging for release after twenty minutes, but Jerry played her like a fine musical instrument. “Now, cowboy, now!” she screamed and Jerry finally granted her wish.

The alarm rang at four. Jerry fumbled around until he finally disentangled himself from Lois and silenced it. He quietly dressed and left the sleeping Lois.[cap7]

At the Tree House Card answered at the second knock Mr. Blue Suit brought six packages, all wrapped with paper and bows consistent with birthday gifts. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out six pieces of paper. “If you get stopped at the crossing, show these forms. There ought not to be no problems. Make it a point to cross between noon and two this afternoon.”

Jerry was silent for a moment. Mr. Blue suit said, “Any problems, Freaky Boy?”

Jerry maintained his cool. He had told Lois that ‘Freaky Boy’ had just become his handle, that the assignment of a moniker meant he was in. Jerry really felt that Mr. Blue Suit and the other soldiers held him in disdain. Go ahead, wise guy. Freaky Boy is going put your wise ass away for a long time. “No, no problem I was just figuring how long it would take to get to the border”

“It shouldn’t be a problem. You may want to stop for lunch.”

Jerry didn’t reply. He closed the back of the car and went around to the drivers seat.

As predicted there was a Highway Patrol cruiser sitting alongside the road north of Schenectady. The cruiser pulled past. The cruiser sped up, and soon Jerry looked down to see they were doing just a shade over 90 mph. The early Saturday morning traffic was light, and they only occasionally passed a car or truck. They got off the highway at Glens Falls. Driving through town the trooper made several turns to a street that paralleled the north bank of the Hudson River. A large Quonset-style building with garage doors at each end was the target. The cruiser drove into the building and stopped. Jerry was just a few inches off his bumper. The entrance door closed. A uniformed officer approached from the side and motioned Jerry to stay where he was. The cruiser departed out the back opening.

Mark came out of the shadows. Jerry rolled down his window. “That was fun.” The back of the car was opened and two uniformed officers started taking the packages. “Just the gift wrapped stuff, men.” Mark called out, “Leave the rest.”

“Here is the plan. We are going to examine the packages while you drive. Cross the border at Rouses Point. Take highway 223 to 202. Go west on 202 to 221. Go north on 221 to Lacolle. After you cross the railroad tracks You will be intercepted by a RCMP officer. There will be a turn off to the right. Pull into the road until there is a pond on each side and stop there. The officer will give you back the packages. There may be a bust. The timing will be such that you can claim you are just there taking pictures, etc. You may be detained for up to a day. Just remember you are just an innocent bystander caught up in something you know nothing about, and act accordingly.

“You have anything?”

Jerry related the appointed hour for crossing, implying a favorable agent would be on duty. “But, I was thinking on the way over that I never told those guys the route I would take. So I really don’t know which crossing is the one they have under control.”

Mark nodded. “Its not like there are dozens of them. We will check out all of the squads on duty. I will call you next week for a debriefing. I may be tied up in Montreal for a few days.

The Canadian Customs Officer was thorough, but courteous. Jerry was just another routine visitor. He was curious why Jerry was crossing at Rouses Point instead of Champlain, but readily accepted Jerry’s explanation he had a favorite restaurant in Rouses Point.

The RCMP officer was waiting as Jerry crossed the tracks. He quickly fell in behind Jerry and turned on his emergency lights. Jerry smiled: there was no other traffic on the road. Jerry turned onto a gravel road an drove until he was adjacent the two lakes. The RCMP officer took a moment before exiting his vehicle. Jerry wondered if the plan had changed.

The officer approached the car and asked for Jerry’s identification. Jerry complied. After a brief examination he said, “I have some packages for you. Can you open the back of your vehicle?”

Jerry said ‘sure’ and got out to open the rear door. The Officer brought around two packages. Jerry loaded them. Two more trips and the task was complete.

“That is a nice looking delivery. Haven’t seen one for several years. Is it just paint, or is there something extra under the hood?”

Jerry smiled, and without comment went to the front and opened the hood.

“That is really nice! Two fours or three twos? How fast is it?”

Jerry explained about the poor handling.

“That is really sweet. When I was given the assignment I thought they were kidding. Isn’t this a bit conspicuous for this kind of work?”

Jerry raised his eyebrow. “What kind of work is that?”

The officer was silent for a moment. “Good point. Sorry.”

“Awww, don’t worry about it. I imagine this is kind of unusual for you. It is unusual for me, too”

“Nice car, Mr. Hartwick. I hope your day works out well.” They exchanged handshakes and got into their cars.

Jerry checked his Quebec road map, reviewed his route to Montreal, then turned his car around and left the rendezvous area. The RCMP officer stayed behind, and Jerry did not see him come back to the highway. It was excellent spy craft Jerry thought as he was heading toward Montreal. The road was still deserted, but there was no reason to take a chance or cut corners. Jerry drove six miles before he encountered another car.

The house was certainly larger than anything Jerry ever lived in, or dreamed he would live in, but it wasn’t the mansion Benny lived in. It was built in the twenties and situated on a generous lot on the south bank of Riviére Des Prairies. The lot and house were just big enough to accommodate a circular driveway. Jerry parked in front of the colonnaded front entrance, went to the door and searched for a bell button. He observed a pull cord about the same time the door opened.

Don Giancani was a few years older than Benny. He was dressed in a custom tailored suit, likely anticipating the portrait session. “You must be the photographer. Benny said your hair was freaky. My cousin’s wife is a hair stylist. She can fix that for you before you leave, if you care to.”

Jerry smiled and introduced himself, offering a business card. “Do you have some place in mind where you want the pictures to be taken?”

“Benny said to leave it up to you. He said you are real good at picking just the right place to capture the personalities. Come on in, meet the family.”

Maria Giancani could have just stepped out of a fashion shoot for Vogue. She was in her late forties, Jerry guessed, had classic good looks and obviously took pride in her appearance. Her suit was form fitting, and it was a wonderful form. Jerry wondered how much help it was getting from Playtex.

As they started through the house Don called for the children. Two late-teen-aged daughters appeared first, then a mid-teen-aged son and finally a pre-teen daughter. All the children were dressed smartly. The oldest daughter was very pretty and quite busty. The next daughter had a classic look, not flashy, but would be dangerous if she filled out as she matured. The son was handsome. Jerry guessed his jacket and slacks were custom tailored. The youngest girl was wearing a velvet dress with lace accents. Jerry recognized the lace as being hand made, more than likely silk, and more than likely from Rome.

Jerry walked through the living room, library, and a substantial party room off the back of the house. He asked to see the yard. He walked around the yard. A gazebo would make an interesting location. Two benches were situated against a lilac hedge.

“I have in mind the parents on the bench with the children standing behind and at your side.”

There wasn’t a response, so Jerry said, “There is a traditional pose that is just the opposite, the image is of the authoritative father and mother with the children in a subservient role. I can set it up however you chose. If you prefer an indoor setting, that is all right, also. The fireplace area in the living room would be nice.”

Maria spoke, “Let’s go with the first suggestion. It really more accurately reflects our family.”

Jerry nodded. The group returned to the house. Jerry said it would take several minutes to set up his equipment.

“Bring your truck around the side, you won’t have so far to carry your equipment”, Don said.

Jerry said thank you. Maria stopped with the children and recited the plan. Don walked with Jerry out the front door. Jerry said, “I have some presents here from Benny. Came up at the last moment. I don’t know what they are for, I hope you do.”

“Yes, they are a surprise. When you pull around I will take them into the garage.”

Jerry started the car. Don responded to the rumble of the V-8. “Mother Mary, what’s in that old crate?”

“Oldsmobile.”

“I gotta see that. I love cars.”

Jerry maneuvered in the drive and then backed toward the back yard, leaving a big gap between the garage and the car. As he got out of the car he noticed a glint, a flash of sunlight reflecting off a lens. He looked for a second and realized they were being watched. The jig is up you rotten bastard.

Don unloaded the presents without any assistance from Jerry. Jerry moved his camera bag and a tripod to the backyard. Don was standing next to the car when Jerry returned and Jerry remembered the request. They went to the front of the car and Jerry lifted the hood. Don was impressed, and let Jerry know it. Jerry left Don and took a load of light stands and umbrella reflectors to the yard.

As he was setting up the equipment the middle daughter came out to watch. “What are you using for this?”

Jerry explained the setup. The girl was interested in photography and asked some pointed questions. “The flash fill will give all of you even lighting in this mottled setting and soften the background contrast.”

Since the girl was there Jerry asked her to sit on the bench for light meter readings, which she eagerly complied. Jerry thought he would make a friend and asked her to change her pose a few times while he took pictures.

“OK. I think we have everything setup. Lets get everyone else out.” The daughter, excited from the special consideration, ran back to the house to fetch the others.

Don came out, smiling and joking with his family. How can you do that? How can you be so affectionate with your family and ruin everyone else’s life?

“Benny said you were the best. I can see now it will be worthwhile having you come all this way. Diana thinks you are very special.”

Jerry had the parents sit first. He asked the oldest daughter to straighten her mother’s skirt. Jerry took three shots. He then asked the children to arrange themselves around the parents. The expressions were genuinely happy. Maria gets treated better than Benny’s wife, I can see that.

While the children were situating, Jerry changed his film holder. When they were settled Jerry started taking pictures in a measured fashion. until he went through the entire roll.

“OK, that ought to do for the whole family. Parents, you can stand, please and I would like to get a group of the children. Oldest daughter and son standing and the two younger girls on the bench.”

They complied as Jerry put a fresh film pack on the camera.. Jerry concentrated on the group. After the first picture the children were more than smiling, they were snickering, trying to control outright laughter. Jerry felt a presence. Don was behind him with two fingers point up behind his head.

Ignoring the fact that the least amount of displeasure from this mobster could cost him his life, Jerry protested that he needed smiles, and that snickering and laughter did not end up as good expressions.

Don shrugged. He stopped his antics and, after a long pause, the children were back to acceptable poses.

“I think that will do it, unless you have any requests.”

The oldest girl spoke up. “You took pictures of Diana alone. I want one too.”

“Have a seat. I’ll do you kids, too.”

The garden shots complete, Don said he wanted a library shot, just like the one Benny had.

Jerry started carting the equipment into the house. Diana asked if she could help. Jerry gave Don a questioning look. Some clients expected the hired help to tote their own equipment. Don shrugged and nodded.

It only took a few minutes to get situated in the library. A piece of sculpture sat on one of the book shelves. Jerry moved Don around until the sculpture would be in the frame. A minute of diddling with the lighting and Jerry was set. He took two shots and then moved in for a closer shot. He arranged Don and the camera and took two more. That completed the assignment.

“When can I have these?”

“ I have a contact here who will process them this afternoon. I can be back tomorrow with proofs and you can pick out the ones you want. My friend will do the printing and you can have whatever you want by Wednesday.”

“I really prefer to have you do this exclusively.”

Jerry scratched his ear. “It’ll be late next week to have them here in the mail, then another week for final prints. That’s the best I can do.”

“That will be fine.” Don reached in his pocket and pulled out a wad of American currency. “Here’s the five for the family portrait, another five for the kids, and here’s some extra for knowing how to work with the kids.”

Jerry said thank you, it was a pleasure being here, you have a lovely family and a nice house. Jerry packed up his gear and left. The family was at the door, waving as he left the premises.

Jerry drove two blocks and stopped for a sign. He had delivered the goods and got out of the house without a hassle. He hadn’t realized the stress he was experiencing. Suddenly, the stress was released, there was an adrenaline rush and he was shaking uncontrollably. It took several minutes to gain control. When he did he was weak, and could barely press in the clutch pedal.

A car came up from behind and tooted its horn. Jerry looked in the mirror, saw the car and turned the corner. He drove a few yards and then stopped along the curb. The car that had been behind him pulled up and rolled down the window. Jerry rolled his down.

“Ca va bien, monsieur?"

“Yeah, I’ll be OK in a minute. Must have had some bad salad at lunch.”

The other driver waved and drove off. Jerry sat for several more minutes. An RCMP cruiser pilled up behind him. Ca va bien, monsieur?"

“I will be all right in a few minutes. Am I okay sitting here?”

“Yes sir. Just checking to see if you are sick, or need help.”

“Thank you, officer. I will be all right. I’m feeling better even as we talk. I should be on my way in just a few minutes.”

“Are you sure? I was told to ask if you need some help. Do you need medical attention?”

Jerry thought about that for a moment. “No, honestly, I just had a close call and, I don’t know if you ever had a close call and the reaction was worse than if you had actually had the encounter?”

“Yes sir, I know exactly what you mean. I understand. Do you want to get out and walk around for a minute?”

“Yes, I think that would be the wise thing to do.”

Jerry got out. His knees were wobbly. He took a few breaths and walked to the side walk, the officer by his side in case Jerry collapsed. In a minute Jerry was back to normal, although he felt drained.

“I ‘ll be all right now. Tell whoever told you that I will be all right, honest. I appreciate the concern, honest.”

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”

Jerry got back into his car. The clutch still was not as easy as usual, but he drove on.

Jerry crossed back to the U.S. at Champlain. It was 5:30 in the afternoon, plenty of time to get back to Springfield that evening. Instead he found a motel with a vacancy and checked in. Jerry didn’t bother undressing. He lay on top of the bed and was asleep in three minutes.

Jerry woke up in the same position in which he laid down. He looked at the clock on the night stand: 11:30. Well, he slept six hours. He went to the window and opened the curtain. Bright sunshine greeted him. Jerry had slept 17 hours! It was Sunday morning.

Jerry quickly brushed his teeth and changed his clothes. He put on his sad look for the desk clerk and avoided paying for another day because of the late checkout.

Jerry unloaded his equipment at the studio and called Lois. She was worried when she hadn’t heard from him Saturday night. Jerry said he would explain over dinner. Lois invited him to have dinner at her place. Jerry said he would be right over.

“I had $1200 US in my pocket when I left Giancani’s house. It’s spooky; if you were a neighbor or friends through the kids, you wouldn’t suspect he was a big time gangster. Maria, his wife, was genuinely pleasant.”

“So what is with the Rip Van Winkle trick?”

“I think the stress of the situation just caught up with me, delivering the presents, having to drive to a foreign country, even if it is Canada, with a load of suspicious material, just was weighing on me more than I realized.”

“Maybe there is a positive point. You should be rested enough for a night riding the range.” Lois wrapped her arms around Jerry and ground her breasts against his chest. Jerry responded without any control. “I knew you would be interested.”

It was after 8:00 AM when Jerry woke up in Lois’ bed. He felt refreshed. He showered and shaved and was on the road to Hartford by 9:00. He dropped off the film and asked if he could wait for the prints. “You making any money on these? I mean the extra charges for the fast service would be eating the profit out of most of my customers.”

“I pass along the additional expense and bother. I gave up working for free when I left the high school newspaper staff.”

Jerry went to what was becoming his favorite morning café and ordered a late breakfast. The waitress came by several times to keep his coffee filled. Jerry thought she might be trying to get his attention. She was cute, no denying that, and her pink and green dress was custom tailored to accentuate her trim figure.

The waitress flirted and Jerry turned on the charm. The waitress was deflated when Jerry left without asking for her telephone number, but he did leave a generous tip.

At the lab Jerry asked for a mailing envelope for a set of the prints. He stopped by the local post office and sent the prints to Canada. The second set he kept in the car.

Tuesday morning Jerry met with Mark at Strathmore. Jerry handed a package of photos and a rough layout of Giancani’s residence and then related the trip, including his exhaustion.

Chapter Fourteen

At the Tree House Jerry sensed anxiety. Angie was fidgety. Card was nervous. Card dropped a wine glass he was polishing. Jerry had never seen Card drop a glass. Angie routinely spilled a tray of empty glasses or plates: Card never dropped a glass.

Card set him up with a beer. “How was your weekend? We missed seeing you her Saturday night, although Angie said she doubted you would be back that soon. I suppose you spent last night with Lois.”

Jerry smiled, “You wouldn’t believe I was only gone one day. It was like when I was in the Navy and had been away for a year. Except, when I was in the Navy I didn’t have a Lois waiting, if you know what I mean.”

Card laughed. “You always hear about sailors having a girl in every port. I wonder about that.”

“That myth is overblown. You can have a girl in every port if you have a Jackson hanging out of every pocket.”

Card laughed again. “Benny wants to know how your trip went. I gotta give him a call.” Card went to the phone, had a brief conversation, then returned. “Benny says to stick around for dinner. He will be over later on.”

“I guess Benny is buying us dinner?”

Card smiled. “He didn’t say so, but I would assume that.”

Lois came in as Jerry was getting his second beer. She embraced him and gave him a quick kiss.

“How was Connecticut?”

“The waitress in the café across from the lab is after my bod.”

“Do I need to be afraid, or jealous.”

“She was cute, but not completely my type.”

“Small boobs, I bet.”

“No, I wouldn’t say she was deprived, but her proportions weren’t what I like.”

“That’s what I said: small boobs.”

Jerry blushed. Lois laughed, leaned over and gave him a kiss. “Cowboy, you never cease to amaze me. How you can be so very, very good in bed and yet so naïve; well, it just amazes me.”

“Benny is buying dinner.”

Lois raised an eyebrow. “He is really getting his hooks into you. Are you still in some modicum of control?”

“I am sure he just wants a report on the Montreal trip. I really don’t have much to report, everything went without a hitch, just like we talked about last night. I’m up for lobster tonight, the biggest one in the tank. Perhaps you should get the filet.”

They picked the most expensive wine to go with the meal. Benny could, and would, pay for it.

After dinner Lois said she could stay around for a while, but she needed to get some work done at the house. Jerry said he understood. They moved to the bar. Drinks were up before they settled on their stools. A small group of The Boys were huddled at the other end. Card wasn’t part of the discussion and Lois was quickly concentrating on the conversation. “Three of The Boys are in jail! Frankie the junkman. Federal beef! ”

Jerry inwardly smiled.

“Three down east Boys were caught moving bootleg booze in a warehouse in Chelsea. Frankie was driving the truck. Patriarca is furious. The rumor is he suspects the hijacked driver ratted.”

Lois went silent.

Benny came in, strolled passed Jerry and Lois without comment and headed to the other end of the bar. The room got suddenly quiet. Jerry noticed. Everybody in the room knows something is going down! Benny didn’t stop at the bar; he went straight into the office, signaling the others to follow. Card went to the door, but didn’t get in the room; his presence wasn’t wanted.

These are the signs of an organization in distress. Perhaps on the brink of destruction. The next thing to look for is fighting amongst themselves, loss of the basic trust between group members.

“The two guys that were directly facing me are from Boston. They didn’t have much to say to the other guy. He came right out and asked them if they were here for a hit. One of them told him to keep his mouth shut. Their business was none of his. Who is he, anyway? I don’t recall seeing him before.”

“I think he is Grouch’s number one. That is, if Grouch has enough swag to have a number one. I have seen him when I picked up a load. He either coincidentally is out of the way or makes an effort to avoid being seen.”

After several minutes the trio that had been sitting at the bar came out of the office. The local did not look very well, or very happy. The two outsiders looked relaxed, in a formal sort of fashion. The local signaled Card toward the office. Card quickly responded.

A brief moment passed before Card reappeared and strolled to Lois and Jerry. “Benny would like to see you, Jerry.”

“Thanks for dinner, Benny.” Jerry said as he went into the office, closing the door behind him.

“Don’t mention it. I have a couple things on my mind, but I wanted to follow up on your trip to Montreal. Any problems?”

“No problems at all. Mr. Giancani seems to be a standup kind of guy. He has a beautiful wife and kids, that’s for sure. One of the girls is interested in photography and helped me set up. I got a nice order out of the trip. I appreciate the referral. I ought to be buying you dinner.”

Benny waved him off, “Think nothing of it . You’re a good kid, Jerry. I can trust you. That is what I like about you. Even though you aren’t family, I know I can trust you. How was the trip up, any problems at the border?”

“No, the customs agent was asleep when I pulled up. I think because I caught him sleeping he wasn’t going to hassle me. He opened up the back, saw the presents and camera gear and closed the door. Waved me through without so much as asking me the usual questions.”

Benny had a curious look on his face. “Where did you cross?”

“Rouses Point, New York.”

“Why there?”

“Why not?” I wanted to drive up the Hudson. I stopped for lunch at Rouses Point and continued from there. Nice drive.”

“I see. So you didn’t go up through Vermont?”

“No. I have been up that way before. I like seeing new country whenever I can. I never know when a good spot for a picture is going to come into view.”

Benny nodded. After a minute he said, “Well, I’m glad it worked out.”

Jerry intentionally scratched his ear. “Why wouldn’t it?”

Benny glared at Jerry for just a split second. Jerry appreciated the control. Even though Jerry hated Benny and the rest of The Boys, he did recognize Benny was an astute manager and leader. “Well, you are right about that. Why wouldn’t it?

“Don called me Saturday night to thank me for the presents. He said everything was in perfect condition. He said you did a real professional job with the photo session, and the girls all have a crush on you. How about that oldest girl? Huh? Quite a looker. Just like her mother when she was young.”

Jerry gave a knowing smile. “Maria doesn’t have to spot anyone any points as it is. She is a very classy lady. She is a lot like your wife.”

Benny laughed, “Freaky Boy, I know your game. All of the wives and kids are nuts about you. You have work with the family forever, if you want it. I knew I could trust you, but I didn’t figure you would come in and charm all the women.”

Jerry leaned into Benny, even though they were alone in the office. “You think I don’t know who makes these decisions?”

Jerry leaned back as Benny laughed out loud and slapped Jerry on the back. Benny was stressed, and the release was more than welcome. He started toward the door and Jerry followed. As they went into the bar Benny said, “You are right about the decisions, but if you repeat that to anyone I will string you up!” And then Benny laughed and slapped Jerry on the back again. Thank God he didn’t kiss me on the cheek.

Chapter Fifteen

Out of the blue Jerry got a call one day from the director of Camp Onakool, on Cobble Mountain Reservoir. “We do camp photos on Wednesdays and Saturday nights. I was told you are reliable. We have an exclusive clientele, and discretion is very important.”

The offer was timely and, after hearing the details and doing some quick calculations he quoted what he thought would be on the high side of reasonable, including the hassle of driving to camp twice in one week. The director did not hesitate, “Is that color or black and white?”

“Black and white.”

“I would like everything shot in color. The families can chose if they want black and white prints. How will that affect the price?”

“Color will be an additional 25%.”

The campers were all sons of wealthy east coast business families and more than a sprinkling of “family” sons. Camp Nokomis, for girls, was located a hard half mile away and operated by the same family. However, it was not such a hard half-mile that “correspondence” between campers didn’t take place at a secluded grove about halfway between the camps.

After the first session Jerry was offered the franchise for the girls camp, also. The campers kept Jerry busy for the summer and kept the rent paid, also. There was a surprising amount of gossip from the boys concerning their father’s business activities. They all seemed eager to share the information with Jerry, as if there was a competition to impress him that my father is more important than the other fathers.

This offhand information was dutifully reported to Mark, who was amazed at some of the details. The fourth week Mark responded, “We checked out a couple items you reported the first and second week. The information is incredibly accurate. Don’t turn it off, whatever you do!”

The campers went home Labor Day, and Jerry fell back into his regular routine. In early November action picked up at the Tree house.

*********************************************************************

Saturday night Lois and Jerry finished dinner and headed for the bar. The Boys were celebrating at the other end. Lois quickly started “listening in” Card left the group to serve their drinks. The rarest of occasions all came together at one time. The Boys were talkative and Card wasn’t blocking the conversation. Jerry button-holed Card on the pretext of getting more picture business, maybe for picnics or graduation pictures. Card chatted for several minutes, long enough for Lois to hit the mother lode.

Frankie broke up the conversation, yelling and signaling for Card’s presence. Card dutifully hustled to the other end of the bar. In a moment he returned. “Strange you should be talking about more business, Vic wants to talk to you.”

“Vic?”

“You call him Grouchy. Vic Farino. The Boys call him Vic the Valentine.”

“Get outta here.”

Card was serious, “No, honest. He is getting so much on the side that his florist bill on Valentine’s day is over a grand. Vic the Valentine.”

Jerry shook his head in disbelief as he walked to the other end of the bar. Vic signaled Card to bring a beer for Jerry. Without bothering with a salutation Vic started in. “The kid has the lead in the senior class play. Her mother wants some pictures of her in the costume, all dolled up. You know? Can you do that next Friday night?”

“Which school?”

“Holy Angels, in Southbridge.”

“Oh man, Vic. I have a real early call Saturday, you know? Do they have dress rehearsal on Thursday?”

Vic wasn’t happy about being rebuffed, especially from Jerry, but he wasn’t going to screw up the situation for nothing. “Wait here.”

Vic went into the office. After a minute he returned, “For such a freaky looking guy I gotta admit you know your shit. The wife says dress rehearsal is Thursday and that would be a better time for pictures anyway. Seven O’clock. Don’t tell her I said she was right.”

Vic dug in his pocket and peeled off four $100 dollar bills. By now Jerry knew not to protest or comment. He could shoot the whole cast for that amount. “Thursday night it is, Vic. I won’t be able to deliver until the middle of the following week. You want them here?”

“Nah. Ask the kid for our address and bring them to the old lady. The week after will be fine. Whatever you can work out. There ain’t no rush as far as I care”

“You got it Vic. Thanks for the business.”

“Don’t think nothin’ of it.”

Jerry returned to Lois. “That is a nice gig.”

Jerry hesitated for just a second then smiled and gave her an indiscrete kiss full on the mouth. “I have to remember that I will never be able to keep any secrets from you.”

“Why would you want to?”

“I might want to surprise you with a gift.”

“Good save. I didn’t see how much he peeled off the roll.”

“Four Hundred.”

“That will make the trip worthwhile.”

“I think that is where Benny’s daughter goes to school, too. Maybe if he gets wind of this I will score another $400. That bratty daughter of Johnny Serantano goes there, too, although I think she is a year or two younger.”

“How can you remember all those kids?”

“They are paying the rent! All of the kids have had orthodontia. I take their picture this year, next year the braces are off, I take another picture. This year the girls don’t have breasts, next year they have a little cleavage; I take another picture. Their mom always makes sure the pose doesn’t show too much skin. You want to go with me Thursday night?”

“I guess so. Any special reason? It won’t be too late will it?”

“I can’t imagine the rehearsal lasting beyond nine. Ought to be out of there no later than ten I can have you home before eleven, worst case.”

“OK, but what’s the deal?”

“I have your company for the evening. Isn’t that enough?”

Lois pinched him. “That’s sweet, but, as you say, bogus.”

“Remember at the wedding Vic’s wife came on to me like I was the first man she had seen since puberty? I need an escort.”

“I’ll go. Let’s get out of here. I have news from the other side.”

In the car Lois ran through the conversation The Boys were having. A hijacking went without any problem. “Here is the interesting part. It wasn’t really a hijacking. The ‘victim’ just agrees to get tied up and slugged for a thousand dollars. The truck wasn’t coming from Canada, it was going to Canada with American cigarettes. The trailer is in Holyoke and will be unloaded tomorrow.”

Jerry sat quietly for a minute and then started the car without comment. Lois was surprised. “Care to tell me what is going on in your mind?”

“Not just yet. When we get to your place I think everything will be obvious.”

“You must have sex on your mind. At least I hope you do.”

“Don’t start peeling off your blouse quite yet. I will want two minutes to check out my theory.”

Lois waited until she had a glance from Jerry and then made a pouty face. “Just so it isn’t three minutes.”

In the house Jerry asked Lois to get her carton of cigarettes. He took a pack out, then took the pack out of his shirt pocket. He compared the bottoms. “Look.”

Lois took the two packs and examined the bottoms. Jerry explained, “Your pack was purchased at the supermarket, look at the tax stamp. Mine came from the machine at the Tree House this evening. The tax stamp is all messed up. It is counterfeit. No wonder The Boys stay in the vending machine business! They don’t pay for the cigarettes!”

Monday morning Lois was dressed and ready to leave the when she shook Jerry awake. “Hey cowboy, boots and saddles.” She gave Jerry a peck on the lips. “Don’t forget to unplug the coffee pot and the toaster before you leave.”

Jerry wasted no time as he showered and shaved. He swallowed a half cup of coffee to get going. He cleaned out the coffee pot and unplugged the toaster. He checked his pant pockets for keys and wallet. His hand came across the $400. He pulled it out, not remembering exactly what the wad was. As he briefly examined it he caught a musty smell. Bringing the wad to his nose he sniffed again. Definitely musty. He examined the bills. They looked OK, then he noticed Series 1947. Isn’t that special?

Jerry raced to Strathmore and pulled in right behind Mark. In the car Jerry said, “I heard they pulled off the hijacking. I have news on that.”

Mark quickly made notes. When Jerry got to the part about the hijacking being a putup Mark nodded. “That theory has been on our board. Good to know that at least some of the robberies are along those lines. Anything else?

Jerry leaned back against the seat and dug out the $400 from his pocket. “What do you make of this?”

Mark examined the money and was about to hand it back when Jerry said, “Sniff it.”

Mark sniffed and raised an eyebrow in response. “Check the series.”

Mark looked at the bills again. “Interesting, but not conclusive. $100 bills stay in circulation a lot longer than twenties, which stay in circulation longer than tens, etc. I would have to say I need something else in order to get excited. From the smell they could have been buried, or just in a tin can in a cellar.”

“OK. Anything else for me?”

“No. Thanks for all the good information. You are really helping us speed things along on several investigations.”

“That’s why I’m here!”

Jerry walked into the Tree House Monday afternoon. Card immediately challenged him about being absent the entire weekend. Jerry motioned him closer, as if to relate a secret. “Card, you know I get a lot of business here, right?” Card nodded. “But I don’t get any action while I’m here.”

Card smiled. “Benny wants to talk with you right away. I will get him on the phone. Come on back here so I don’t have to reach it over.”

Jerry went behind the bar while Card dialed the number. After a brief exchange he handed the handset to Jerry.

“You taking pictures of Vic’s kid at the play? Take some of my daughter, too. How much is Vic paying you? Yeah? That’s kind of cheap of him. Give me Card.”

Card listened silently for a few seconds, nodded, then spoke, “You got it Benny.”

He placed the handset on the cradle and went into the office. He returned and said, “Benny says give you this for the daughter’s pictures.” Jerry fanned five one hundred dollar bills and pushed them in his pocket.

“He is also buying dinner and drinks tonight.”

Jerry smiled and, as usual, gave a sincere sounding thank you.

Holy Angels girls school was an inconvenient bus ride from St. Benedict boys school. Class plays were one of the few co-ed activities for either school. The dress rehearsal had not started when Jerry and Lois arrived. Jerry caught the attention of a nun who was acting with more authority that the other two nuns. Jerry introduced himself and Lois and explained why they were there.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about having a professional photographer for the cast pictures.” Her previous stern demeanor melted quickly. “Would you mind taking a few snaps of the entire cast? It would mean a lot to some of these girls. Several don’t have parents who, shall we say, have the resources available for individual pictures.”

“Sister Helen, how about this? After the rehearsal you line up the girls and boys in any way you desire. I do have to have Francesca and Catherine as individuals. Would you like a few candids taken from the balcony during each scene to fill out your scrapbook?”

“Young man that would be excellent. Bless you.”

“Think nothing of it. I have plenty of film, I’m here for the evening and a few extra prints for the school is nothing. I do prefer a bit of discretion, if you will. Don’t let on I’m doing this for free.”

“Bless you, bless you. You say you are here for Mr. Antenucci? He is also very generous.”

“I have heard that, although my only connection with him is I take pictures of his family on occasion.”

Sister Helen departed for the dressing rooms to get her production underway. Several adults, nearly all women, filtered into the auditorium and took random seats in the middle.

Lois said she was going to stay with the audience as Jerry left to go to the balcony. Three students were at spotlight stations. Jerry smiled at them and set up his tripod and camera. A few minutes passed and the house lights dimmed and rose twice. A minute passed and the house lights dimmed. A long ten seconds passed and the curtain rose and the play was underway.

During a blackout between scenes a stage hand stumbled and tore a piece of scenery. Jerry thoughtfully did not take a picture of that scene. The characters had all been in the previous scene.

The play was without incident after that. One of the male characters needed frequent prompting.

Following the finale Jerry went to the main floor to set up for individual shots. Sister Helen ran the cast through with precision. Must have been a boot camp company commander.

Mrs. Farino came up after the session was done. She was sloshed. She must have been drinking during the play. There was no way she could have stayed that inebriated for three hours without an occasional booster. “That little woman says she is your assistant. If you needed help I could have been here to take care of you.”

She thrust a breast into Jerry’s left arm. “How do you like these melons, Freaky Boy? You want to play in the melon patch?”

Lois showed up just in time. “Careful, Honey. That cowboy has my brand on him.”

“Poo! (She actually said ‘poo’) take a look Freaky Boy, which melon patch would you rather roll around in? Huh?” She cupped the bottom of her breasts with her hands and hefted them. “This is where the cowboy wants to play, right here.”

Another woman came over. Jerry didn’t recognize her as part of the family. “Come on Becky, lets go home, it’s getting late.” Without protest Mrs. Farino turned and departed.

Lois looked at Jerry. Both were speechless, not only about the display from Mrs. Farino, but how easily the situation ended.

As they drove back to Springfield Lois said, “Mrs. Farino is quite the motor mouth. The warehouse in Holyoke where the cigarettes were taken; that is her warehouse. She inherited it from her Uncle, Three Finger Mickey DeGiarno. He never married. He left everything to his niece, Mrs. Farino. She is smart; Vic can’t get to her money. He can use the warehouse, actually she has a half dozen warehouses, but can’t spend a dime of her money. He treats her like dirt. She is an alcoholic, if you didn’t notice. You did notice, didn’t you?”

Jerry teased, “Kind of hard getting past her tits. Hadn’t gotten to her breath.”

Lois gave Jerry a playful punch in the arm. “Cowboy, if you weren’t so good in the saddle I would dump you in a heart beat.”

Jerry laughed, “And all this time I thought you were after my mind.”

For nine hundred dollars Jerry figured he better shoot the play in color, and on Friday he drove to his color processor. After the processing details were covered the lab man said, “Hey, remember that colored chick you set up a while back? Well she’s dead. It was a hit.”

Jerry stood in stunned silence. She left Springfield in January to work with a fashion photographer in Chicago.

Jerry’s stomach started turning. It was all he could do to keep from puking on the spot. He regained his composure after a minute. “Those bastards.” he mumbled.

“You know something about that?”

Very softly Jerry gave a quick account of their relationship and her former life. Now I’m really pissed. These bastards are going to pay, one by one, until I get them all.

It was noon when Jerry opened his apartment door to hear the phone ringing. It stopped before he could pick it up. He didn’t think much of it. Whoever it was would call back. He needed a shower, shave and clean clothes. While in the shower the phone rang again. He answered it, dripping on the handset and making a small puddle on the floor.

“Do you have time for a sitting this afternoon, at 2:30?”

“Yes, that will be fine. May I have your name? Thank you. I will see you then.”

Jerry drove to the Columbia Bicycle plant to leave some prints, and then to Woronoco for a late lunch. Stepping out of the café Jerry spotted Mr. Blue Suit in a car several car lengths behind Jerry’s parking spot. Jerry waved. Mr. Blue Suit saw him, but did not acknowledge the greeting.

Jerry drove back to the studio. He had speculated about the day that someone in Benny’s organization would latch onto the idea of following him.

At 3:00 a woman walked in the door with a pre-school girl. “I’m sorry I’m late. We had to change Donna’s dress at the last moment. The woman handed Jerry a note: “Sunoco at 5:30”

“Come on in. Is this just Donna, or do you want it to be the two of you?”

“Will it be extra for the two of us?”

“No, your pre-paid certificate is good for the whole family, but only one sitting. If you have other children at school, you would have to come back on Saturday.”

“It is just the two of us.”

“OK. Donna alone, then the two of you.” Jerry quickly posed the girl and then the mother with the girl on her lap. Six shots each and the sitting was done.

“You can stop by for proofs tomorrow.”

Jerry looked Mark in the eye. “They murdered Kitty. All she wanted was to leave this crap behind and follow her dreams. They followed her to Chicago. I mean what was she to them? Another whore in their stables? What kind of sense does that make? She was out of their lives.”

Mark stood silently. Jerry finally got his emotions in check. “Mrs. Farino is the niece of the late Three Finger Mickey. She inherited six warehouses from her uncle. That is where the cigarettes are taken. Shouldn’t be too hard to find the locations. Everything is in her name. Benny only gets free use.”

Mark’s jaw dropped. “He died twenty years ago. She couldn’t have been more than ten. No wonder we can’t run that down. Of course! We were searching for DeGiarno. Mickey’s brother, Luigi, died in a shootout and his wife took back her maiden name. That, my fair-haired friend, is a big, big piece of the puzzle.”

********************************************************************

Monday Jerry Drove to Hartford to pick up proofs. Jerry went to his favorite café and ordered a late breakfast. He picked up the house copy of the newspaper and started thumbing through it. In the regional news section there was a short item, dateline Springfield, “Police raided a suspected organized crime warehouse Saturday night and discovered over 1,000 cartons of cigarettes. Initial indications are the cigarettes were from a truck hijacked in Vermont last Wednesday. The warehouse manager has been detained for questioning.”

I’m glad Vic paid in advance. Maybe his wife will get it, too. I have to feel sorry for the children, they really don’t have any choices.

Vic was bailed out of Jail Monday afternoon following arraignment. He went home to his wife. The children were at their respective schools and probably knew nothing of the occurrence. Vic’s wife was waiting for him in the den. For a change she was stone sober. Vic went to her for a perfunctory kiss. When he straightened up two men grabbed him, rendered him unconscious and carried him out of the living area into the garage. Vic was bound, gagged and placed into the cavernous trunk of his car.

Jerry went through the stack of proofs from the play rehearsal and decided he could deliver them and be back to Springfield by 5:30.

Jerry went to the girls school first. The Sister-in-Charge was delighted with the proofs. She said she would mail Jerry the order in a few days. Jerry then drove over to Vic’s house.

Mrs. Farino answered the door. She was sober. She was dressed only in fine silk robe. The outline of her nipples showed on the fabric and her ample breasts, unsupported by a bra, hung lower than when she was clothed. Jerry noted that they didn’t just sag to her belly; the lady was naturally quite sexy. “Well, well, well. Freaky Boy. What can I do for you?”

“Just dropping off proofs from the play. Just give me a call when you have chosen the ones you like. They are numbered on the back. You know the drill, just like we did with the family pictures last year.”

“Sure you don’t want to stay for a few minutes? You know, a little sugar bonus?”

“If Vic found out I would be dead. If Lois found out it would be worse. No thanks. Not that you aren’t a very appealing offer. I just better stick to my pictures.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about Vic, love. He will never find out. He is, how do you say, ‘out of the picture.’” Mrs. Farino gave a knowing wink. Jerry had an unpleasant feeling in his stomach.

“No, thanks anyway. I have another appointment in any event.”

Jerry noticed Mr. Blue Suit parked a few houses down the street as he left. This time he did not acknowledge him. On the way into Springfield Jerry pushed through the last second of a yellow light and Mr. Blue Suit had to wait out the red light. He caught up with Jerry after weaving through traffic. He wasn’t a subtle tail.

Tuesday morning four charter buses pulled into the city hall area of Springfield. The small army of Massachusetts revenue agents in the buses went into the building. After a half hour they appeared to a waiting string of city and state vehicles. Each agent had a clipboard and a list of locations. They spent the day checking cigarette packs in vending machines throughout the region. Several hundred bars, gas stations, restaurants and barber shops were visited. Bootleg cigarettes were confiscated and citations written to the proprietors.

Card had advance notice. A local television reporter got wind of action by State Revenue Agents, caught one coming out of a downtown bar with a box of bootleg cigarettes and put two and two together. The report, based on some observations and some speculation, aired at noon; in the public interest and the public’s right to know. Card just happened to catch the story. He raced to a nearby store, bought four and five packs of seven different brands of cigarettes and went to the Tree House. When the agent arrived later in the afternoon the machine was nearly empty and the few packs of smokes all had legal stamps. The revenue agent made no comment, one way or the other.

For a Tuesday night there was an unusually large crowd at Tree House. Jerry and Lois speculated on the factors. Was it neighborhood people who knew this was a watering hole for The Boys, and they wanted to see the fireworks? Was it associates coming together for a war council? Maybe a bit of both?

Around seven an obvious meeting of The Boys was taking place at the end of the bar. Lois reported that the chat was all about the days activities. There was some concern a proprietor would start fingering the “cigarette salesmen.”

Another idea was floated: new accounts were setups by the state and feds. They wouldn’t have to rely on uncertain proprietors. This idea was quickly adopted and several locations were offered up as likely plants.

Mr. Blue Suit arrived around 7:15. He asked about Vic. No one had seen him. He didn’t make any appearance after getting out of jail on Monday. “Benny is very upset Vic has not stopped by to see him. Pass it along if you see Vic. Benny wants to see him today.”

Mr. Blue Suit waved off a drink and left.

The discussion at the end of the bar focused more on Vic. “He could be laying in a ditch somewhere.” “He could be in a hospital.” “No, he ain’t dead, Benny don’t work that way.” “He might just be on the lam.”

Card hid the conversation while refreshing drinks. Lois said, “These guys are in a panic. They are also in the dark about what is going on. They are worried someone is going to drop a dime on them.”

Jerry said, “Are you worried someone will drop a dime on you?”

Lois looked at him with astonishment. “Where did that come from?”

“We need to get out of here right now. I know you want to make a short evening of it, but let’s go to your place and I will explain.” Jerry left money for the drinks and they left without so much as a customary “see you tomorrow” for Angie or Card.

At Lois’ house she said, “What is going on?”

“You are moving your lips.”

Lois looked at Jerry as if he were from another planet.

“For the first time since we met you were moving your lips while reading the conversations. That has to be an unconscious nervous reaction. I had to get you out of there immediately. All that had to happen was for one of The Boys to look at you and see you repeating what he was saying and we would both be in the hospital, if not worse.

“Honey, this has been an intriguing game, but it has to stop right now. No more lip reading, OK?”

Lois was quiet for several minutes. She wrapped her arms around Jerry and he held her tight. She wasn’t crying or shaking. They stood there in a silent clinch. She finally spoke softly in his ear, “You really are my cowboy. You are my wild west hero. I love you very much, Jerry. I didn’t realize that was happening, and you are right; that could have been a serious situation. I need to admit that I have been worried about you. I worry that your involvement is going to end up getting you hurt.

Lois started sobbing. Jerry held her tight. He waited a minute before trying to comfort her.

Jerry’s words calmed Lois. They were still in a clinch. Something sparked deep within Lois and there was an immediate need for release of tension and sex was the only way of fulfilling the need.

Lois pulled her face away from Jerry’s shoulder so he could see her. “I need you. Right now. I need you inside me, right now.” She started moving them to the bedroom. She released herself from Jerry and pushed him on the bed. She pulled off her panties while she stood over Jerry. Jerry was a bit stunned, but managed to unbuckle his pants and was working the zipper when Lois was stepping out of her skirt. Lois was not willing to wait for Jerry to get out of his pants at his pace. She grabbed the waist band and dragged the pants and underpants down to his knees. Jerry was ready and Lois mounted him. Lois screamed from self inflicted pain, but she didn’t care. She heaved up and down on Jerry yelling, screaming, whimpering.

Although aroused, Jerry was not excited. It was as if he was just there to provide a projectile for Lois’ vagina. The act had nothing to do with love and nothing to do with romance. The act might be argued to be an act of affection from Jerry meeting Lois’ needs, but that argument is for those who think the world just needs to give peace a chance. The act was pure animal sex, bordering on sexual assault.

It wasn’t that Jerry was uninvolved, he participated, but despite the friction and the deep heat inside Lois, Jerry wasn’t on the way to a quick climax, and the notion passed through his mind.

Lois ripped off her blouse and sloughed her bra. Her garter belt and hose were not getting in the way of anything. She ripped open Jerry’s shirt and pressed her breasts against his chest, all the while thrusting continuously.

“Put your hand down there, right now.”

Jerry complied He fumbled for several seconds in the moist patch of hair. He felt the clitoris for a split second, Lois settled on his finger and instantly shuddered from the orgasm. She shuddered again and again. The thrusting started again. Occasionally there was another orgasmic shudder. “Now cowboy, now. Come. Now, cowboy, I want to feel it now.”

As if on command, Jerry ejaculated with a physical release he had never before experienced.

Lois cooed in his ear. She lay on top of him, but continued the up and down motion. “I love the feeling of you inside me. There is no better feeling than feeling the pressure come and go.” She said no more. The thrusting continued at an ever slowing pace for nearly ten minutes. Jerry ejaculated a second time at the end.

Lois lay on top of Jerry. Jerry’s slowly dying erection finally stopped having its desired effect and Lois rolled off. “Oh, God, I needed that. I needed that so much. You are so good.” She kissed Jerry. “God, you are good.”

Jerry smiled, gave Lois a gentle kiss, put his finger on her lips to keep her from talking, and pulled her close to his side. They wrapped around each other and soon fell asleep: clothes scattered over the room, Jerry’s pants and shorts in a wad at the foot of the bed, Lois still in her hose.

The following morning Jerry drove to Strathmore. He waited nearly a half hour before Mark arrived..

“Mr. Blue Suit is tailing me. He isn’t hiding the fact, either.”

“I knew you had a good reason not to show yesterday. What’s up?”

“The Boys are in panic mode. The cigarette busts have them looking at each other. Maybe me, too. Vic got bailed out and disappeared. My hunch is he is dead and his wife bought the hit. There were two fresh faces in the bar Sunday night, but I don’t think they did it. Benny likes to have people suffer, and death is not suffering enough for him.

“We can’t use Lois anymore. She is getting too nervous at Tree House. I had to make her leave last night.” Mark looked up from his pad and raised an eyebrow. “She started moving her lips as she was reading The Boys conversation.”

“Why do you think Mrs. Farino had Vic hit?”

“The word at the bar is Vic had something going on the side. I think Mrs. Farino found out about it. Also, remember that musty money? I think that money belonged to Mrs. Farino I think it was part of old money left over from her father and uncle, and Vic found it in one of the warehouses.”

“Who is he shacking with?”

“Lois and I saw him with a cocktail waitress at Sicilian Grill last year. I don’t know that he saw us. He didn’t say anything that night and never mentioned it afterwards. Her name is Cecilia. CC for short; small rib cage, oversize breasts.”

“All right, Sherlock. Which warehouse?”

“I don’t know. You have the locations, I don’t.”

Mark thought about that for a few minutes. “It didn’t make the news, but we also found several truck loads of either boot leg or stolen booze in one of the warehouses. The property on Front Street in Chicopee has an excavated foundation; not really a basement, but there was some old iron and left over machinery from the days it was a factory. That is damp and musty. We still have an active warrant. I will check it out.”

Mark reached behind his chair and retrieved a zippered portfolio. He opened it and retrieved a package of photos. “Any of these your new faces?”

Jerry thumbed through the pack and had two set aside before he got halfway through. He looked at the rest and then said, “These two: no doubt about it.”

Mark just nodded. Jerry knew not to ask, just as he did not enquire about the packages or any activities going on around him. Whatever Jerry didn’t know he couldn’t repeat.

Jerry sensed investigators were closing in The Boys, and since he wouldn’t use Lois anymore he would no longer have advance knowledge of shipments and deliveries. “I might end up being asked Friday night to do something Saturday. How do I alert you?”

“I have a new drop. The Mobil station between your place and the Tree House. It is open 24 hours. There is a red haired guy working there in the evenings as mechanic. Don’t talk to the pump jockey, talk to the mechanic. Tell him Tiny said he can fix you up with a new set of tires. If you have to go a second time, make it a muffler or something else. The important part is ‘Tiny said he can fix you up.’ For anything that can be done routinely stay with the existing phone setup.”

Jerry nodded. Mark gathered pictures and placed them in the portfolio. “Keep at it Jerry. I know I keep telling you, but it is straight up. You are our top asset in this region..

Mark slid out the back door. Jerry used the pay phone in the station to call Lois at the house. They agreed to meet for drinks at Tree House.

Lois was waiting for Jerry as he walked in. Her drink was half gone. He saddled up next to her and gave her a quick kiss. “How was your day?”

“Sore! I think I tore something inside. I can’t say how badly I needed that and I can’t say how careful I will be not to do that again.”

“Speaking of being careful not to do that again, have you been looking at the papers or television the past few days? The Boys are getting some big time hassle from the law. They are going to be looking for rats, if they aren’t already. I don’t think it will be wise for us to be observing anymore conversations.”

Lois nodded with a pensive look. “That isn’t going to be a challenge. Jerry, I’m very sorry, but tonight is going to be our last night for a long time. I’m going to London tomorrow.”

Jerry was stunned. After a moment Lois continued, “Actually I will spend the morning tomorrow getting my things packed, then a car is taking me to Boston. Friday I fly PanAm from Boston to London.”

Jerry found his voice, “Why the sudden change? I thought we would have another six months before you leave!”

“One of the key people in England died in an automobile accident last week. They want me yesterday, Jerry. I’m so sorry. I will miss you so much.” Lois leaned to him and gave him a brush with her lips against his.

“Will you come back?”

“Will you be here?”

“I am hoping to get out of Springfield soon. I will be in Minneapolis, The opportunities are better and I have a friend who has been pestering me for over a year to get back there. I can find opportunities for you, too. I don’t want this to end, Lois. I don’t want you to say, ‘We will always have Westfield.’ Say you will be back with me when you return.”

Lois had a sad look in her eye. A tear started to fall. “I was afraid of this Jerry. The first night we met I was afraid I would fall for you, that circumstance would tear us apart. I can’t promise anything, Jerry. I have devoted my entire adult life to what I do and I don’t know if there is room in my life to devote to you the energy you deserve along with the energy my job demands.”

“I understand Lois. When we met I told you I understand. Just tell me you will send a letter now and then. If you decide I’m not to be part of your life, just change the letter from Dear Jerry to Dear John.”

Lois nodded. She snatched a couple of drink napkins from the waitress station and dabbed her eyes. She gave Jerry another kiss and swung her chair around to leave. “I love you Jerry. I’m sorry if this hurts you. I love you with all my heart.” Lois stood and walked out of the bar and out of Jerry’s life.

Jerry stared at his beer. He had been crushed before; high school romances, that gal in St. Johns, Newfoundland, when he was in the Navy. Lois was more than crushing. Jerry was devastated. Jerry had fantasies of Lois and he getting married and living in Minneapolis, maybe near Lake Harriet, or Lake Nokomis.

Jerry left his beer and went to the studio. Mr. Blue Suit followed him. Jerry didn’t care.

Jerry opened a bottle of 12 year old scotch, a present from Morris. Jerry wasn’t one who normally drank alone and he had been saving the scotch for a special occasion. Tonight the prospects of ever having a special occasion to open the scotch for seemed gone forever.

Thursday broke clear and sunny. Sunlight finally streamed through Jerry’s bedroom window and found Jerry’s body at 10:30. Jerry moaned and half fell, half stood to get out of bed. He was still in his clothes. The scotch bottle lay on the floor. Not much spilled; Jerry had consumed most of it. Jerry staggered into the bathroom. After a few sways around the commode he started puking. He was cognitive enough to hit the commode bowl. He got himself under control after the fourth dry heave. He staggered back to bed and passed out for several more hours.

Somewhere there was an irritating sound. It would sound for a few seconds, then stop. It kept happening over and over. A bridge; a stone bridge built by WPA, 1938, over Minnehaha Creek. It made this strange noise. That big house sitting in the middle of the bridge with the dog barking out the open window on the second story. Now the street car is coming to pick me up. The sound is coming from the street car. No, it is a bus. The street car tracks have been ripped up or paved over years ago, before the house was moved to the middle of the picnic pavilion in Minnehaha Park. The bus can’t stop. It is going down the ski jump with a toboggan on top and six teenagers along for the ride. The sound is coming from the Ford Dam. Finally it stopped. Why did it stop? Did someone turn off the Mississippi river? Maybe the checkout girl at Hove’s will break this $30,000 bill, even though it smells like decomposing rat turds. She has such a nice smile. Her Pepsodent smile was on the back cover of last week’s Coronet. “Fuck You Sailor with Pepsodent. Yes, that’s right sailor even the dullest smile can be turned into a flashing smile in just three short weeks with Pepsodent.” The porter at the old air terminal on 34^th Avenue is asking, “Can I carry your sea bag, sailor? You don’t want to sit on that all the way to Robinsdale now, do you?” The little airplanes that swing around at Kopp’s Kiddieland aren’t quite up to the weight; the supporting arm buckles and dumps the observer into a Jello mold, filled with lime Jello and cottage cheese salad. “Jesus is your salvation. If you just let Jesus into your life…”

Maybe the FREAKING PHONE will stop ringing!

Jerry regained consciousness and sat on the edge of the bed. His head throbbed. Jerry had never tied one on that bad, ever. The day was nearly over. Jerry really hadn’t come around to why he even existed, let alone why he had gotten so drunk. Some behavioral instinct motivated him to stand, get out of his clothes and go stand in a shower. It took several minutes under the water to realize the water wasn’t a good temperature. He washed his body from top to bottom. Thinking he forgot to do his armpits, he started all over again, this time from toes up.

Yeah, Jerry. That’s who I am. Westfield. It is starting to come back now. Jerry stopped showering. A few passes with the bath towel. I would like to find that dog that shit in my mouth. Jerry grabbed the Lavoris bottle and took a swig. He swished his mouth vigorously (maybe), leaned over the sink as if to expectorate, and swallowed the mouth wash.

Of all the things the stomach did not want to have arrive at that time, mouth wash was high on the list. This time Jerry didn’t make it to the commode and spewed red liquid all over the wall. Jerry stumbled back to the bed and passed out, somewhat wet and entirely naked.

“Hey! Hey buddy! Hey! Wake up! There you go! C’mon buddy. Let me see those eyes!”

Jerry felt a slight stinging on his cheeks as he opened his eyes, and slowly figured out his assailant was an ambulance technician. “There you go, buddy! Had a hard night? Is that what we have here? Wrap this blanket around you. You were close to going down to hypothermia.”

Jerry’s head still hurt. He nodded. “Maybe some coffee will help. How come you are here?”

“My partner is fixing a pot of coffee for you. Some lady called, said she knew you were here but not responding.”

“That’s good. Yes, that is very nice of you. Ooooooooooooh, that was not smart.”

The ambulance team stayed with Jerry while he dressed and was starting on his second cup of coffee. He had the shakes, but not so bad, and was coherent. His head throbbed, but that would disappear with time. The time was 9:30 something Thursday night. Jerry walked out in the frosty evening air with the ambulance crew.

“Thanks for coming out, guys. Who knows what might have happened.” Jerry noticed Mr. Blue Suit’s car across the street. “Excuse me, did you guys notice that car when you drove in?”

“I was in the back,” was the first reply.

The driver said, “Yeah it was there. I noticed two people in the car. Men. That’s all I can say.”

The other attendant said, “Yeah. I saw them. Why?”

John said, “Usually there aren’t any cars out here except mine and the folks on this side of the street. You said two men? I only see one. Isn’t it the other way around, me seeing double?”

The driver said, “There was a second car parked here. It’s gone now.”

The trio studied the car. The attendant who rides in the back said, “I don’t like the posture of that guy. I’m going to check this out.” He walked briskly to the car and peered in. He retrieved a flashlight from a belt loop and shined the light on the man sitting in the passenger seat.”

“This guy is hurt. Looks real bad. Call the police.”

The other two responded as they were trained. The second riding technician grabbed the response bag and the driver made a call on the radio for police assistance.

The man in the car was dead. The ambulance crew was trained not to do anything if they determined a victim was dead. “Wait for the Medical Examiner to show up, give him a statement, stay out of the way unless asked for assistance.”

The driver made the report on the radio. Sirens were fast approaching.

The uniformed responders made a cursory examination of the scene and made radio reports. There was conversations with the ambulance crew, some note-taking. When interviewed, each ambulance driver would point to Jerry. Eventually one of the policemen came over to Jerry to get his story.

“I have been passed out since last night sometime. I’m only slightly aware of what is happening right now. I’m sorry I can’t help you out much. I think these guys saved my life.”

“How about the car? Do you recognize the car?”

“Yeah, I think so. I see it from time to time in the lot at the Tree House.”

“C’mon over to the car. Tell me if you recognize the guy in the car.”

At the car Jerry said, “With all the blood on his face I don’t know that I would recognize anyone. No, I can’t say I have ever seen him, although there were two guys at the bar the other night that seemed to be visitors from out of town. I don’t know. I wish I could help you out on this, but I just am not real clear on anything yet.”

“Why the drunk? This something you do all the time?”

“No, officer. My girlfriend left me on short notice. That’s all. Simple story: I got dumped, I got drunk.”

“Well, let me tell you buddy, ain’t no woman worth killing yourself over. The ambulance guys said you almost bought the farm.”

Jerry nodded. No argument in any of that.

It was over an hour before detectives arrived on the scene, followed a few minutes later by a photographer and nearly another hour after that for the Medical Examiner to arrive. There were more questions for everyone. A few neighbors were aware of the commotion and came out to get a close look. Others were perched at their windows, wanting to see what was happening without the risk of becoming involved. For several minutes bright flashes from the photographers strobe light gained folks attention.

Mrs. Girard, two doors away, waved down a detective and had a brief chat. Jerry heard one excited exchange, “ Young man, I tell you I called about this last night. A patrol came out and talked to the man in the car and then left.” Her voice quieted and Jerry could hear no more.

After three hours of standing around and sporadic questioning the scene started to dismantle. The medical examiner enlisted the aid of the ambulance crew and removed the body from the car, placed it in a body bag on a wheeled stretcher and then loaded it into the back of the coroner’s vehicle. A police wrecker was standing by and hooked onto the car and drove off. The detectives and uniformed officers had a brief chat and then got in their respective vehicles, turned off the emergency lights, and drove off.

The neighbors went back to their houses. Jerry was still standing on the sidewalk, looking at the now deserted street. Aside from a few chalk marks in the street there was no indication anything ever happened there. How is it someone can be murdered someplace and a few hours later the crime has been erased from our presence?

Jerry went back into his apartment, watched the end of Johnny Carson, straightened up his bed and clothing, set the clock and decided that Friday would be a normal day.

Friday was a normal day. Jerry worked around the lab, walked to the diner in Westfield for lunch and spent a half hour talking with neighbors about the situation the night before. A walk-in for class pictures late in the afternoon filled out his day.

Jerry didn’t go to the Tree House that night. He wasn’t going to learn anything now that Lois was gone and he didn’t feel like just sitting there alone, or fighting off Angie. The local Television station was broadcasting Boston Hockey, so he watched that to the end, and then turned in for a regular night’s sleep.

Monday morning at Strathmore Jerry related the events of Wednesday and Thursday. “There was something funny going on at the investigation. A neighbor claimed she called the cops earlier about the parked car, that a patrol came around and did nothing. The detective blew her off, didn’t take note of that fact or ask for her name. The police asked me if I recognized the car or the passenger. I just said I had seen the car around, maybe at Tree House parking lot. I have seen the victim around, but just occasionally, so I said no to him. He was covered in blood and messed up bad, the detective didn’t push. I was in bad shape and I don’t think he wanted me to be able to identify the victim.”

“We have that covered. Do you know Vic showed up on Thursday afternoon?” Jerry shook his head. “His car was dumped at sea, with Vic in the trunk. Preliminary results indicate he was alive when they dumped the car and he drowned. Somebody is going to be very upset about this. The car was supposed to be dumped in deep water, but it was barely submerged. A fishing boat ran into it at low tide. It took us until Friday afternoon to recover the car and Vic. We have the barge operator. He didn’t hesitate to give up two Boston boys. Says it was pure bad luck on his part; that sand bar wasn’t there six months ago.”

“Now I have some really bad news. That really nice photo you took of Little Jimmy Giacomo, Joe Patriarca’s lieutenant, surfaced at the FBI office in Boston. However, it wasn’t the one you gave me. Here is the really bad part. It was on an agent’s desk in more or less plain view. He didn’t put it out of sight before interviewing a Boston soldier. The agent was called from his desk for a telephone call. He returned, finished the interview and after the interviewee left the agent discovered the photo was missing.”

“How long ago did this happen?”

“I just heard of it this morning. The interview was coming up on two weeks ago.”

“And you are positive it wasn’t a copy of what I gave you?”

“Absolutely. The agent said the print had your rubber stamp plus a penciled number on the back. The prints you gave me didn’t have any of that, of course.”

“The only place it could have come from then is from Lui, the groom. Is he on somebody’s string in Boston?”

“That could be. We don’t share our informants, just in case there is an internal problem.”

“I am surprised this hasn’t come back to Benny yet.”

“It may have. Mr. Blue Suit may have been waiting for the right circumstance.”

Jerry wasn’t feeling well all of a sudden. “This is way more than I was expecting.”

“We can’t control everything. The facts are that we control very little of this. Try to stay cool. I will get someone to cover you. Stay at the studio. I can’t give you a weapon. In any event having one might be more dangerous than not having one.”

“I can handle a weapon, if that is your worry.”

“I can’t furnish it.”

Jerry was worried. The meeting was over.

As Jerry turned into the parking spot next to the studio a car across the street drove off.

Jerry was in the studio about five minutes when the phone rang. “This is Benny. We need to talk. You stay put, OK?”

“Yeah Benny, OK.”

Benny showed up with Mr. Blue Suit. Benny told Mr. Blue Suit to wait in the studio area when he and Jerry went into the kitchen. “Mr. Patriarca is very unhappy about that picture you took of his man, Little Jimmy, at the wedding.”

Jerry said nothing, but gave a pleading look and a shrug.

Benny reached in his pocket and took out the picture. It was a little worse for wear. “Where did this come from.”

Jerry shrugged. “It’s on the back, Benny. There should be my rubber stamp and a number. Everything I have done for you has the rubber stamp with my contact information and a penciled number. That is how I keep track of what goes out. Everything I do is marked.”

Benny looked at the back and scowled. “Then you admit this is your print?”

“Yes Benny. You paid for it, remember?”

“Don’t get smart with me, sonny.”

“I don’t mean to sound like I’m getting smart, Benny, I’m being straight with you. If you let me see the number I can tell you exactly everything there is to know about that print.”

Benny gave him the print. He was growing impatient. Jerry said, “Twenty-Seven Charlie.” Jerry got a ledger off a shelf and laid it on the desk. He opened it to a page. “You are ‘Benny’: all of the ‘Charlie’ series prints went to Lui’s mother.” Your wife has the ‘Bravo’ series and Maria and Lui have the ‘Alpha’ series.”

Benny was not happy. Jerry, feeling a bit more confident because he proved his point and had not been shot yet, pressed on. “Benny, here is my ledger. I didn’t just make this up. Every photograph I do for everyone is coded. That is how I make sure everyone gets exactly what they ordered. Call your wife. Ask her to look on the back of any photo. You will see I’m telling the truth.

Benny sat down on a kitchen chair Jerry used at the desk. He stared at the back of the photo for several minutes. He never looked at it real close, or moved it around. he just stared at the evidence before him. Jerry’s Photography – Commercial – Portraits – Weddings Westfield, Mass. 717 -555-2800 _____________ Order Number __________Print Number.

Finally Benny spoke. “You got the invoice from the lab on these?”

“No, there isn’t a lab involved with these. These are all black and white and I did them here.”

“Where is set D”

“Those are in my sample album. That’s in the front room.”

Benny yelled over his shoulder, “You see a photo album out there, dick head?”

“Yeah”

“I want to see it.”

The album appeared in a few seconds. Mr. Blue Suit lingered. Benny snarled, “I didn’t say I wanted you, I said the album. Go on.” Mr. Blue Suit left.

Benny looked at the ledger. Then he looked at the album and found a matching picture. Benny said, “If this don’t match, you are dead.”

Benny pulled the picture of his daughter standing in a formal pose in front of the altar. He turned it over. 4D. Benny looked at the back of the print in silence for a long time. Jerry didn’t dare move. Benny finally reached some kind of conclusion, carefully replaced the picture in the album, looked at the fronts of a few more pictures of the happy couple, and then gently closed the album.

“Shit for brains, get in here.”

Mr. Blue Suit appeared in a second. “Put this back where you got it. If you so much as leave a fingerprint on it you will be back to filling vending machines.”

“I knew I could trust you, Jerry. From the moment I laid eyes on you I knew I could do business with you. Some of my associates, they don’t like strangers. They don’t have much business acumen. You: you got your shit together. Acumen: you got it. These galoops, they don’t know for business. They don’t know that sometimes it is best to go outside the family for things. Accountants, lawyers, ya know. They ain’t family. Bunch of Hebes. Keep their focus on the task at hand, don’t ask no questions, don’t try to get more of the action than they have. Know what I’m talking about , Jerry? That’s you. Don’t ask nothin’, not looking for a bigger piece of the pie. You a Hebe, Jerry? Not that it makes no difference. I respect the Jews, ya know. They have acumen, too. Shit for brains, here, he is trying to convince me that all of the bad stuff that is happening wasn’t happening before you came on the scene. He has; what is it my daughter said? Selective memory. That’s it. He has selective memory. He ignores the busts that happened long before you ever showed up. He ignores that when you make a delivery everything arrives in the same condition it left in. I’m glad you have your shit together, Jerry. And I’m glad I know exactly where this print came from. That little incident that happened the other night across the street. Don’t worry about it anymore. And let me tell you this. You are a smart kid, and I know you are very observant. You think you see any of my boys playing footsy with you, you call me. You understand that, don’t you Jerry? It is very simple, I call the shots. You think any of these guys are going into business for themselves, you let me know. I don’t want anyone hassling my private assets.

“Now that all of that is settled, I got some new business for you.”

Jerry put up his hand to stop the conversation. “I really don’t want to do any more deliveries for you, Benny. The money has been extremely good, but my delivery stands out too much and I’m concerned somebody is feeding information out of the family, if you know what I mean. I see the papers, Benny. I saw the report on Farino on TV.”

Benny nodded. He didn’t need to be reminded about recent losses, and Jerry’s rebuff irritated him, but not so much for him to express it. “No, this is studio work for you. You are right about the deliveries. No, there is just some photography work, very discrete, not a gold mine for you, but it will be steady and the rate will keep your doors open.”

I can’t wait to hear this!

“An associate has some photo processing he needs done. It is all black and white for now. He may want color work done down the road. Develop the film and make prints according to directions. Mail the prints back to the associate.”

Jerry was hesitant. “All right. The black and white isn’t a problem. Color I would have to gear up for. There are new processes available that will allow me to do some color work here. I don’t think I can afford the equipment right now.”

“If you need equipment I can loan you the money for it. You let me know when you need it.”

I will freeze in Hell before that deal is made! “All right. When does this start?”

“You will get film in the mail in a few days, along with some details. If there is any problem with the price schedule let me know immediately.

“Card says you haven’t been coming in lately.”

Jerry felt the weight of the world lifted from his shoulders. “Lois left town for her work on short notice. I haven’t felt much like being out the past few nights.”

Benny nodded. He stood, “Classy lady there. Maria had a lot of compliments about the way she handled the wedding, which is saying a lot. I hate to say it about my own daughter but she can be a nasty little bitch.

“Don’t stay away too long. You know you will always have friends at Card’s. If something comes up will you be here during the day?”

“Yeah. I’m in and out quite a bit, but usually here late afternoons always. I will be back in action again after a few days. After I get a letter or two from Lois I will be all right.”

Benny dug into his pocket and without looking tossed a wad of bills on Jerry’s desk. Jerry was about to ask, but Benny just said, “That is for the hassle. And don’t worry about me, I will get it back from mumble –fuck.” Benny motioned toward the other room.

The conversation was over. Benny and Mr. Blue Suit left without further comment. Jerry’s knees were weak and he slumped into the chair. After several seconds he reached for the wad of bills. One thousand two hundred forty dollars in 100’s, 50’s and 20’s.

Jerry mustered enough strength to stand. He walked down the street to the diner to use the pay phone. “I need to speak with Agent O’Dell immediately. Come to the shop.”

An hour or so went by and a telephone repair truck parked behind Jerry’s car. A man in Phone company livery came to the back door. It was Mark.

Jerry quickly went over the meeting with Benny. “I am thinking that Lui’s mother is the source for your agent in Boston, or someone very close to her. In any event, I doubt Benny is going to take much time getting his plan of action together. He said the print came via Patriarca and that every time the subject of Little Jimmy being photographed comes up, Patriarca gets violent. So, maybe Benny won’t do anything except pass on the information to Patriarca and Patriarca will take care of the situation. The good news is Benny has convinced himself I’m more reliable than Mr. Blue Suit. For the time being I think Benny is going to leave me alone and I’m not going over to the Tree House for a few days.”

“You did the right thing calling immediately. I will call Boston and have the agent there get the informant out of sight, if possible.”

The phone rang. After listening for a brief period Jerry said, “You can just read the numbers over the phone, that will be good enough. It is 50 miles each way for me and rush hour is just starting. Yes, Ma’am. Yes, Ma’am. If you insist. Yes, Ma’am. It will take me an hour to drive and I have photo’s in the soup that need to be taken care of, so it will be at least an hour before I leave here. You don’t care. All right. I will be out in a couple hours. Can I say no to that? All right, I will have dinner. Do I have to dress? Dress for dinner, it is an upper class thing. All right. I will see you in a couple hours.”

“Mrs. Farino. I wonder what her story will be?”

Mrs. Farino met Jerry at the front door. She was wearing a thin, black nylon negligee with an equally thin matching robe that sported fuzz at the collar and lapels and black, open-toed high heeled shoes with matching fuzz poms. All of her glorious, generous body lay exposed underneath. “C’mon in Freaky Boy. I have been waiting for you.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to be in that get up.”

Mrs. Farino gave Jerry a quizzical look, and then said, “What would you expect? I’m in mourning. I’m a good Catholic girl and I have to wear black for the rest of my life.”

Jerry feigned innocence. “I don’t understand.”

“What are you, some kind of idiot? Vic said you are an idiot. Listen, Freaky Boy, Vic, my late husband, is dead.”

Jerry feigned surprise and confusion. “I am sorry, Mrs. Farino. I didn’t know.”

“Didn’t Card tell you?”

“I haven’t seen Card since the last time I saw you, as a matter of fact.”

“That’s the story. So no bull shit about not screwing another guy’s wife. I ain’t another guy’s wife anymore. Come on, Cowboy, I want to see what that lady friend of yours is so proud of. She grabbed Jerry by the hand and started pulling him to the bedroom. Jerry found himself ambivalent to the whole situation and followed her.

In the bedroom Mrs. Farino shed the robe and did a little pose for Jerry, cupping her breasts and wiggling them in his face. She undressed Jerry as he was standing and finally pulled him down on top of her as she fell backward into the bed.

She reached down between his legs. “Oh, you are a stallion!” The negligee was still separating their two bodies, but not so it made any difference to Jerry. He could feel the heat and texture of her breasts against his chest. She grabbed Jerry’s Penis and guided it to her vagina. She wiggled a little bit to ensure he was in the place, “Push, cowboy, push.”

Jerry pushed. She was hot and liquid. Whatever she was doing or thinking before Jerry arrived, she was ready. Foreplay was not necessary tonight. Jerry felt strangely detached to the situation. He was just kind of along for the ride, so to speak. He was in a decent thrusting rhythm and Mrs. Farino was gyrating at her own pace. “Nibble my nipples, nibble my ears.” Jerry complied, although the negligee was now an impediment. She cursed and ripped open the front, all the while Jerry was keeping up the rhythm.

After several minutes she reached between her legs, fingered herself a few strokes and exploded into orgasm. Jerry kept on thrusting. Mrs. Farino slowed her participation, “You are good, cowboy.” She quickened her gyrations and in a few minutes Jerry ejaculated. “See there cowboy, how much fun this can be?”

There wasn’t any embrace, no pretense of tenderness or affection associated with this intimate encounter. Mrs. Farino was projecting her power. “OK, you can get off.” Jerry rolled off. He looked around to see if this fancy house had a bathroom off the master bedroom. It did. Without asking or comment he got out of the bed, grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom. He washed down his genitals, peed, and dressed.

He came out of the bathroom to find Mrs. Farino dressing. “Fasten my bra, will you honey?”

Jerry complied, asking, “Which row?”

Middle row was the answer. There were three hooks and Jerry was lucky to catch them all on the first try.

“Thanks for the sex, Cowboy. It has been a long time. That ass hole Vic was screwing every woman east of Springfield except me. What do you think?”

“I think he was missing out on some good ass, right at home.”

With increasing volume and pitch she yelled “Your damn right! Sonofabitch. Well, he ain’t getting any now.”

That seemed to settle her down. Whatever hormones were released or needed modifying or whatever, her personality changed.

“Vic said you did some odd jobs for Benny. I have an odd job. I know I can trust you, cause Benny said you are our friend.

“For as big a philanderer as Vic was, he was a good provider. But that is gone now, so I have to use some other resources. I need you to dig up some money that is buried in Holyoke. No hassles, no snags, I just need some muscle I can trust.”

“There seem to be plenty of family members who could do this for you.”

“Don’t get too nosey, Cowboy. This is easy and quick and you get 10%. $15,000 in unmarked cash for an hours work. Now, are you in?”

“Vic already got to it.”

She screamed, “What?? How the hell would you know that, Freaky Boy?”

“He has been passing out old, musty smelling bills for months. Ever since I came here he has been passing them out.” Jerry reached in his pocket and peeled one of the musty $100 bills from his money clip and handed it to her.

She sniffed it. Then she took it to a nearby table lamp, turned on the lamp and looked at the bill. “That rotten sonofabitch!” she screamed in fury. She grabbed the table lamp and threw it across the room. “You, you bastard. How do you know this? Were you in this with him?”

“I told you. He was paying everyone, including me, with these bills. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out he was digging up money from someplace.”

Mrs. Farino screamed. “Jesus Christ, that bastard. That wasn’t his money. It isn’t my money. That money belongs to Patty.”

Jerry asked, “Was it all buried in one place? Maybe he didn’t get it all.”

Mrs. Farino came to her senses for a second and looked at the bill again. “Maybe you aren’t as worthless as everyone says. Yes, I think you hit upon something. Let me think.”

After a minute she said. “Be here at 10:30 tomorrow morning. Buy a couple of shovels. Regardless of the take, you get 25%, minimum $15,000.”

Tuesday morning was cold and rainy with the prospects of freezing rain later in the day and a 40% chance of snow, some accumulation on grassy areas. Jerry wasn’t happy about the prospects of driving an overpowered sedan delivery on ice. He was more unhappy with the potential bad outcome from a wreck than whatever might be in store with Mrs. Farino.

He dutifully bought a couple of shovels (two different types, just in case) and drove to the Farino residence. A brand new black Chrysler sedan was parked in the driveway. Splatter from the rainy roads marred the otherwise shiny finish. Jerry hesitated a moment, not knowing if he should go into the house or not. He grabbed a large envelope with pictures in it from the floor behind the seat and went to the door.

Mr. Blue Suit answered the door. “Whachoo doin’ here, Freaky Boy?”

“Delivering pictures Mrs. Farino ordered. Class play pictures of her daughter and Benny’s daughter, too.” Jerry held up the envelope.

“Yeah, well, all right.”

Mrs Farino came to the door. “Good morning, Jerry. I see you have the prints. Nice of you to bring them out. Mr. Digilio here was just leaving, weren’t you?”

“I’m leaving.” Turning to Jerry he said, “I still think there is something phony about you, Freaky Boy. And that girlfriend of yours, too.”

Jerry said nothing, and Mr. Blue Suit finally went to his car, mumbling.

Mrs. Farino said, “Come in for a minute and give him a chance to get out of the neighborhood. This isn’t a good day for digging.”

Jerry said, “No, it isn’t. If it gets icy later on it will be horrible for driving. Are you sure you want to do this today.”

“Yes. If it gets bad while we are in Holyoke we can just hole up there. There isn’t much in the way of furniture, but the heat still works and there is a fireplace, so we won’t freeze.”

Jerry made a face, but said nothing.

“That was slick, how you handled Lou. I mean, having pictures to wave in his face.”

Jerry didn’t reply.

“C’mon, Cowboy! Loosen up a little here. I won’t bite.”

“I’m not so sure. Vic is waiting to be buried and you are jumping the bones of some unsuspecting schmuck and running around digging up money; this is all far removed from my experiences. I will be honest, Mrs. Farino, I think you will bite.”

“Call me Becky, Cowboy. Becky, short for Rebecca. And loosen up. I have nothing in line for you except a little digging in the dirt, and maybe another ride in the sack later on. After that Cowboy, I will be out of your life, out of Springfield,” her voice rose to a shriek, “and out of the freaking family.

“Put the shovels in my car and let’s get up to Holyoke before the weather gets too bad.”

Jerry retrieved the shovels and moved his car so Becky could get hers out of the garage. She drove through Springfield and on to Holyoke. She was a good driver, although she seemed to be more aggressive than Jerry would have thought a woman would be. But, Jerry reflected on that perception and changed his mind. Here was a purposeful woman. Take away her scorn for Vic, and there would still be an assertive woman.

Becky talked and talked and talked the entire drive. She gossiped about all The Boys, all the wives, all the girlfriends. Jerry didn’t ask a question the whole time and only occasionally responded to Becky. In Holyoke Becky navigated to a very old neighborhood about a mile and a half north of South Haddley Falls on the east side of the river and stopped outside the closed gates of a small estate. She handed Jerry a key. “Get the gate, honey.”

Jerry got out and unlocked the gate. As he was swinging it open he felt and heard specks of sleet hitting him. Becky drove through the gates, rolled down her window and told Jerry to close and lock the gate, then drove up the short drive and parked under the canopy at the front of the large stone house.

By the time Jerry walked up the drive Becky had the shovels out of the trunk and was heading around the side of the house. She handed the shovels to Jerry. “You get started. I’m going into the house to start the furnace, just in case this gets worse real fast. There are flag stones leading from the house to a sitting area in the back. Go to the sitting area, come back three stones and start lifting the next five stones. I will be out in a minute.”

Jerry followed instructions. The sleet slowly intensified.

Jerry had two stones overturned and was lifting a third when Becky showed up. “This is pissy weather. Too bad I didn’t get this taken care of a couple of weeks ago. Well, it won’t be like this in Buena Aires.”

Lady, you talk too much. If you are running off with someone else’s money you won’t last a month. “The first two stones turned up very easily. This one is more difficult. I think the first two have been moved recently and this one hasn’t.”

“I am not surprised.” Becky went to the first spot and started excavating. She did not remove a lot of dirt before she uncovered a container. The container looked like a paint can that had been dipped in automobile undercoating. She finally released it from the soil and started walking to the garage.

The garage was also made of stone. Jerry looked at it for a few minutes and surmised it had been a carriage house and stable originally. A small service door allowed Becky to enter without having to fight the large swinging doors.

“That sonofabitch” Jerry could hear the ranting through the stone walls and fifty foot separation.

Becky came out of the garage and threw the can in Jerry’s direction. It didn’t go far and she picked it up again, made a few strides toward Jerry and threw the can at him. The can landed ten feet short. Jerry could see the can was empty. The can was shiny inside. For however long it had been buried, the protective coating held.

She got to Jerry. “Dammit! How did you know? Who told you? Did Vic tell you.” She picked up the can again and threw it at Jerry, this time her aim and distance were sufficient, but Jerry deflected the missile with the shovel handle.

“I told you! I guessed! Nobody has said anything to me. Vic wouldn’t confide in me, he thought I was just a pimple.”

Becky took up a shovel and went to the third stone. Jerry went to fourth. and started loosening it. Becky dug a bit and soon retrieved a second can. She repeated the trip to the garage. No screaming this time.

She returned in a better frame of mind. “Dumb bastard. I knew he was dumber than a box of rocks before I married him. Stupid sonofabitch couldn’t even find buried treasure.

Jerry lifted the fifth rock. Becky retrieved a can from the fourth rock. Once again she returned mumbling to herself. She excavated the last opening. “Come on to the garage.”

They walked in silence to the garage. An open paint can with money neatly stored sat on the otherwise empty work bench. The other two cans appeared to be unmolested. “OK, This will be a bit trickier.” Becky walked to the large doors, looked up to the ceiling separating the garage area from the old hay mow, and started walking to the rear. At a certain spot she stopped and made a line in the dirt with her foot. She went back to the door and repeated the process. The second mark was close to the first. She went to the side wall adjacent the mark, and spotted a beam to follow. She once again kept her focus on the ceiling as she walked to the center of the building. A slight depression in the floor caused her to stumble. Jerry noticed the depression, but said nothing, and neither did Becky. She finally saw something in the ceiling, stopped and made another scuff mark.

The third mark was two to three feet away from the first two marks. Becky shrugged, “Somewhere between these two marks.”
Jerry dutifully started digging. The dirt floor, sheltered from rain and snow for over a hundred years, was bone dry. He tried penetrating the dirt in several places. He located a potential digging field that was softer than other areas, indicating it had been disturbed sometime. He dug a few shovels in one spot and hit something firm. “I hit something here.”

“There should be four containers. Keep poking around.”

Jerry considered where he had already dug and a possible pattern and then started in another spot. A few more shovels and he encountered another container. After a few minutes he had the last two.

Becky worked on uncovering the first container, a five gallon can with removable top. This can was not covered with rust proofing. Jerry and Becky uncovered three more containers. One container was a square box wrapped in cosmoline-soaked fabric. Becky could not lift the box, and Jerry had to do some extra digging to release it from the dirt’s resistance. Jerry found a pry bar among the old tools and levered the box. The box finally came loose and Jerry lifted it out and carried it to the work bench.

The work bench now held containers of various configurations. Becky went to the door and looked out. The sleet stopped and the sky lightened “Good! The weather is improving! Maybe we can clear out of here. In the meantime the house should be getting warm soon. Let’s take all of this to the car. We can open it at my house.”

Becky grabbed the three one-gallon cans and headed for the car. At the car Becky opened the trunk and deposited two unopened containers and headed for the house with the container she opened earlier. Jerry grabbed a five gallon container and a small, square box. Half way across the yard Jerry slipped on the slick grass and fell on his butt. After collecting himself and his load he continued to the car.

Jerry went back to the garage and brought the heaviest package next. He set the package in the trunk and went back for the last package.

The last box was an odd sized metal box. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but needed two hands to carry. Despite his caution, Jerry once again slipped. This time the breath was knocked out of him. He lay on the ground for several seconds, the inability to breathe brought a moment of panic, but in a few seconds everything was functioning normally. Jerry rolled on his side and pushed his knees. He stayed on all fours long enough for the ice underneath his knees to melt and soak through his pant legs before standing. Jerry made it to the car, closed the trunk and then went into the house.

A sharp, acrid odor touched his nose. He called to Becky, who was sitting at a large, well worn table in the middle of what might have been a library or sitting room. “What is that smell?”

Becky seemed to be concentrating on counting her money and did not acknowledge Jerry.

Jerry finally figured out the situation. The odor wasn’t just from the heating system burning off dust and corrosion, the odor included a leak somewhere and there was flue gas in the house. Carbon monoxide! Jerry stepped back out the door. He needed fresh air to think straight. Becky might be alive, and if so immediate action was required. Jerry took a deep breath and strode into the house. Without any accommodation to gentleness Jerry lifted Becky off the chair by her armpits and dragged her out of the house. He felt her pulse. Remembering his first aid training he attempted mouth to mouth resuscitation. After a several tries Jerry decided Becky was alive, but unconscious.

Where to go for help? Jerry looked around. The closest house was separated by woods, maybe a hundred feet or so of trees. He guessed it was occupied. In any event that was the best hope for summoning help. I can’t leave her out here in the cold and wet. Jerry lifted Becky and maneuvered her body until he had her in a fireman’s cross chest carry. Jerry laid her across the back seat of the car and folded her enough to get the door closed. An old horse blanket was hanging in the garage, and that would be better than nothing.

Jerry picked his way through the trees as he carefully made his way to the neighboring house. The lady of the house caught sight of him coming through the woods and was waiting for him behind a closed storm door. “I need to call for help. Carbon monoxide poisoning next door. Call the rescue squad, please.”

The lady did not move right away. Jerry said, “Did you understand me? I have an unconscious lady who has carbon monoxide poisoning.”

“Let her die. All of you gangsters can die!” The lady retreated and closed the inner door in Jerry’s face.

Jerry walked to the road. Looking toward the river he saw some small houses grouped together on the river bank. He slid down the embankment; it was much faster than finding where the lower road met the one he was on. He had to bang on four doors before someone answered. He repeated his plea. A young mother, with a crying baby in her arms said, “Oh dear! I will call right away. Which house?”

“The old stone house behind you. I don’t know the address.”

“I will call right away.”

“Thank you”

Jerry made his way back to the house in time to unlock the gate. The rescue vehicle had lights blinking and siren wailing, but was only traveling about 15 mph on the slick road.

The rescue squad quickly determined Mrs. Farino was still alive and the immediate indication was carbon monoxide poisoning. A squad member started oxygen and did some chest pumps to help clear the lungs. The crew asked no questions, retrieved a stretcher and loaded the body into the rescue vehicle. The supervisor retrieved an air monitor, inserted a glass straw into it, walked to the door to the house, opened the door and set the monitor inside. After 5 minutes the monitor was recovered and the supervisor looked at the sample. “Holy shit! This is off the scale. You are lucky she didn’t die!”

The supervisor instructed one of the crew to don self contained breathing apparatus, turn off the furnace and open a few doors and windows. In a minute the task was done. “This breeze will clear out the house quickly. Do you know if she had a purse with her? It will help with identification.”

“Yes, I think she left it in her car. I can get it.” Jerry walked to the car and returned with the purse. “I would like to get her car keys, otherwise I won’t have a way home.”

The supervisor nodded. “You related?”

“No, she had some work to be done here and asked me to help her. We drove here from her house.”

“OK that won’t be a problem. Lock up the house before you leave.”

The rescue squad left. Jerry couldn’t believe it! The police weren’t called. The rescue member who went in the house apparently observed nothing out of the unusual, such as the strange container and pile of money on a table.

The sun came out. It wouldn’t take long for the streets to be passable. Jerry waited in the car for another 20 minutes and then went into the house. The odor was gone. Jerry collected the money from the table and placed it back in the paint can. He closed the windows and locked the door as he left. At the car he opened the trunk and set the paint can next to the others.

Jerry drove back through Springfield. He stopped at the Sunoco station, “Can you relay a message?” The attendant nodded. Jerry wrote a few words on a generic receipt pad. “Farino in hospital. Going home after getting car, load of cash.” Jerry gave a few more details, but thought the notes would help insure the high points were hit.

At the studio Jerry worked in the darkroom getting an order ready to deliver. The phone interrupted his afternoon around 3:30. “Tiny has your parts and you should see him around 7:15.”

The morning sleet had stopped, but the respite was brief as the clouds decided snow was just as good and snow had been falling all afternoon. Jerry walked the half mile to the Mobil station through the accumulating snow.

There was only one set of tire tracks in the street and it led into the station. Mark’s car was parked on the side in a slot between the building and the adjacent cut in the hill. The car had enough snow on it so it was nearly unidentifiable.

Jerry met Mark in the station and then they went to the car to talk. Jerry went through the events of the day as Mark took notes. “I estimate each paint can holds $100,000. I didn’t really count anything. I just wanted to get away.”

After several minutes and a few questions about Mrs. Farino, Mark was satisfied the day was accounted for. “Anything else?”

“I think there is a body buried in that garage.” Jerry went on to describe the depression he saw in the dirt. “There is a definite shape to the depression, very rectangular.”

Mark made notes, but did not appear interested. Jerry pressed. “That house is a viable property that has been vacant for 20 years. Why is that? Buried money is one thing, but that can be hidden anywhere. I think the house is unsold and unused is because of the body, or bodies. Mrs. Farino plans on moving to Argentina with the money. Vic is out of her life and she is going to disappear.”

“I hear you.”

Jerry was disappointed, but knew better than to press the issue any further.

Jerry trudged back through the snow. As he passed the café he decided to stop for some pie and a cup of coffee. He was the only customer and the waitress and cook were busy cleaning.

“Grill is off, Jerry. The meat balls are still warm and I can do some pasta. That is about it. We are planning on leaving as soon as we are done cleaning. We probably won’t open tomorrow, the forecast is for snow all night and all day tomorrow.”

“Just some lemon meringue pie, if you have it, and coffee.”

The waitress brought what would normally be considered two slices of pie. “It won’t keep, Jerry. You might as well eat it. I have half a chocolate pie. Would you want to take that home? It will just get tossed, otherwise. I’m taking the cake that’s left.”

Jerry smiled and said thanks for the pie, it would not be tossed at his place!

He quickly ate the pie and coffee and then trudged back to the studio. His earlier tracks were nearly obliterated by fresh snowfall. The phone was ringing as he opened the door. He rushed to it in time. It was the overseas operator: Lois was calling from England!

“Hey, Cowboy! I’m coming back home!”

“That’s great for me. It must be a big upset for you. What’s happening, Hon?”

“I will explain when I return. The short version is things aren’t as advertised.”

“The explanation can wait. I know you are doing what is right. When will you be here?”

“ I have a flight to Boston that arrives day after tomorrow. Oh, wait. Today is Wednesday. I leave at noon Thursday and get in Thursday night. Can you meet me at the airport?”

“We are in the middle of a big storm and I can’t drive anywhere at the moment. I have no idea if I can get to Boston Thursday night. I hate to say it, but I recommend you get a hotel in Boston for Thursday night. Make the reservation after you talk to me. I might be able to get out there Friday afternoon or Saturday morning if the storm stops Thursday.”

“Well poo! I really miss you!”

“I am sorry, Hon. I was out earlier and even walking is difficult. The car is dangerous on these roads. Call again right before you get on the plane and I should have a better idea of road conditions.”

“All right. I know you like to play it safe. I will call tomorrow. I love you.”

“I love you, Lois. Call tomorrow.

“Goodnight, Cowboy.”

The foot of snow that fell during the night was exacerbated by winds that started out strong from the south and then shifted even stronger from the northwest. Peaked snow drifts in the street looked like waves on the ocean. No vehicles were moving. Jerry had heard a snow plow during the wee hours of the morning, but the effort had been abandoned and one would have to look closely to find evidence the street had been plowed. The local weather forecast was for continued snow through the day and clearing late in the evening. Travel was discouraged. The Mass. Pike was closed, Bradley Field was closed. AmTrack and Bus travelers were hunkered down in respective terminals.

“In other news, East Longmeadow resident Rebecca Farino remains in a coma today following a carbon monoxide poisoning incident at an unoccupied South Hadley residence yesterday. All area residents are reminded to be alert for carbon monoxide poisoning symptoms. Bad weather increases the dangers in homes that have marginal heating systems. Please remember that heating the house using your gas stove is dangerous. If you suspect carbon monoxide poisoning, leave the building immediately and call for help from a neighbor.”

I wonder how long it will be before that comes around to bite me in the butt.

Lois called to say the plane was boarding in half an hour. She has a reservation in Boston. Jerry relayed the latest weather report. “Call me when you get to your room.”

“It was awful, Jerry! Just plain awful!” Jerry was loading the last pieces of Lois’ luggage in the back of his car. It was the start of a discourse answering a question yet to be asked and the monologue continued for the two hours it took for Jerry to drive Lois to her house. The previous employee had not been in an accident, he left because of ‘irregularities at the school.’ “That is all he would tell me, except to keep my eyes and ears open. Well, I will tell you right now, Jerry, it wasn’t two days before I knew that the school was a sham.”

Lois went on to explain the school was a registered charity and took in large sums from donations around the world. The school only had a dozen students and the conditions were not up to standards. The school was not part of the university, just in a nearby building. Lois was hired for her credentials, good looks and international reputation. When she gave notice she was no longer interested the business manager provided her with first class return air fare and $500 for incidentals. There was no hassle of any sort. “They are pulling in millions and spending thousands. I have a mind to seek out a British Consulate and report the organization.”

At Lois’s house Jerry had to dig out the driveway. Lois trudged through the knee high snow to the house. It took half an hour of steady work before Jerry was able to park the car near the house and unload the luggage. Lois had hot chocolate waiting for him as he walked in with the first load.

The house was still cool and would need another half hour before the furnace caught up with the thermostat setting. The hot chocolate was more than welcome. After finishing it Jerry retrieved the remaining luggage.

Lois had a second cup of hot chocolate waiting. “What has been happening in your life. I spent the whole trip talking about me. Anything exciting happening at the Tree House?”

Jerry scratched his head, “I got blind-ass drunk when you left and almost died, I screwed Mrs. Farino, Benny accused me of being a plant, one of The Boys ended up dead in Mr. Blue Suit’s car parked across the street from the studio, and Mrs. Farino is in Springfield General in a coma from carbon monoxide poisoning and I was with her when it happened. I haven’t been to the Tree House because I really didn’t want to be there without you.”

Jerry braced himself for the reaction, but he did not get the first question he was expecting.

“Why does Benny think you are a plant?”

Jerry explained without going into a lot of detail. “My accurate records convinced him I didn’t supply the print to the FBI.”

Lois nodded. “Jerry, can we go to the Tree House tonight?”

“Sure, Hon. Do I detect a bit of urgency in your voice? Dare I ask if you have something in mind besides drinks and dinner?”

“That rat bastard Benny is behind me getting set up with the British deal. He has some loose connection with The Boys in England. I never could quite put it together why the initial contact was made. There are others who have published more, who speak at conferences all over the world. Benny set this up. I need to repay that little debt.”

“Lois, you need to think this through. The whole organization is going snakey. I have good reason to think it will get worse. I’m trying hard to stay away from these guys and things keep happening at my doorstep. I would hate for anything to happen to you.”

“Jerry, I love you very much. I didn’t realize how much I love you until I was in England. Before I finally admitted to myself I’m in love with you I realized you are a very smart man. You are a very disciplined person, perhaps the most disciplined person I have ever met in my life. You come across as a character out of an old radio program: super Boy Scout, straight arrow, Lone Ranger and Sergeant Preston all rolled into one tousle-headed geek. If this was university you would have a slide rule hanging from your belt and a pocket protector filled with mechanical pencils.

“I know you are real, Jerry. I’m not going to ask you a question you can’t answer and I don’t want you to have to lie or dance around it. I know what is going on, Jerry. You are damn good and I bet someone is peeing in his pants every time you talk to him. I can help. I have been helping. There is work to do. Let’s get back to work, me and you.”

Jerry sat silent, rotating the empty cup. He weighed in his mind all of the previous encounters. It wouldn’t be right or, for that matter, of any benefit to be coy or play dumb. Lois is an intelligent woman, certainly much more intelligent than Jerry, and Jerry would not insult her with game playing. “I love you, Lois. The male instinct in me has only one focus and that is to protect the female in my life. Benny and The Boys can go to hell as far as I’m concerned and they can make the trip on their own. I don’t think they need your help.”

The response was instant and more adamant than Jerry was expecting, “Oh no, Cowboy. They need an express ticket. These rat bastards get away with all of the shit they do because people are intimidated and won’t come forward. You haven’t been intimidated, you have stepped up to the plate. I’m standing next to you, Jerry, why don’t you accept that?”

Jerry was silent again for way longer than a pregnant pause. It crossed his mind he might not know everything about Lois, much the same she did not know everything about him. Was he just being used as a pipeline? Was Lois the key all along? Why does she think Benny set her up? “It is not in my nature to overtly expose you to any danger. I can’t change who I’m in an instant just because you are pleading with me. How can I agree to this? Don’t suggest tolerance. Tolerance is doing something that is against one’s principle for the sake of tranquility. I don’t see tranquility as part of this situation.”

“Are you saying ‘no’?”

“I can’t demand you stay away. If you strike out on your own I don’t know if you would be safer than being by my side. I’m not prepared for this.”

“Do you want to consult with someone?”

“A priest isn’t going to help, I’m protestant. There is no one I can think of who would have the remotest idea of how to advise me, anyway.

“How much thought have you given this? This isn’t just revenge or some other emotion, is it?”

“Jerry, your chauvinism is showing. This is a considered decision. It may be a more considered decision than the one you made, whenever that happened.”

Jerry thought about that for quite some time. Lois left and returned with more hot chocolate. Jerry took the cup with a sad heart. “I am in a moral dilemma.”

“More of a dilemma than having to screw Becky?”

“Yeah. That was just about sex. This is about love.” Jerry wondered how that bit of honesty went over, but Lois made no response. “I have no authority over you, Lois. I can’t tell you what you can or can’t do. I have too much respect for you to dismiss your suggestion. I don’t want to see you hurt. That is all there is to it. My concern is great.”

Lois took Jerry’s face in her hand and turned it so he was directly facing her. “There is a story about a spymaster in England during the war who fell in love with a female operative he was training. At the end of training he had to assign her to a dangerous location. It was war, there was a duty to perform and she was now a valuable resource in which a large investment had been made. He sent her off. This is war, Jerry.”

After a minute Jerry stood. The pit of his stomach was upset. He knew the story she was telling. The female was executed by the Germans. “I will pick you up at 5:30.”

Lois stood came around to Jerry and embraced him without saying anything.

“Holy Mother of Christ, look what popped out of the snow drifts.” Card was genuinely happy and surprised to see Jerry and Lois come in, especially Lois.

Angie squealed and gave Lois a welcoming hug.

“It hasn’t been that long!” Jerry protested “It’s not like we are the prodigal son.”

Angie said, “Don’t get a big head, Jerry, Lois is the one we missed!” Angie laughed at her own joke and Card laughed along.

Card brought over drinks. “What happened in, where was it? What happened in England. I thought you were going to be there for a while.”

Angie gathered in for the explanation.

“The director is a fruit. Need I say more?”

Angie screamed in laughter! “I knew you wouldn’t stay away from Jerry. I could tell by the look on your face every time you walked in the door when you had been doing it. I knew you would be disappointed somewhere else.”

The gaiety subsided and Card repeated how good it was to see them and then went to fix drinks for Angie’s orders and serve the other bar patrons. After Card had all of the customers taken care of he made a phone call.

After he hung up the phone Jerry looked at Lois. She smiled. “Thank you. You don’t have to say anything, and maybe it is better that you don’t. You get three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Jerry just nodded. Oddly enough, he felt strangely relieved, perhaps even comfortable. No, getting comfortable is dangerous. It is better to stay on the anxious side.

A few of The Boys were already at the bar, including Mr. Blue Suit who approached Jerry and Lois a few minutes after the welcome back subsided. “I hear Rebecca is in the hospital.”

Jerry looked at him. “Yes, that was on the news.”

“So, what happened the other day?”

“She is a funny woman, you know, for being recently widowed and all of that. I was just there to drop off pictures. She invites me in and starts running her mouth about all sorts of things. She claims she got syphilis from you.”

Mr. Blue Suit got angry real fast and was about to hit Jerry. “Go ahead, Lou. Word running around is you are on thin ice. What is with the guy dead in your car across from my place? Word is someone in Providence is upset about losing a valued member of the family. I could pass on a few other things I heard the other day, but I won’t. So, you can rough me up, but that won’t get you anything, it will just make the ice thinner. Better get a shot of penicillin, Lou.”

Mr. Blue Suit returned to the other end of the bar. Lois said, “The talk at the other end is that Mr. Blue Suit is at the end of his string. They are taking bets how many days he has left. Everyone is crowding around three days.”

Lois and Jerry moved to the dining room for dinner. After Angie took their order and departed Jerry looked at Lois, “I want to move back to Minnesota. I want to end my involvement around here. I don’t see much future in being the house photographer for The Boys. Will you come to Minnesota with me?”

Lois did not answer for quite some time. “I can’t give up my work. There isn’t a line of people waiting to take over my work.”

“You went to London. Why not Minneapolis? There are deaf children in Minnesota. There are lots of good restaurants and roadhouses.”

Lois laughed. “I anticipated this, Jerry. Actually, I had been hoping you would ask. You are asking me to marry you, aren’t you? Let me see if there is a position for me in Minnesota. I will give you my answer after I find out what the prospects are there.” She leaned across the table and gave him a kiss. “In the meantime, we can enjoy ourselves at my place later on.”

Jerry shook his head, “Not for a few days, Lois.”

Lois looked at him in astonishment.

“I am sorry. I have to wait a few days, get tested and then get a shot if necessary.”

Lois was silent.

“I am sorry. I can’t take a chance. She told me Vic was running around and she did some asking around until she found a guy who was syphilitic. She screwed the guy so she could be infected. Then she said she had sex with Vic a dozen times to be sure he got it, so he would pass it on to all of his girlfriends. What she didn’t tell me was whether or not she was treated after infecting Vic. I can’t take a chance.”

“Wear a rubber. I didn’t fly back to wait. After dinner stop by a drug store on the way to my house and buy some rubbers. Grease it up, Cowboy! ‘No’ isn’t an option.”

Dinner was served and conversation turned to London.

Jerry and Lois were finishing dinner when Benny came in. He spent some time in the office with Card and then with two of The Boys. Jerry and Lois moved back to the bar for after dinner drinks. Jerry ordered a pony of Galeano and Lois ordered Dry Sack sherry. Card was shocked they ordered something different.

The door to the office opened and two men came out. One of them signaled Card and in a minutes Card asked Jerry to see Benny in the office.

Benny offered Jerry a cigar. Jerry looked at the band as he removed it: Bolivar Double Corona. The name meant nothing to Jerry, but he did take the time to sniff the stogie and the offer of Benny’s tip clipper. Jerry fired up the cigar as Benny watched. “That is a fine, fine smoke. Walt Kelly said it best: ‘A woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a smoke.’”

Benny laughed. “You are a smart young man, Jerry. I like having you around.” Benny’s mood changed quickly. “I need to know what is going on with Vic’s wife, Rebecca.”

Jerry thought for a few seconds, went to one of the office chairs and sat. Benny hesitated for several seconds, then drew a chair across from Jerry and also sat. Jerry pulled on the cigar, let the smoke saturate his mouth for several seconds and then exhaled. “I’m in a bind here, Benny. Can we discuss my situation for a moment?”

Benny hesitated for the briefest moment, and Jerry caught it. “Yeah, Jerry. This isn’t an inquisition.”

Jerry took another puff before speaking. “I think I have wandered into the middle of your business, Benny. I wasn’t interested in getting into your business, that is, I never thought about it one way or the other. I wasn’t trying to stay away from your business, understand? I was just kind of bumping along being blissfully ignorant of what was going on.

“I don’t have any idea who the players are or how they fit in the scheme of things, and, by the way, I think there is a scheme to things, but I really don’t want to know.”

Jerry took another puff. “I think you trust me. I think you trust me because I don’t go poking around. I know as a fact that some of the crowd here doesn’t trust me, and I have no doubt they would try to turn your trust in me into doubt. So now I’m skeptical about everything that I see.”

Benny protested, but Jerry wasn’t sure of the sincerity.

“Let me share something I learned from my first boss I had in high school. He was a war vet. He had been through intelligence training. The mantra was to share as little personal information as possible with strangers. At the end of the course each candidate was brought to the head office and told he didn’t make it. Then the officer would ask the candidate what his plans for the future were. If the candidate did not answer, or fabricated something he passed. If he said he was going back to South Dakota, he was indeed washed out.

“Where I’m going to here is that I don’t know if you are testing my confidences.”

Benny said nothing for a minute, but then said, “No. Let me put it this way: If I had doubts you wouldn’t be talking with me or smoking one of these cigars.”

“All right. There is one other thing. What is the chance that I tell you something and that information gets back to, say someone in Rhode Island, and then that person gets really pissed at me?”

Benny laughed. “No worry about that, Jerry. New York can be different. If you got New York worries I will let you know.”

Jerry took a puff of the cigar and started his story. “How much do I have to tell you about Vic fooling around?” Benny indicated he was aware of the situation. Jerry continued, “OK, you tell me this before I go on; Who is Patty? Mrs. Farino said something belonged to Patty.”

Benny nodded, “Patriarca in Providence. But I think you guessed that already. No friction between Patriarca and me.”

“Mrs. Farino had me dig up some containers for her at a vacant house near Holyoke. Some of the containers were empty. Vic found the stash, she claimed, and she also said the money belonged to Patty. She was really upset when she opened up a container and it was empty. I think she was afraid ‘Patty’ would accuse her of stealing it. I know, as fact, Vic stole part of it.”

“How did she get sick?”

“She opened one of the containers and wanted to count how much was in there. She had started the furnace when we first arrived. The weather was bad and she thought we might get stuck there. She went inside to count the money while I continued working outside. When I finished I went in and found her unconscious.”

“What else did you dig up?”

“There were several paint cans. One was empty, one she opened. It had $100 dollar bill packages neatly placed inside. There were three metal boxes, all different sizes. One five-gallon can, like paint or grease would come in.”

“Where is all of this stuff now? Do you have it?”

“I don’t have it. I didn’t want to be there and I didn’t want to get involved with having any of it.”

“So, where is it?”

“That’s the part I’m worried about. She said it belonged to Patty. I don’t know how sore Patty will be if he finds out I gave the containers to you instead of him. If Mrs. Farino comes to and the containers are gone she will come after me, the same as she went after Vic.”

Benny considered Jerry’s tale for several minutes. Jerry calmly smoked his cigar. This is really a good cigar.

“What do you know about Vic?”

“Mrs. Farino arranged for the hit. That is one of the reasons she wanted the money. She said she owed her mechanic ten grand and the buried money wasn’t traceable to her, or anyone else alive.”

Benny said, “What else did she say?”

“I’m getting into gossip territory now, Benny. I’m not trying to promote any of this.”

“Yeah, yeah! I will filter it out. what else?”

“Lou Digilio was leaving her house when I drove up. I don’t know if he spent the night or just made an early call. I asked her why she didn’t have Lou do the digging for her and she said he couldn’t be trusted. While we were driving she said he was going to try to fill Vic’s spot. Then she said he was branching out on his own and skimming some of the action. She claimed he needed some of the old cash to cover what happened in his car. She said if Patty found out, Lou wouldn’t make it across the street.”

“Anything else?”

“She is in a coma. The rest is kind of irrelevant now.”

“So, where is whatever was dug up?”

Jerry just shook his head.

“OK. How about this? I get Patriarca on the phone and he gives the OK?”

“I wouldn’t know Patriarca’s voice from Donald Duck. I know you are going to get pissed, but I’m not going to take the first chance of being the fall guy. I don’t know you guys and I don’t know who is after who. I want to keep it that way. The other thing is, what if someone else has been there already and boosted it? Where does that leave me? Lou was snooping around. I’m not accusing him of anything, I’m just saying I have no control over what has happened since Tuesday.”

“Will you tell Patriarca, face to face?”

“Yes.”

Benny and Jerry sat in silence and worked on their cigars.

“Are you going tell me about her social disease? How did you find out about that, anyway”

“I didn’t consider you would be affected. Like I said, she was running her mouth about a lot of things. I just kind of put it together.”

“Well, you are right. All this shit that is happening around here, most of it goes back to pissed off women running their mouths. I never give my wife a reason to be pissed, never.

“All right, Jerry. Patriarca doesn’t like to travel. He might travel for this.” Benny picked up his storm coat and walked out of the office with Jerry in tow. A cloud of cigar smoke trailed in their wake. He made no comment to the crowd at the bar as he passed.

Lois said, “He only shares his cigars with his closest friends. That is the chat at the other end of the bar.”

Jerry was tempted to salute the other end with the cigar, but thought better of it. Better to just stay low key, if low key was possible anymore.

“The guy second from the right, they call him Horse, he told the others that bugs were found at Club 57 in Agawam. That’s Mr. Blue Suit’s hangout. Horse has known one of the working girls there for years. She said Lou brags a lot about being close to being at the top.”

Jerry smiled, “The only thing they don’t do is eat their young.”

The ringing telephone woke Jerry Sunday morning. It was Lois’ telephone, and she dragged out of bed to cross the room to answer it. “Hello? Yes. Yes he is here. All right just a minute.” Lois set the phone on the dresser and reached across the bed to grab Jerry’s foot. “It’s for you, Cowboy.”

Jerry quickly came to his senses and went to the phone. “This is Jerry. Yes. Noon would be better. I have a 9:00 appointment. Let’s meet in front of Holy Angels Academy in Southbridge. You know it? Oh, I didn’t realize that. No need for me to give directions then. I will see you at noon tomorrow. Yes sir. Good bye.”

“That was Patty. He is coming to meet me. Can I use your car tomorrow?”

Lois strung him out for a few seconds, “You have to return it with a full tank of gas.”

Jerry was parked in front of Holy Angels at 11:30. There were no other cars around and very little traffic on the side street. Around 11:45 a new Cadillac limousine pulled up behind Jerry. The driver came to Jerry’s window, “You Jerry? The boss will see you in his car.” [cap8]

Jerry went to the passenger door and it opened from the inside. Patriarca was sitting in the back seat with an associate next to him. “Come on in Jerry. It is good to see you again.”

Jerry settled on the seat next to Patriarca. “Where to, Jerry?”

“Just a short walk ought to do for the moment.”

Patriarca had a long conversation with Benny Saturday night. Benny convinced him that Jerry wasn’t trying to be a tough guy, Jerry was just very cautious and very professional. And to the surprise of the associate and the chauffer, Patriarca agreed to take a walk. “Frankie, get my overshoes out of the back. No sense ruining these shoes.” Frankie complied and returned with the boots. After the Don had his boots fastened Jerry opened the passenger door and exited, Patriarca close behind. They walked about thirty feet past Jerry’s car.

Jerry said. “We will leave your friends here and take my car to the material. We can chat along the way.”

Patriarca started to protest, but Jerry cut him off. “Benny and I , when we do business it is just Benny and me. Not Benny, a Benny buddy and me, not Jerry, a Jerry associate and Benny: just Benny and me. That has worked well for both me and Benny, I don’t see any reason for it not to work out well for us.”

Patriarca shook his head. Nobody told a capo how business would be conducted. “This better be worthwhile, kid.”

“No, Mr. Patriarca, we might as well have this sorted out right now. The Springfield Boys have been following me for the past three weeks. One of them tried to set me up on an errand I was doing for Benny and it was just dumb luck on my part that they failed. So I don’t know if the stuff is still there or not, and I don’t know what you are expecting to be there. Some of it was already stolen by Vic. We can go to the location trusting each other or we can part company, neither of us ever knowing what happened. I know you are the boss. I just want to get the hell out of the middle of this and be alive tomorrow morning.”

“Did you have anything to do with that picture ending up in the Boston Feds office?”

“Benny and I went over that. Each Photo is individually numbered. Benny knows who I delivered the photos to. Benny can give you the details, or I can explain it on our drive.”

“Yeah, I want to hear about that. That ain’t your regular car, is it?”

“No, I borrowed it. My car isn’t real good on slippery roads.” And it stands out like a sore thumb.

Jerry got into his car. Patriarca went back to his car and told his driver and associate to wait.

Jerry drove on the side street until it teed, turned left and drove again until all he could make was a right and then drove two blocks to Highway 131. Patriarca commented, “You ain’t too shabby, kid. Benny said you have good acumen. So far I have to agree. Tell me about the picture.”

The drive to East Longmeadow took 45 minutes. There weren’t any suspicious cars following. Jerry related the situation with the picture and Patriarca seemed satisfied. Patriarca asked about ‘Rebecca’ and Jerry related all of the information he had.

Jerry must have earned Patriarca’s trust, because Patriarca opened up a bit. “We often figured the old man buried stuff at that place. But, what do you do? Go digging all over the place? Can’t do that. That nosey bitch next door calls the cops whenever anyone starts poking around there. She wouldn’t call the cops on Rebecca, though. She has known Rebecca since she was a little girl and knows that is Rebecca’s property. You say that Vic found some of it?”

Jerry explained. Patriarca nodded. “I don’t know what happened to Vic. Vic used to be steady and reliable. Last couple of years he started screwing up. I don’t know. The hit was fucked up. You know anything about that?”

“Can I pass on that? In any event I wasn’t involved.”

“I know you weren’t involved. But I also know Rebecca couldn’t keep a secret.”

“Quote: I owe my mechanic ten grand. Unquote.”

Patriarca nodded. “I like your style, kid. You are a pain in the ass, but I like your style. I see why Benny noticed you. You really don’t go sticking your nose around, do you?”

Jerry didn’t answer as he drove onto the street where Farino’s house was. He spotted one of Mr. Blue Suits friends parked in a year-old black Chrysler several doors from the Farino residence. Jerry stopped in the middle of the street. “OK, Mr. Patriarca. I think you have been straight with me. I don’t know if you had another car waiting to follow or not back in Southbridge, and I’m relatively confident you don’t have someone parked here keeping an eye on the Farino residence. Nevertheless, one of Lou’s boys is parked, waiting for someone to show up here, and I’m not too happy about that.”

Patriarca just smiled, “Kid, you don’t have to worry about a thing. You may be unhappy, but I’m angry. And, just to keep things straight in your mind. Lou doesn’t have any boys. Lou has no position.”

Jerry said no more. Dumb bastards. Don’t they realize those black sedans stand out just as much as my delivery? God they are stupid.”

Jerry ignored the sedan as they drove past. He parked in front of the Farino residence. The driveway hadn’t been shoveled and the pile made by the plows was waist high and frozen. Jerry and Patriarca scrambled over the pile and waded through the nearly knee-high drifts.

Jerry opened the front door with the key. No one was in the house. The lack of snow removal assured Jerry that there wasn’t any family or house-sitting-friend in attendance. They walked through the house to the door leading to the garage. Jerry turned on the light, walked around to the back of Rebecca’s car and opened the trunk Everything was as he left it. Whew! Thank God Lou didn’t get the idea the stuff is here.

Patriarca asked, “This is everything?”

“This is everything we dug up. One paint can is empty, another has been opened, as you will be able to see, and everything else is the way it came out of the ground.”

“Tell me again the locations.”

Jerry recited the locations. Patriarca pressed. Jerry reiterated, “Stepping stones, and a formulated spot in the carriage house. She was satisfied she had everything. Believe me, if she thought there was more to be had, she would have had me dig.”

“How much did you skim?”

“I knew that would be the question. If I had a brain I would have taken a bundle so I could say I took a grand. But I didn’t take any of it. I didn’t want Misses Farino coming to and finding her stash short from what she counted, although I doubt she will remember if she ever does come to. I don’t know what is in the other containers, I don’t want to know. Misses Farino said this money belonged to Patty, Benny says you are Patty, here is everything I dug up. It is yours and I believe our business is completed.”

“How much did she pay you?”

“She promised me 25% of the total, $15,000 minimum, but she passed out before she got that far.”

“So, you didn’t even take fifteen grand?”

“I want as far away from this as I can get. I didn’t take anything because the situation is already bad because Vic got some of it.”

“All right. I believe you. You could have driven off with the entire thing, or kept a paint can or whatever.

“Here is the truth. I don’t have any idea what is in these containers. I never knew there were any containers until Benny called me. I knew the old man had the reputation for hoarding and there was a rumor he had buried some stuff ‘in Massachusetts,’ but I had no idea where or how much.” Patriarca picked up a paint can, it was empty. He picked up another and saw the lid had not been lifted. He lifted a third and saw the lid had been lifted. He went around the car to the front of the garage and found a screw driver on a work bench. He pried the lid open and saw the packs of hundred dollar bills neatly placed in the can. He went back to the car, got an unopened can and took it to the bench. It appeared to have the same amount of money. He replaced the lids and took everything to the trunk, set the cans down and closed the trunk.

“You are either the dumbest bastard in the world or the smartest. I haven’t decided which. In either case, you know enough to avoid getting in the middle of things. Rebecca was right to trust you. I think if she had taken Lou along the money would be somewhere else right now.

“I will take the car. I’m pissed you made me drive to Southbridge and then came here, I will have to drive back to collect the others. But, I have to say you looked out for yourself real well, and I have a lot of respect for the way you do business. For what it is worth, you don’t ever have to worry about any of this coming back to you.”

Patriarca opened the garage door. Jerry handed him the ring of keys and started heading to his car. Patriarca said, “I need the driveway cleared.”

Jerry stopped and turned, “What’s it worth to you?”

Patriarca said, “The fact that I’m an old man doesn’t sway you a little.”

Jerry shrugged, “The deal was I would show you the stuff. You have seen it. Snow shoveling isn’t part of the bargain.”

“You are an insolent bastard. Ten percent finders fee, $15,000 minimum.”

“And I want $500 of it right now.”

“Jesus Christ!” Patriarca dug in his pocket, retrieved a money clip and casually tossed it at Jerry. “Keep it, clip too.”

Jerry pocketed the clip without counting the money and returned to the garage for a shovel.

It took nearly twenty minutes to clear a minimal path, and Patriarca had to back straight into the street before making any turn. He finally got headed in the right direction. He stopped at the parked car, rolled down his window and had a brief exchange with the other driver. Jerry wished he could read lips, although he did observe Patriarca was doing all the talking and the other driver’s expression looked unhappy.

Jerry closed up the garage and left the house. He drove to Lois’s house. She was waiting as he walked through the door.

“The school director came by today and offered me a substantial raise to come back at least until June. I told him ‘yes’. In the meantime I can send out letters to Minnesota. Would you consider Milwaukee?”

Jerry gave Lois a hug. “Honey, I’m glad you have your old job back. I realize you can’t just pack up. A few months to shop around will give both of us a chance to make a sound decision. In the meantime, let me see what kind of dinner we might have tonight.”

Jerry fished the money clip from his pocket. “Before I came to Springfield I don’t recall ever having a hundred dollar bill. Around here it seems to be the lowest common denomination. Lets see, four, six, seven, nine hundred seventy dollars. The clip is nice, too. Not bad for shoveling one driveway. I want to stop by the studio and put most of this away and then we can have dinner.”

An overstuffed envelope too large to fit in the mail slot was between the storm door and main door of the studio. Jerry felt it. There were six or eight rolls of 35mm film he guessed. “This will keep me busy tomorrow.”

The telephone rang. It was a nurse from the clinic Jerry visited in the morning. “I understand. All right, I will be there first thing tomorrow to get it taken care of. I can be there at nine. All right. See you then. Thank you for calling.”

Lois looked at Jerry, who just looked sheepish. Lois finally said, “Are you going to open the package?”

“No, I will save it for tomorrow. I have had enough aggravation for one day, and I’m sure tomorrow is going to be worse.”

During dinner Card came over, not to enquire about the food or service, but to ask if they were staying for after dinner drinks. Jerry said they were. Card left without further comment and quickly went to the telephone at the bar.

Jerry and Lois were sitting at the bar when Benny came in. “Joe wants to meet with you day after tomorrow. Be here at noon.”

Jerry shrugged, scratched his head and said, “OK,” in an off hand fashion.

Benny looked at the small knot of The Boys at the end of the bar, but said nothing to them and left without any further comment or gesture. [cap9]

The next morning Jerry opened the package of film, nine rolls, and read the instructions. $500 in cash was included. The instructions were simple: process the film, make two 5x7 inch prints of each frame and mail the prints to the address provided. Jerry processed the film and hung it to dry before leaving to go to the clinic.

On return he started methodically making prints. They were all girly pictures. Five different females in a variety of provocative poses. The models, the poses and the photography were all below the standards one would expect to find in Playboy magazine. But, since every pose had an explicit crotch shot, the pictures would find eager buyers in lesser publications, or even just selling the sets of prints.

Jerry was now producing pornography for the mafia. Jerry made one extra print of each model. Late in the afternoon he had all of the prints made and more than half of them run through the dryer. The only saving aspect of the pictures was the density of the negatives was consistent and little time was necessary for adjusting the print quality.

Lois called around five, saying she was tired from working all day, she had a new student that was not cooperative and she was bushed. The best she could offer was a drink before dinner and dinner, if Jerry was interested. Jerry said that if dinner was all they could share that would be fine.

[cap10] Wednesday morning Jerry packaged the prints and addressed a label to a post office box in Boston. Banned in Boston. It figures. As he drove past the Tree house on his way to the Post Office he noticed an inordinately large number of cars in the lot. There were license plates from Connecticut, Rhode Island, and New Hampshire adorning the big sedans. At the Post Office Jerry sweet-talked the supervisor into letting him use the facility telephone. He didn’t have time for a meeting. “Get this to Agent O Dell immediately. There is a major meeting going on in Westfield right now.”

Jerry drove back to the tree house. It was 11:45, but he doubted anyone would complain about him being early. Jerry walked in and took his customary seat. The lounge area was packed and everyone gave Jerry a stare as he took his seat. Jerry obviously didn’t belong there. Jerry was in a McGregor corduroy car coat over a shirt and slacks. Everyone else was in dark suits, dark shirts and ties. Sailors in boot camp wouldn’t be more uniform in appearance. Several of the group were wearing sunglasses, despite the subdued lighting in the lounge. The conversations slowly grew again. It was obvious to Jerry the attendees were waiting for someone else to arrive, mainly Joe Patriarca. Mr. Blue Suit was making light conversation with several visitors. He looked happy. He looked at Jerry and hoisted his glass in salute. Jerry hoisted his back, only without any sincerity. Mr. Blue Suit caught the movement and nodded his head while laughing. Laugh all you want, Lou. I will be the one laughing when the day is through.

Card came by, “You gonna want lunch, Jerry? It may be another half hour or forty-five minutes before everyone is here. You are here by invitation, right?”

Jerry nodded. “Yeah, Benny said I should be here. I will have a meatball grinder with extra cheese and another beer.”

“Sure you don’t want the fish sandwich? The fish is fresh. The Boys from New Hampshire brought it over special for me today.”

“You talked me into it, Card. Fish sandwich it is.” Jerry laid a $10 bill on the counter.

“Put your money back, Jerry. Lunch is on the boss. The Boys are celebrating Mr. Blue Suit’s promotion.”

Jerry couldn’t believe his ears. Patriarca said Lou was in disfavor, but didn’t say why. Now he was being promoted? Jerry was really confused. He was confused why he was asked to be there, too.

As Card left to pass the order to the cook Don Giancani came over. Don was impecably dressed, as he had been for the photo session earlier in the year, and even more impeccably groomed. He put is right arm around Jerry’s shoulder and Jerry caught a whiff of Jerris Talc competing with Bay Rum. There is no way this guy could have been to a barber and still make the drive this morning. “The pictures were great, kid. The oldest daughter wants you to come back and do some special shots for her. She thinks she wants to be a model. When can you come back?”

Jerry turned to be squared with Giancani. “Can I be honest with you, Mr. Giancani? You know, offer some professional opinion?”

Giancani was a bit surprised by Jerry’s answer. “Sure. I didn’t think the question was that serious. Yeah, go ahead.”

“Your daughter is too busty to be a model. There is no denying she is drop dead beautiful, and I wish she were a few years older or I was several years younger. As far as any future as a model it just isn’t there. Twiggy is who the agencies hire. That said, I will be more than happy to work with her on glamour shots and anything she may want or need for publicity as a performer, but I would be stealing your money and misleading her if she posed for a portfolio thinking it was going to further a modeling career.”

Giancani mulled the situation over in his mind. It was good to deal with someone who wasn’t worried about family business. “Can I have her call you? She has been talking about you since the day you were at the house. I think she would listen to what you have to say.”

“She can call whenever she wants. Tell her she may have to try several times. I’m in and out. Late afternoon is the best time to call, but before 6:00.”

“I will tell her. Thanks for advice. I like dealing with you, Jerry. Joe and Benny have good things to say, too.” Giancani patted Jerry on the shoulder as he turned to return to his table.

The fish sandwich was very tasty and Card’s special coleslaw recipe was a good compliment. After Giancani left Jerry’s side the mood of the room seemed to change a little and Jerry caught an occasional look from one of the assembled mobsters.

Jerry was contemplating how coleslaw could have such different flavors about the time Patriarca came through the door along with three other men, two of whom Jerry recognized from the earlier meeting. One was carrying an obviously new leather briefcase. It wasn’t an ultra-thin briefcase that was coming into vogue and carried by top executives, it was a fat piece that opened at the top and had a belt-style clasp holding it shut.

Patriarca saw Jerry first and laid his hand on Jerry’s shoulder, “Thanks for being here Jerry. I have something to take care of and then I will see you in a few minutes.” That encounter got everyone’s attention.

Patriarca was also impeccably turned out. One would have to have very poor eyesight to miss the fact that Patriarca and Giancani were projecting their power. As Patriarca headed for the other side of the bar the gathered associates stood up and shook his hand as he slowly walked past. The Don was holding court and all of the minions were eager to suck up in any way they could.

Benny followed him through the door that led to the cellar. In a few minutes Benny came out and summoned a half dozen men, all obviously in the older segment of the group.

The meeting went on for nearly fifteen minutes. Three of the men came out and left the premises, each taking one or two side kicks with him. Benny appeared and summoned two men Jerry had not seen before.

After a long minute passed Patriarca came through the cellar door. He walked the length of the bar to Jerry. “Thanks for waiting. Let’s get together in Card’s office.” The fact that the Don did not summon Jerry did not go unnoticed.

Jerry and Patriarca walked to the office, gathering the associate with the briefcase along the way. Jerry could feel every eye in the establishment focused on him as he made the short walk to the opposite end of the bar. Eat your heart’s out, you punks. There was no conversation going on in the entire establishment. Inside the office the associate set the briefcase on the desk, and, without comment or direction, left the room, closing the door behind him.

Patriarca handed Jerry a cigar. Jerry thanked him, and as he trimmed it and fired it Joe went to the briefcase and opened it. “There is easy news and not so easy news. Here is the easy news. The briefcase has $30,300 in it. That represents ten per cent of the cash and negotiable securities that was in the trunk of the car. The not so easy part is there are markers for another million bucks, give or take, in the smallest metal box. The part that isn’t so easy is I have no idea if any of these people are still alive, or where to find them.

“What do you want to do?”

Jerry slowly blew out a puff of smoke, not wanting to waste the wonderful experience. “I’ll pass on the markers. Whatever you do with them, I’m not going to worry about the accounting.”

“You are a smart kid, Jerry. The next part gets a little harder. The box wrapped in cosmoline had merchandise in it. It is going to take some time to research where it may have come from and then it may take more time to convert it into cash. I have some friends appraising it, but I don’t have any idea what it is worth or when it will be available. Do you understand?”

“Maybe a little. I don’t want to understand anymore, however.”

“This is like the markers. Do you want to hold out for a cut of the merchandise?”

“How about this? How about I take the briefcase and call it square?”

There was no handshake. Jerry closed the clasp and picked up the briefcase. Patriarca walked out the door with Jerry behind him. Patriarca headed for the cellar. Jerry continued to the exit, briefcase in one hand, cigar in his mouth. A murmur swept the room after he left. Most of the players didn’t know who “Freaky Boy” was, or what the connection was, but they knew the significance of someone having a private conversation with the Don and even more important, leaving the meeting with a cigar. The briefcase was inconsequential. A few of the locals got the full message and whatever it was Mr. Blue Suit had been trying to stir up was immediately discounted. Freaky Boy had a special relationship with Patriarca, better than any of them had. The message was clear, don’t mess with Freaky Boy.

As Jerry got in his car he noticed one of the cars with Connecticut license plates backed into the “loading zone.” It hadn’t been parked there when Jerry arrived.

Jerry went to his bank and rented a safe deposit box. He made a deposit in his checking account for the amount of his commercial business that week. He then drove over to the camera store, paid his bill and bought several boxes of paper and some chemicals.

The camera store owner commented that business must be going well and Jerry said he was indeed keeping very busy. “Some guy came around asking about you a couple of weeks ago. He was wearing a powder blue jacket and a small brimmed hat. He wanted to know if you were really a photographer and if you were any good. I laid it on thick for you Jerry. I told him if you weren’t the best photographer around here you were at least the busiest based on how much stuff I sell you. I asked him if there was anything in particular he needed, and he mumbled something about a wedding.

“Hey, Jerry, I got some new Hasselblad accessories in if you care to take a look.”

Jerry spent nearly an hour at the camera shop before returning home. As he passed the Tree Top he noticed all of the cars were gone except Card’s, Angie’s, the cook’s, and Lou’s brand new Chrysler.

CHAPTER 16

Lois called late in the afternoon and begged off getting together that evening. Jerry had enough of the Tree House for one day and spent the evening tidying the darkroom and taking care of laundry. The late news brought the report of “…the death of Mrs. Rebecca Farino, widow of the late Vic Farino whose body was found inside the trunk of his car earlier in the month. Mrs. Farino died of complications from carbon monoxide poisoning. She is survived by two daughters, her mother and a sister.[cap11] ”

Friday morning the postman delivered another package of film for processing. There were fourteen rolls of film. Jerry processed them and left them to dry. He would print them Saturday, Sunday or wait until Monday, depending on Lois’s desires.

Lois called late in the afternoon, “What’s on the schedule for tonight?”

“Road trip. Throw a weekend bag together. We are going to Boston for the weekend. Pack something special, or you can go shopping tomorrow. On second thought, plan on shopping tomorrow.”

“I can’t wait to hear about this turn of events. I can be ready to go about 5:30.”

“That will work out fine. I know a great restaurant off Route 20 in Weston. I will call for a reservation.”

“So what’s with the celebration that Springfield isn’t good enough already? Not even Hartford?”

Jerry was driving Lois’s car and they were comfortably cruising on the Mass Pike. “I had enough of the Tree House for one day.” Jerry continued with a recount of the days activities, although he didn’t mention specifically how much money Giancani gave him. “I think our acquaintance Mr. Blue Suit got rubbed out today. There is no need to be near the premises for a few days, plus it is high time you were treated to some largess.”

“Jerry, you know you don’t have to do that. I don’t need fancy things. Being with you is all that is important to me.”

“I know, Hon. I paid off the camera shop today. I got a big order in the mail when I returned to the studio after lunch. I have a few bucks left and I want to treat my princess like a queen. There is no sense going out on the town halfway. You are going to absolutely love this restaurant. It’s very romantic.”

Lois didn’t argue, she laid her head against Jerry’s shoulder and gave him a squeeze on his arm, the best she could do to affect a hug. After several minutes of silence she sat and said, “I heard on the radio Mrs. Farino died. I wonder what will happen to the girls?”

“I don’t know for sure, but from what I saw of their Grandmother they should be well cared for. Plus, there is all that commercial property Mrs. Farino owned. I have no doubt there is a lawyer getting everything sorted out even as we are driving.”

Jerry pulled into the valet parking area. Attendants opened both doors and Jerry and Lois got out into the crisp late fall air. Wood smoke drifted through the area from nearby homes. The clear night was light enough to illuminate the nearby woods a little. “Just like a Currier and Ives scene.” Lois said with a big smile.

Inside a coat check girl helped Lois with her coat and took Jerry’s.

At the hostess station Jerry gave his name and had a $20 bill not so subtly poking from his hand. The hostess looked at the book. “Mt Hartwick. Yes, I see. I’m afraid there will be a half hour wait, would you like to wait in the lounge?”

“Our friend, George D’Agostino, said reservations were usually prompt.”

The hostess looked at Jerry with suspicion. Whatever stereotype image she had of how Italian people looked, Jerry didn’t come close. She hesitated for a minute, looked at her book again and declared in a mock surprise, “I do have something available now. Please come this way.”

The trio paraded past waiting customers. One gentleman scrunched his mouth in displeasure. At the table Jerry passed a $10 bill to the hostess. She thanked him, and clearly understood the message; don’t play games with Mr. Hartwick.

Jerry scanned the room and saw a table with four couples who he pegged as some of The Boys. One of them he thought he recognized from earlier in the day. He leaned into Lois, “You need to go to the girls’ room. When you come back we will change seats.”

Lois smiled, leaned over and gave him a departing peck on the lips. Jerry stood and assisted Lois with her chair. She departed and he sat in her place.

When Lois returned she looked around the room. She stuck her tongue out at Jerry. “Can’t we get away from these guys at all? Or did you pick this spot on purpose? And what was with the tough guy act at the hostess station?”

“I didn’t know these guys would be here. The tough guy act was just a bluff. I don’t know if D’Agostino has any sway this far out, but seeing the crowd behind me indicates he has some presence. The fat guy on your right side was at the meeting today with Vince Darecelli.”

The waitress arrived for drink orders.

Lois said after the waitress departed. “There is just small talk. No business. They are discussing the Bruins. One of the women is asking about plans for a big party between Christmas and New Year.”

Drinks were served and the dinner order taken. Lois and Jerry focused on each other during the meal.

During after dinner drinks Lois said, “They are talking about you.” Lois stared at the man facing her for several seconds, leaving no doubt in his mind she had noticed them looking their way. She made no attempt to hide shielding her mouth as she continued to look at the other table, “The fat guy is trying to confirm in his mind he saw you earlier in the day. ‘Oh yeah. It’s the hair. There ain’t no mistaking that hair.’ He is speculating you are a contractor for Patriarca. ‘I wouldn’t mess with him, one way or the other.’”

Lois looked at Jerry, “You have these guys completely confused! Honey, that is great!”

Jerry leaned toward Lois and gave her a kiss.

The waitress appeared in a few minutes with another round of drinks. “Complements of the fat guy at the table behind you.”

Jerry turned to look, even though he knew who she was referring to. The fat guy caught Jerry’s eye and lifted his glass in toast. Jerry nodded and lifted his in return with a knowing smile. He did not go over to the table or any other motion, he just returned to Lois’s attention.

“I am about ready to split a gut, Jer. I find this hilarious. I know this is serious and dangerous associations, but this situation is very humorous to me.”

“I know what you mean. These guys aren’t very smart sometimes. But I can’t forget they are dangerous all of the time.”

Lois nodded, then softly blurted, “Moe, Larry, Curly Joe and Shep!” She started laughing and fought hard to control herself. She lost control for a second and then, having the presence to cover the fact The Boys might think she was laughing at them, blurted out, “They taste like peppermint!” and continued to laugh, as if she had just heard the funniest joke in her life.

Neighboring couples heard what was obviously a punch line to a joke and smiled approvingly along with Lois’ laughter.

It took over a minute for Lois to calm down. Tears were rolling down her cheek and her mascara was streaking. Jerry offered his handkerchief and she dabbed at her eyes while gaining a little composure. She finally calmed down to the point she could talk. She started to stand. “I gotta fix my face. I really needed a good laugh!” She started giggling again as Jerry came around to hold her chair.

Lois was gone for several minutes before returning, under control and makeup repaired. Jerry had the check for the meal. He mouthed thanks to The Boys and they headed for the cashier.

They woke a little after nine Saturday morning in a small suite in the Boston Hilton. “Would you like room service or breakfast in the dinning room?”

“Room service would be delightful.” Lois said. “Patriarca must have given you a load.”

“You have been teasing me about being frugal for a year, I’m just demonstrating how wrong you have been.”

Lois rolled over on Jerry. “Just this weekend, OK? One weekend is OK, but then we go back to Westfield and the grocery store cum studio life, OK?”

“Aw shucks, missy. You don’t have to go all serious on me.”

Lois grabbed a pillow and swatted Jerry in the head with it. “You are impossible!”

Jerry ordered breakfast and they showered while waiting for the order to arrive. They were in hotel bathrobes and Lois had her hair in a towel turban when the food was delivered.

Lois spent nearly $500 on a dress and accessories. She had her hair done in the afternoon. She made no more protests. The concierge was able to deliver dress circle seats for the Boston Pops concert. Jerry was under dressed in his suit, but didn’t really care. Lois looked fantastic.

Sunday morning they lounged with breakfast before checking out. They spent the day at a few historical sites before returning to Springfield.

Monday morning Lois woke Jerry. “Thank you for the wonderful weekend. I really enjoyed the entire weekend. And you were right, as usual. It was great to blow a wad on a luxury weekend. We need to get you a tux if we do this again.” She gave Jerry a passionate kiss.

“I am thinking about maybe New York in a few weeks. I will see who is in town. I would love to see Erroll Garner.”

“Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

“That is entirely up to you.”

Lois kissed him without replying and left.

Jerry met Mark at the Strathmore. The sky was low and overcast with scud brushing the nearby hills. A few snowflakes drifted in the variable currents, as if testing conditions for others gathering in the clouds. Mark had the heater in his car at a comfortable temperature as Jerry slid onto the vinyl covered seat.

Jerry recounted the events of the week. “I couldn’t get too many of the license plates and only a partial on the car that was in the loading area. Lou’s car was there by itself later in the day and it wasn’t there this morning.”

Mark wrote the license numbers and car makes as Jerry recited them. Jerry asked, “Are you interested in the porn operation at all? I have another shipment to print later on today. Sorry I don’t have anything for you today.”

“We hand it off to the postal inspectors. If you get a lead on where it is coming from that will be helpful.”

Jerry replied, “There should be fingerprints on the film cans, at least partials.”

Mark quickly responded, “What about your prints? Don’t you mess up the prints on the can when you open the film cans?”

“I wear light cotton gloves while handling the film. I can just as easily wear the gloves while opening the cans. I doubt the lids will be of any use, but there might be something on the cans and on the actual film cartridge.”

Mark thought for several seconds. “There may be something there. Next batch include whatever you think might be useful with the prints.”

“I can easily do that. I will place the metal parts in separate little bags.”

The meeting was over and Jerry left the parking lot. Even though he was certain Lou was dead and no one else would be interested in his activities he carefully checked the road for any waiting vehicles.

Jerry spent the remainder of the day working up the porn pictures. This group had another batch of girly shots and four rolls of more hard core activities. He kept out samples of each roll. The postman delivered an additional package. “You starting to do mail order work, Jerry?”

The Tree Top parking lot was empty of any customer cars when Jerry pulled in at 5:45. Usually there were a few other locals there, having a bump and a beer on their way home from work. Card had a broad smile as he brought Jerry his beer and a glass. “I didn’t see you leave Friday. That was quite a gathering. The Boys laid enough cash on Angie that she might not come in for the rest of the year.”

“I am glad Angie made out well. I imagine you did all right, too.”

“Oh yeah. The place was nearly full and that is unusual for lunch time. It was kind of slow Friday night, just about all The Boys stayed away. Where have you been all weekend?”

Oh, you know. Lois and I need to mix up our social life a little from time to time.”

Lois showed up a few minutes later. “I was worried you were closed when I didn’t see any cars in the lot, Card. Are we the only customers?”

“Just for the moment. Although the weather is kind of iffy, and what with it being Monday night I’m not expecting a crowd.”

Angie showed up from the kitchen. “If it ain’t the Bobsey Twins. Where were you this weekend?” Angie sidled up to Lois, “Word is Patriarca laid a big wad the Cowboy, here. You help him spend it over the weekend?”

Lois looked at Angie and replied, “He didn’t need Patriarca’s help. He had a big ‘wad’ before last Friday.”

Angie screamed in laughter. Lois stood from her bar chair and latched on to Jerry. Looking at Angie, Lois continued, “The ‘wad’ and I are dining in tonight. Would you care to show us our table?”

Angie broke up again and was still smiling as she handed out menus at their dining table.

During dinner a few couples came in to eat and several more sat in the lounge area. Around seven some of The Boys started arriving. Notably missing was Mr. Blue Suit. Lois mentioned his absence, but Jerry waved her off, saying he might be at his other haunt. Lois suggested returning to the bar to pick up conversations.

After a few minutes at the bar Lois said, “Nobody has seen Lou since last Friday. There is some speculation what went on between you and Patriarca. One of them said, ‘well if he is here and Lou is gone, I ain’t fucking with him, no way.’ Another one said Lou told him he was taking over Vic’s place. ‘What was the big meeting for if not for elevating Lou?’ Another guy is a real piece of work, he says he thinks Lou is out of the picture and he is going after Lou’s girlfriend. The big guy on the left says he would have better luck with Vic’s wife.”

Laughter erupted from the other end of the bar following the last comment.

Lois grabbed Jerry’s hand and squeezed. The laughter stopped abruptly. “The guy in the middle has been quiet all this time. Now he said, ‘You guys need to pay closer attention. Lou ain’t coming’ back. Not ever. Ain’t no one going to find him, either. Lou fucked up, big time. He wasted Bud Giacomo. Bud was a made man and Lou wasn’t. Bud was trying to give Lou some advice and Lou shot him. Joe was very unhappy about that and Benny had to respond. That is what happened. Lou is bear food in the Berkshires. That old logging camp near Charlemont.’ That has stopped the chatter.”

Benny arrived and joined the group at the end. Card served drinks and blocked the initial conversation. Lois said, “Benny wants all of The Boys here on Wednesday afternoon. There are slots that need filling. With Frankie in Jail he needs a new truck driver.”

The conversation turned to chatter and stayed on sports and women and other subjects for quite some time. Lois kept her concentration on the other end, looking for breaks in the patterns. She and Jerry discussed the upcoming trip to New York City, more as a mask than hard planning. Lois squeezed Jerry’s hand, hard. “Benny just replied to the big guy. He said Lou had conflicting loyalties and wouldn’t be around anymore. I’m missing the question, something about Lou. Benny says no. Lou didn’t have the stones. Lou did set it up. Out of town talent. Now he is taking two of them into Card’s office.”

On Wednesday the noon TV news had Jerry’s attention. “An employee of Club 57 in Agawam reported discovering a body in the parking lot when reporting for work this morning. Police identified the victim as John DeLaFanci of Brooklyn, New York. Police stated Mr. DeLaFanci is suspected of having organized crime connections. No further details have been released. This is the third violent crime tied to Club 57 in the past four years, including the shooting of an area plumbing contractor in 1965.”

Increasing snow encouraged Jerry and Lois to cancel their evening plans. Around 6:00 Jerry received a call to meet with Mark at the Mobil station. Jerry packaged the porn material and walked through the accumulating snow at 8:30.

Mark took the package without comment. Jerry recounted the conversations from Monday night. He speculated The Boys were responsible for the late Mr. DeLaFanci’s demise.

Mark took careful notes. When Jerry finished he said, “You and Lois need to find another watering hole for a few days, or at least until I advise you different.”

Jerry didn’t ask why.

For the next two weeks Jerry stayed busy with the porn processing and some commercial studio work. Lois and Jerry found a nice club on the north shore of Lake Congamond. The weeknight clientele was a mix of upscale diners and not so upscale sailors populating the bar. “There is a Navy school near here they attend. They have rooms in the area,” Lois reported one evening. On Friday and Saturday nights the young crowd was expanded with college kids and a local rock and roll band. It was relaxing to not think about The Boys. Jerry couldn’t help passing on some gossip to a sailor one night as they were occupying the two urinals in the men’s room, “That girl your buddy has been dancing with in the blue dress?”

“Yeah, she is hot.”

“Her not-so-hot friend in the green outfit, the one with the four – oh body and three-oh face?”

“Yeah, what about her.”

“Her father is wealthy beyond your wildest dreams. Her mother makes her dress down. Trust me. I’m a photographer. Her facial structure is great. A little different hair do, some make up and lose the glasses and she will knock your socks off.”

“You think she’ll dance with a sailor? All the college guys have a big advantage, it seems.”

“But they’re idiots. You don’t see them crowding around her, do you? Give it a shot. All she can say is ‘no.’”

The morning of December 21, 1968, between 2:00 and 6:00 the Tree House burned to the ground. Firemen arrived to find the building totally involved and burning violently. The roof collapsed into the interior minutes after the first unit arrived. The fire was never brought under control to the point any of the building would be saved.

There were no porn packages that week. Jerry chalked it up to the holiday season.

Monday morning, December 23, 1968, Jerry met with Mark. “We found Lou’s body, or what was left of it. You probably saved a couple of young girls’ lives. The porn shots were reviewed by several teams, including missing persons. Two of the girls are under age and have been missing for several months. Your keeping the film cans broke the case. The prints weren’t enough to use as evidence in court, but were sufficient to get us on the track and develop evidence in different manners so we could build a case. Good call on that Jerry. There isn’t much more that I can pass on to you. We have a lot of irons in the fire. If they had names on them the names would be yours. I can’t tell you how important your information has been. If you see headlines, save them for your grandkids. They will truly have a grandfather to be proud of.

“You should go back to Minnesota, Jerry. I know that is what you want and I strongly recommend you choose that course of action. Not necessarily tomorrow, but before the snow melts. Don’t use your name on your business back there, no sense making it too easy if somebody gets a buzz.”

Lois’ counterparts in Minnesota were emphasizing American Sign Language. She could not find a position in the region.

In the teeth of Minnesota’s absolute coldest part of the year, Jerry drove home alone. After a two day trip he arrived late in the afternoon. It was two degrees above zero, the snow squeaked under the tires as he rolled to a stop next to the curb on the side of the corner lot house. Mom had hamburger and macaroni hot dish cooking in the oven.