“Fruits and vegetables. That’s what it says, Kelly. Fruits and vegetables. Like it’s one category.”
I was sitting at the bottom of the fire escape, watching Johnny Apple peel his namesake with a knife and expand on the reason why.
“Doctor tells me more vegetables. I say, ‘What does that mean?’ He shows me the pyramid. With the categories.”
“Fruits and vegetables?”
“That’s right. I figure one covers for the other. Now, I love apples.” Johnny took a bite and held up the aforementioned fruit. “Good for six or seven a day. Cunt of a wife tells me I’m a dumb fuck. Like I need her to tell me that? Says they need to be green and leafy. Green and leafy? What the fuck is that?”
“Vegetables?”
“Exactly what she told me.”
“It’s not fruits or vegetables, Johnny. So maybe you can’t substitute one for the other.”
“You don’t like the categories?”
I shrugged. Johnny finished his apple. I finished my smoke. Then Vinny DeLuca’s hitter took a look up the stairs.
“He up there?”
“Yeah.”
“Wrapped.”
“Bubble wrap.”
Johnny chuckled. “Bubble wrap. Federal Fucking Expresso. Bet it does a nice job.”
“Where are you going to take him?”
“Better if you don’t know. Don’t worry. He won’t never be heard from.”
I stood up. Johnny put out a hand. It was full of knuckles and rings. “You don’t have to go up.”
“I got a few things I need to grab.”
Johnny shrugged. “You all right?”
“Sure.”
“Don’t look it.”
“Let’s get him out. I’ll feel a lot better.”
We went upstairs. Johnny Apple commented on the fine packing job. Then he threw the bundle over his shoulder, took it downstairs, and dumped it in his trunk. He slammed the lid and offered his hand on a job well done.
“Got something else for you, Johnny.”
The hitter’s face went blank. His hand dropped to his side. In Johnny’s line of work, no one likes surprises.
“It’s in the basement,” I said, and pointed the way. Johnny took out his gun and insisted I go first. The door to the cellar was unlocked. I pushed it open. The black duffel bag with gold trim was right where I’d left it. Johnny Apple tucked his gun into his belt and zipped the bag open.
“It’s the dope Gilmore lifted from the Korean. I counted twenty-six kilos. The Fours already took delivery on number twenty-seven. Pretty much makes your boss whole.”
Johnny zipped up the bag and carried it out to the car, where he locked it in the trunk beside Gilmore. Then he climbed behind the wheel.
“You hear me, Johnny?”
“I heard you. Not sure if my boss is gonna hear you. You understand what I’m saying?”
“I do. And I think I can live with it.”
“We’ll see. Be good, Kelly.”
“Bye, Johnny.”
Johnny Apple drove off the lot and disappeared around a corner. The rain had stopped, and the sky had cleared. I sat on the black iron stairs and had another smoke. Watched the muddy parking lot dry in the early afternoon sun. After a while I went up the stairs and walked through Gilmore’s computer a second time. Then a third. When I had what I needed, I slipped out the back door, found my own car, and left.