CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

 

 

Sal handed the journal to Tommy. He flipped it over, looked at the back, then sat down. He turned each page carefully and studied the entries. Once he was done, he leaned back in his chair.

The room was quiet for several minutes. "That's all, fellas." He gave a look to Sal, and Sal knew he would be staying behind. The other three filed out. Sal said, "Tell 'em I got the first round." The three guys nodded before heading down to the bar.

Sal waited for Tommy to share what was on his mind. There was always something. Usually it was off the mark, and sometimes it was just paranoid and crazy. He would let him talk, though, and nod. Sal closed the door.

Tommy, "You take a look at this?"

"No."

Tommy stood up and handed it to Sal. He got a drink while Sal sat down and read through the first few pages. Tommy poured himself a bourbon, "You want one?"

"Sure," though he didn't.

Tommy poured another and handed it to Sal, "What do you think?"

Sal didn't know why, but it seemed off somehow. He wasn't ready to tell Tommy that, though. "I think the accountant was stupid for crossing you."

"Any problems with the DA tonight?"

"He was a few minutes late, but it was fine. Nobody was around. He gave it to me, then we roughed him up, just like you said."

"How'd he take it?"

"Didn't say a word."

"So McKinley can take a punch, eh?" Tommy laughed a little.

"He took 'em pretty good, but he knew they were coming. I don't think he could throw a punch, though. He'd probably be crap at collections."

This made Tommy roar. "I could just see that little mic bastard trying to make the rounds. They'd chew him up and spit him out."

Tommy continued, "Why you think the accountant wrote the whole damn thing in code. You think he knew we would eventually find out?"

Sal just shrugged as he handed it back to Tommy. "You want me to put the word out that we got it back?"

"Yeah, let 'em know. We can get back to business." He started to flip through it again, sipping his bourbon as he turned the pages. "You think this is the original?"

"What do you mean?" Sal asked, mostly because he knew Tommy liked to talk. Sal had been thinking the same thing - something seemed off - but he didn't want to put that idea in Tommy's head. If it got there on its own, fine, but he wasn't going to add to his paranoia.

"It is too clean," Tommy said. He turned on his desk lamp to take a closer look. "You think the DA might be holding out on us?"

"How so?" Sal liked to let Tommy fill in the blanks. It avoided confusion.

"Maybe he's thinking he might like to be mayor or renegotiate terms."

"I don't think he has the balls to cross you, boss. You scare the shit out of him."

Tommy smiled, not looking up from the journal.

"But maybe he kept the original it for insurance?" Sal suggested.

"You think we should have a little chat with Mr. McKinley?" Tommy asked. They both knew it wasn't a question.

"Sure, I can go talk to him. He ain't gonna try anything right away, though. If he was, he wouldn't have taken the beating. If you want to know what I think..." Sal paused for Tommy's reaction.

Tommy just looked up, listening. He respected Sal. He didn't talk much, but, when he did, it was usually worth hearing him out. Tommy didn't listen to anyone else.

"I say we give it a few days. Let the word get out that this mess is behind us, then arrange one of your dinners."

Tommy closed the journal and stood up to lock it in the safe. He wasn't going to destroy it yet. "I like that. He'll be expecting something anyway. We feed him, give him some booze, and, when his guard is down, start asking questions."

Sal knew the meeting was over and went down to the bar. He gave the order to a couple of guys to spread the word, then he got a Coke from the bartender and read the rest of the day's paper. It was back to business as usual just the way Sal liked it.