Dead Harvest

  The lieutenant rubbed absently at the back of his neck, a pained look playing across his face. "I don't have a fucking clue. And I hope to God this shakes out your way, Mike, but until I get some answers, I'm afraid you ain't going anywhere."

The thing about a deal with the devil is you don't always know you've made one till it's too late. I'd like to think I didn't. Then again, looking back, I'm not sure knowingwould've changed a thing.

  I found Johnnie Morhaim on the corner of Franklin Avenue and Van Buren Street, shooting craps out on the sidewalk with a pack of drunks and kids. Every town's got a guy like Johnnie Morhaim: quick to smile with a temper to match, Johnnie had a hand in every bum racket and crooked deal from Edgewater to Rockaway Beach. I'd met him a few months before, when Elizabeth and I had just moved to New Brighton; he'd been putting a crew together for some job or another, and he'd heard I needed work. It didn't take me too much poking around to find I didn't want the kind of work he was offering, but he never seemed to get the message – every week or so he'd happen by and ask me how the hunt was going. Maybe I should've caught the twinkle in his eye, the swagger in his step when he stopped by. Maybe I should've realized the guy had juice, and if he wanted to keep me desperate, all he had to do was put out the word and not a soul in town would hire me. Maybe I should've seen the setup for what it was, but I swear to God I didn't. Nope, instead I cursed my lousy luck and hobbled my way right back to Johnnie, just like he knew I would.

  Johnnie scooped the dice up off the sidewalk amidst a chorus of shouts and jeers, pausing just long enough to take a swig from the bottle of rye that sat brown-bagged between his knees. If anybody else saw him swap the dice for a pair within the bag, they sure as hell didn't let on.

  "Johnnie," I called, "you got a minute?"

  He never even looked at me. "Can it wait?"

  "Not long."

  He tossed the dice across the sun-bleached sidewalk. The crowd erupted. "Elevens again, boys! Guess today's my lucky day!" Johnnie snatched up the loaded dice and pocketed them in one swift motion. Another pull off the bottle and the straight dice came back out to play. He handed them to a kid on his right and rose stiffly to his feet. "Your roll, sport – me and Sammy got some business to discuss. And don't think I won't be back for my money, hear?"