Dead Street

How twenty years ago a mob guy named Benny Orbach buttonholed him about Big Zappo’s safe. A big heist was going down, involving atomic materials, and the right kind of storage was needed for the dangerous stuff. That old lead safe of Padrone’s would do the trick, till the haul was shifted to a buyer. And there were lots of prospective buyers on the scene, even back then — from the North Vietnamese to various Middle Eastern groups.

“How did you happen to have access to Big Zappo’s safe, Bucky?”

“I found it — I heard the stories about Zappo’s money stash being somewhere in that cellar, and I looked till I found it.”

“How much loot did you find?”

“Not that much — maybe ten K in those big old bills. If I’d known they was collector’s items, I wouldn’t have been so free with ‘em.”

“Why did you have access, Bucky? Why do you have part ownership of that building?”

“Because... because I’m Big Zappo’s kid, all right?”

“What?”

“Bastard kid, okay, Shooter? He was old enough to be my granddad when one of his whores had me, get it? But blood is blood, and he willed that building to me. He set it up that half of the income went to that charity — my old man had a thing about helping out these homeless characters.”

“They say he started those soup kitchens back in the Depression.”

Bucky nodded. “And, tell you the truth, Big Zap thought I’d just sell the place and blow the dough, if there wasn’t some, you know... constraint put on me. I was a wild-ass kid, in those days — you remember. Hell, my share was tied up in a trust fund deal till I turned forty!”

He was at least fifty now.

I asked, “Why didn’t you sell out then?”

“Because I wasn’t a snotnose no more. You might not buy it, Shooter, but I’ve led a respectable damn life, for years. Even twenty years ago, I’d already broke off from that whole street gang scene — I took a technical course. Got in the ground floor of computer repair.”

“Which is how you got the Credentials gig.”

Again he nodded. “Yeah. And when Benny Orbach came around there, he recognized me. He knew me as this kid who used to be a runner for Big Zappo, and remembered the safe in the cellar.”

Orbach must have been the other guy in Bettie’s office photo, the big guy with his back to the camera.

“What was Orbach doing at Credentials?”

“This atomic heist, it was already in the works. Orbach knew his ass was on the line, getting involved with something that big — I mean, it’s the kind of crime you do federal time on. There are people who consider that kind of heist, you know... unpatriotic or some shit.”

“The word is treason, Bucky.”

Despite all the junk he was on, Bucky had a hysterical edge in his squeaky voice. “Listen, I didn’t even know what was gettin’ heisted. I only figured it out later, when it got in the papers. All I knew was, Orbach needed a lead-lined vault for something hot.”

Something really hot.

“But you knew Orbach was laying his ass on the line,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, but not why. Later, I put that together.”

I leaned in closer. “The girl, Bucky — the girl Bettie Marlow. Why her? Why was she abducted?”

He smiled but it looked sick. “I don’t know, Shooter. Honest, man, that was nothing I was part of. But I can guess....”

“Guess then.”

“See, it’s what you asked before — Orbach, he put together a big file on everything he knew about the East Coast mobsters. Real insider stuff. Names, dates, you name it.”

“Why?”

“Orbach thought with a high-risk caper like this, he should take out an insurance policy. If he got caught, if he took this rap, he wanted to know he’d be safe in stir. That nobody would slip a shiv between his ribs, in the lunch line, to make sure the feds didn’t get the real skinny on who was behind the atomic heist.”

“And the young woman who worked at Credentials?”

He paused, his eyes jumpy.

Then he blurted, “Why don’t you just say it, Shooter?”

“Say what, Bucky?”

“That she was your girl! You were going to marry her, right? Don’t pretend she isn’t what this is all about.”

I felt the muscles along my spine twitch.

“You knew, Bucky?” I said, keeping my tone steady. “Back then, you knew about Bettie and me?”

This nod was hesitant, then followed by two quicker assertive ones. “And when I saw Orbach at Credentials, and figured out that the Shooter’s girl had been the one who’d entered the mob data he’d entrusted to them? Well, then I knew Orbach was screwed.”

My hand clenched the edge of his pillow. “And you told him?”

“No! I swear I didn’t.”

It was hard work keeping my voice steady, but I managed. “Why not, Bucky? Why didn’t you tell Orbach?”

“Because... because I told the guys I was working for instead.”

I swallowed hard, but I kept my expression calm. “Mob guys, you mean.”