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“I ain’t seen him, I swear to God, in a month.”
“Where does he usually hang out?”
“Meagan’s Bar.”
“He’s in the deep shit now, Sonny.”
“You think he hit the narc?”
“You tell me, Sonny.”
“I ain’t heard nothing, Charley, I swear to God.”
“Payne wants to lock you up, Sonny. You’re going to have to do better than that.”
“Christ, I don’t know any more than I told you. And that’s enough to get me killed. Those Dagos don’t fuck around.”
“You’re going to have to do better than that,” Charley repeated.
“I can ask around,” Sonny said. “I hear things sometimes.”
“I’ll bet you do,” Charley said.
“I swear to God, if I hear anything, I’ll call you.”
“I believe you, Sonny,” Charley said. “But I don’t know about Payne. He wants this guy. He’ll do anything to get him.”
“You lock me up, all you get is what I already told you,” Sonny argued. “Let me ask around, Charley. It makes sense.”
Charley considered that for a moment.
“I’ll try, Sonny,” he said. “I don’t know…”
“Talk to him, Charley. I’ll make it worth your while.”
Charley shrugged and walked over to the booth where Matt was now counting thick, rubber-band-bound stacks of one-dollar bills.
Matt got up and walked with Charley to a corner of the room. Charley began to talk to him. Sonny did not think Payne looked at all happy with what Charley was saying.
But finally, after flashing Sonny Boyle a look of utter contempt, he shrugged and walked out of the restaurant. Charley went back to Boyle’s booth.
“That took some doing,” he said. “My ass is now on the line. Don’t fuck with me about this, Sonny. If that mean sonofabitch comes down on me, I’ll really come down on
you. You understand?”
“Charley, I understand. The first thing I hear—”
“And you better hear something, and soon,” Charley interrupted. He laid a calling card on the table, took out a pen, and wrote another number on it. “My home phone is on there. The one I wrote is Special Operations. Call me there, not at Northwest Detectives.”
“You’re in Special Operations now?”
“I expect to hear from you soon, Sonny,” Charley said, and walked out of the restaurant.
Sonny looked out the window and watched him get into a new Ford unmarked car and drive away.
He walked over to where Pat O’Hallihan sat.
“Jesus Christ, what was that all about?” Pat asked.
