Johnny sat in the front seat of the van and ignored Abba’s DANCING QUEEN on the radio. His eyes were locked on the road, as if he were expecting to spot a billboard with his name on it, except the Bowery only had neon signs above the various dive bars patronized by the local drunks.
One good break could save him from a life of crime. Salvation hadn’t seemed too much to ask, but tonight’s gig was a failure in the making. Sean had gone off with Caroline and Tammi was with her brother. Frankie was loaded and Johnny was totally to blame, since he had chosen the members of the band. When the van parked in front of CBGBs, bobby Vacca asked, “Mind if I get a hamburger at Phoebe’s?”
“Why not? The rest of the band has fucked off.” The guitarist checked the distant ConEd clock tower. It was 10:20. "Make it quick. We'll have to set up by 11:30."
"I'll be back no time." Bobby tossed the keys to the hustler and walked to the gas station at the corner of 3rd Street. Several taxis were waiting for fill-ups and their drivers were immersed in a discussion about the safety of bulletproof windows, otherwise the Bowery was devoid of cars and derelicts. Still he glanced both ways before getting into a late-model sedan at the curb, inside which he greeted the two men in black by saying, "You two auditioning for a Baretta re-run?"
"You have a thing against the turtlenecks?" Louie asked from the passenger side, his shoulders strangled by the leather jacket.
“No one sees black at night and if they do, they say the guy was wearin’ black, unless he was black,” Richie Manucci joked and the three young men from Brooklyn laughed, mostly to relieve the tension building before any job. Examining the non-descript Chevy, Bobby leaned over to the wheelman. "How hot is this car?"
"Found it in front of a whorehouse on Remsen Street in the Heights.” The heavy-set car thief quickly defended his selection. “It'll be two weeks before the cops in Hell's Kitchen receive the 10-22 and by that time the spics in Hunts Point will have chopped it to parts."
“Let me guess. You’ve done this before.”
“A little.”
Bobby accepted the driver’s expertise at stealing cars. "You have all you need?"
“I have tape, rope, masks, earplugs so she doesn't see or hear us.” Louie Zip waved a plastic bottle. “I’m not sure how much chloroform I’m supposed to use.”
“Ten seconds should knock her out.” Bobby figured the movies had it right.
"So where’s that stupid malook, Benny Bottles."
"He'll be here soon.” The killer was late and Bobby tapped the front seat. “Richie, repeat what we’re doing tonight?”
“We’re kidnappin’ a rich blonde.”
"Good." Bobby Vacca was pleased by the recent parolee’s professional disinterest and he handed Louie a set of keys to the garage on West 45th Street. They had examined the unused stretch of railroad tracks under the side street and prepared the small office for a siege of boredom. “We’re gonna snatch the girl tonight. After that you head to the safe house in Hell’s Kitchen. Louie has the address.”
"Why aren’t we bringing her to Brooklyn?" Anyone from Bensonhurst hated Manhattan and Louie explained, "Cuz the sentence for violatin’ the Mann Act is twice as long for crossin’ borough lines, right, Bobby?"
Bobby skipped correcting Richie’s rewrite of the Federal kidnapping laws. “That and nothing comes into the neighborhood.”
“Okay.”
“Once you get to the warehouse, Benny Bottles will definitely order Richie to leave."
"I ain't leavin' Louie with that psychopath." Richie announced with a snarling vehemence.
"Oh, yes, you are and I’ll explain why in a few minutes. Louie, it’s you and Benny and the girl. You have to keep her from getting hurt by that madman.”
“What about when I’m makin’ phone calls?” His grandmother was at risk with Benny Bottles.
“Keep them short.” Bobby gave his friend a page of demands and Charles’ phone number.
“Read from this and no ad-libs. Once Chuckie agrees to pay the ransom, we schedule a drop at the bridge on West 45th Street. This is your part, Richie. You’ll be standing under the bridge.”
“You’re goin’ to throw the money to me?” Even Louie Zip didn’t trust him that much.
“No, a suitcase stuffed with newspapers.”
“Then why I have to stand under the bridge for a fugazi?” It was predicted to drop below freezing.
"If the police find a case filled with newspapers, they'll know it was an inside job. I'll be suspect #1 and you guys will come in neck and neck for show and place."
"I'll be under the bridge." Richie sullenly accepted his flunky role.
"Good, Louie, after the phone call arranging the drop, you split the warehouse and leave open the front door. I save the girl, I'm a hero. Back in Brooklyn we split the money. Richie, you’re in for 10% of our cut. Any problems?”
“10% of something beats 100% of nothing any day of the week.”
"Good, this is the biggest job any of us have ever attempted. Any screw-ups and we’ll be planted under the goalposts in the Meadowlands."
"Along with Jimmy Hoffa." Louie answered and Richie tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. "The rat bastard.”
Realizing your place in the scheme of things was almost as important as a proven track record and Bobby appreciated Richie keeping his mouth shut about his cut. "You recognize her, right?"
"In my dreams.” Louie fixed his eyes on his friend to emphasis his appreciation of the risks involved from the actual kidnapping to the pay-off and release. “A skinny blonde with a boyfriend in a leather jacket."
"Before you call, find a distinguishing birth mark."
"If I had binoculars the times I seen her gettin’ humped by this guy, I could tell you now,” Louie commented lewdly and Bobby slapped the front seat explosively. “This isn’t a school outing. This is business. You or fucking Benny mess with Chuckie’s sister slaps another twenty on the kidnapping.”
"Who said anythin’ about gettin' caught." To Louie the mere mention of jail time was as bad as breaking a mirror.
"You fuck up and I'll be taking the heat."
“I’ll keep it in my pants.” The skinny blonde wasn’t his type.
“And I ain’t whippin’ it out under that bridge in this weather.” Richie’s joke wasn’t funny and Bobby knuckled him on the head. It was getting late. "Park across the street from the club.”
“And Benny?”
“Fuck him and the pig he rides.” Bobby wasn’t canceling tonight for the fat gangster.
“You grab the girl and drive her to the garage. Put her in the office and tape her good. After that you can call the number I gave you. From a phone booth. You have dimes?"
"Coupla bucks in a sox.” Richie patted his pocket with a jingle.
“Doubles as a blackjack too." Louie swatted the socked roll into his hand.
"No one dies. We get rich.”
“Manhattan makes and Brooklyn takes.”
“All for us and nothing for the rest.” Bobby Vacca slipped from the car and the sedan left the gas station. IT'S BEGINNING TO LOOK A LOT LIKE CHRISTMAS was on a taxi radio and he mumbled a quick prayer that it was the truth, because none of them needed any fireworks until the 4th of July.
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