Mile High

Mile High Read Online Free PDF Page B

Book: Mile High Read Online Free PDF
Author: Richard Condon
Salvatore shrugged. “They was like standin’ there when the cops got it.”
    Paddy considered the information. “Well, Sal,” he said, “there’s always more button men, ain’t there?”
    â€œThese are Don Carmelo’s sisters’ kids. Two of them. We got to get them loose.”
    Paddy’s heart sang. He thought of the girl and his nether parts became ascendant, his lust like the taste of good wine. “Well!” he said cheerfully. “This is the toughest one yet, ain’t it? Where’s a telephone?”
    Don Salvatore led him out of the restaurant with the two troop commanders bringing up the rear. The procession went down the street to a horse room that had been paying Paddy tribute for many years but that he had never set foot in before. He made a call to Rollo Gant, asked a few questions and listened with care. He hung up, did not speak but led the way back along the street to the restaurant. When they were seated at the table again he said, almost tasting Maria Corrente’s mouth, almost feeling her legs wrapped around him, “No wonder Judge Gant won’t move. Yiz may all be cooked.”
    â€œWhassamatta?”
    â€œSweet Jesus, Sal, it’s only less than a month ago when the Fratellanza killed Chief Hennessey in New Oreleens.”
    â€œWhat the hell?”
    â€œI know. I know. He butted in. But he was chiefa police and every cop in this country was hot about it, and now, Sweet Saint Joseph, Sal, yiz have killed two more cops and shoot a little kid to make it all the worse.” He mopped his brow with a silk handkerchief to indicate that he was enormously agitated. “I’ll tell you this. You can’t blame Rollo Gant for going to sleep on this one.”
    Don Salvatore was grim. He did not look endearing any more. “Tell me somet’ing, Paddy. You not gunna do nuttin’?”
    Paddy drummed on the tabletop with his fingertips. “If I do something, Sal, it’s not because we need yiz in the election. Make sure Carmelo understands that. This is between you and me only.”
    â€œYou mean if you fix it, that’s between us and you?”
    â€œRight.”
    â€œI unnerstan’.”
    â€œI better talk to Carmelo and whoever else he wants to have there.”
    â€œWhen?”
    â€œThe quicker.”
    â€œWe get back to you, Paddy.”
    Don Salvatore got up. They shook hands, then Paddy shook hands with the others. The three men left the restaurant and Paddy sat on at the table feeling spiritual now about the girl. The carnality had passed. He lit a cigar two nuns had given him the Saturday before, and since he didn’t smoke, he let it burn like incense in the thick, white soup plate in the center of the table. He took to dreaming of sons, then of a beautiful old age when that would come, as it probably must. The spiritual feeling about the girl didn’t last. The other came back to him with rush of blood and he had to adjust his clothing surreptitiously. He decided at that moment that he would undress her instead of letting her undress herself. If she went off to undress in some room away from the bed it could be forever before she came out again, and he knew he couldn’t stand up to the waiting. He changed the subject in his mind abruptly; otherwise he felt he’d be out raping milk-wagon horses. He thought about buying her a fur coat. The restaurant proprietor approached, rubbing his hands almost to shreds and asking if Paddy would like some prosciutto or maybe one or two little artichokes?
    â€œVery good of you, I’m sure,” Paddy said. “Perhaps you’d send out for a small bottle of just plain grape juice?” The proprietor was off like a racing dog. Paddy watched the blue cigar smoke rise and curl, swaying in the air before him like a beautiful ballerina bending herself toward him. He enjoyed the grape juice and formulated his campaign. He left a dollar
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