Chapter 4
He drove down Broadway to where the old burned-out house was, near the Teachers' College. He looked out, saw the house dark and deserted, and then he drove around the block and parked on the side street. He wasn't worried about having the jalopy spotted. Nobody would be looking for that license plate. But what he had to take a chance on was the satchel. That was dangerous and he knew it. Supposing there was a police trap, and he walked into it with that satchel full of dough.
He didn't like to leave the money in the jalopy, but he did. He thought he had better go and be sure how the land lay. He walked up the back alley, until he was behind the old house, listened for a minute, and then went up on the back porch. There was a sign there, posted by the police department or the fire department, he didn't know which. It said Keep Out-Danger. He knocked very lightly on the door.
The door opened a crack and Pete looked out.
"Ts it you, Sal?"
"Yes."
"Come in quiet. There was a bunch of kids playing around outside for a while. We was scared they'd come in."
"They gone now?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Come in quiet."
"Is Shoney here?"
"Yeah. Come in quiet."
"I just wanted to see if the coast was clear. I left the satchel in the car around the corner."
"The coast is clear. Everything's okay. Go get the satchel."
Sal went back to his car and fetched the satchel. Pete let him in the door and led him into an inside room. It had been a dining room, and there was still a dining table in it, scorched down one side. There were only two windows and they both opened against the brick wall of a building next door. Nobody could see directly inside. Shoney was half-sitting on the table; he had a flashlight beside him, and its beam lay across the room so there was enough light to see but not enough to be seen anywhere outside. Sal looked around the gloom.
"Where's Joey?"
"He ain't here," said Pete.
"I can see that. Why ain't he here? Where is he?"
"I seen him on the street this afternoon. He said he wanted out."
"Wanted out? What do you mean? It's too late to want out."
"He wanted out of the cut. He don't want none of the dough."
"Why not?"
"I dunno," said Pete.
"I know, all right," said Shoney.
"Well, why? Why didn't he want his cut?"
"He got cold feet," said Shoney. "After he heard you killed the girl he got cold feet."
"I didn't kill the girl," said Sal.
"What?" asked Shoney. "What do you mean by that?"
Sal bit his lip and shrugged a shoulder. He didn't know exactly what he meant by that.
"We all killed her," he said. "It was all of us."
"Come on," said Shoney. "Now, Sal, come on."
"It was fate," said Sal. "Fate. God. Something. She was going to get killed and she got killed. It was her time and she got it. It was just an accident that it was me. Might have been a bus, or a train. Or somebody else. Besides that, it was Pete's fault in the first place. He ran across the street and loused everything up."
Pete Koscki was standing with his lower lip hanging down not comprehending anything much, but Shoney stared at Sal.
"So that's the way you get yourself out of it," he said after a while. "I never heard such a goddamn argument in all my life. Listen, Sal. You was the only one of the three of us that even fired a shot."
"That doesn't make any difference," said Sal,, his lips tightening, the lines of his face tightening, the razor edge in his voice. "We were all in it."
"Shoney's right," said Pete. "Nobody else even fired a shot."
"All right," said Sal. He sensed that the time had come for a showdown, and he was glad to have it, he welcomed it; he was the strongest and the smartest and now was the time to get that understood. "The hell with it. I killed her. I worked out the whole deal in the first place. I stand to take the biggest rap. If they catch me, I'll burn at Trenton. I'm the big risker, the big loser if it goes sour, and so Joey doesn't want his cut, so I'll take Joey's cut. If I'm the main guy I'll take the main cut."
"So you're going to take the main cut, are you?" Shoney's voice was rising.
"Say, you guys," said Pete, "cut it down. People will hear you clear out on the street. Talk in whispers."
Shoney repeated what he had said in a whisper. The whisper was as sharp as a January wind on the North Jersey marsh lands. "So you're going to take the main cut, are you?"
"I got the biggest risk," said Sal. "I wouldn't have done it except Joey cut himself out, and now that he did I think I'm entitled to it. I've got a right to it."
"You've got a right to it," Shoney repeated in his bitter whisper. "We was going to split even shares. There were four of us on the split, and now there's three. So if you take Joey's cut you're actually getting half, not a third."
"So what?" Sal stared at Shoney, and then he turned and stared at Pete.
"It ain't right, that's all," said Shoney. "How much dough is there? The papers said twenty thousand dollars."
"The papers were wrong. There's about sixteen thousand dollars. Joey said there was ten, the papers said there was twenty, but there's really sixteen."
The bitter whisper of the wind on the cold Jersey marshes came back into Shoney's voice.
"You wouldn't have taken a four-thousand-dollar cut before the regular cut, would you have?" Shoney asked.
Sal looked at him a minute, measuring him, and then let him have it with the flat of his hand, full across the face. There was a smack of flesh upon flesh that echoed all around the room, and Shoney reeled against the charred table. The side of his face was livid, and his right fist was clenched, the forearm drawn back and cocked. But Sal was too quick; he already had his .38 in his hand and Shoney, steadying himself against the table, just stared into it. The showdown had come and Sal knew that the balance lay not in quickness or smartness but in guts and force. He was ready; his hand was the stronger; there was no answer to a .38.
"I've taken all the shit I'm going to take from you, Shoney," he said. "I planned this show and I put it on the road. And my word goes."
There was a long silence.
Then Pete said: "Don't start nothing now, Shoney. He's right anyhow. You and me never could have figured this out, and, like he says, he's got the biggest rap. Let him take the cut any way he wants."
"Besides all that," Sal said, "as long as I got one murder rap around my neck I can't see how it would be much worse having another one."
"All right," Shoney said at last, still staring at the barrel of the .38, "cut it any goddamn way you want."
Sal put the .38 back in the shoulder holster and opened the satchel. He took out the stacks of bills in their brown paper wrappers, and the coins in the leather bag.
"I'll count it out," he said. "You check it, Shoney."
Sal laid the flashlight so the beam fell across the table. Then he counted the money out into four piles of a little less than four thousand dollars each. He pulled two of the piles toward him. "That's Joey's and this is mine," he said. "I'll keep Joey's in case he changed his mind. Check?" He stared at Shoney, watching for a move, watching for anything, but the fight was gone out of Shoney. Sal made a mental note of that; looking at the barrel of a .38 was too much for Shoney. In a real tough spot-like maybe the next job would be-Shoney might not have what it takes. It looked like Shoney would have to go. "Check?" Sal repeated it, bitterly and contemptuously.
"Check," said Shoney.
"That okay, Pete?"
"That's okay," Pete said.
"Okay," said Sal. He picked up his stack of bills and stuffed them into his pockets. "I advise you guys," he said, "not to flash this all at once. That's just what the coppers will be watching for. Guys like us, flashing a lot of money."
"It ain't much money," said Shoney, sullenly.
"It's enough. It's too much to flash. You take it easy with that dough."
"Sure," Pete said. "We'll take it easy."
"And remember another thing. The next one is going to be better. No chicken feed like sixteen thousand bucks. The next one we'll get enough so we can really go places. We can retire. We can take it on the lam, out of the state, out of the country." He said that, because he wanted them on his side, he wanted them loyal, but already, in his mind, he had counted them out. They weren't good enough, either one of them. "You remember Brink's?"
"Sure do."
"Yeah. One, two, three million, something like that. And don't think we won't need a deal like that."
"What do you mean, need it?" Shoney asked.
Sal fixed him with a severe look. "We are too hot. On account of that babe getting bumped off, accidentally like she did, we are too hot. We need a big one so we can pull stakes."
They all fell silent, and then Sal said: "Well, I'm going to blow. I want this satchel and the .38 at the bottom of the river. Don't you guys get picked up with any hardware on you, either. Watch your step. I'll see you."
He drove his jalopy to the Belleville Turnpike but turned off on the River Road and parked. He walked out on the bridge, looked carefully every way and then pitched the satchel, and the gun and holster. He could not see it go, but he heard it splash. He still had the .32 Mauser.
Since he didn't want to carry all that money around, Sal decided to pay a visit to Angela. When he arrived at her apartment, she was sitting at the kitchen table dressed in a rose-colored bathrobe. She appeared to have nothing on underneath it, her full breasts partially exposed at the loose-fitting top of it. Her full lips were sullen and there was a bottle of whiskey and a couple of glasses in front of her.
"What are you doing?" he asked. "Getting plastered?"
She said thickly, "Not getting. Have got. Have got plastered."
"What's got you on edge, babe? Waiting around for me to get back here and fuck you?"
Her voice came, muffled and filled with self-pity, whiskey and other ingredients. "Don't you think I get tired sitting here all alone, wondering where you are, wondering what in hell you're doing? Don't you think I get worried?"
"There's nothing to worry about," Sal said gruffly. "What we both could use is a nice hot bath and a little lovin'."
"You think sex solves everything, don't you?" Angela said angrily. But her cunt started. to moisten, in spite of her ambivalent feelings towards Sal at that moment.
"I got some stuff to do downstairs, so how about you run us a hot bath with bubble bath and all the trimmings and I'll be right up."
Angela dragged herself to the bathroom and started to prepare their bath. Sal certainly was a tough one, but unfortunately, he was all she had.
Sal quickly stashed his loot in a disconnected flue pipe in the basement and replaced the dust he'd removed in the process. Then he hurried upstairs to see how Angela was doing with their bath.
"Hey, kiddo," he sneaked up behind her and kissed her on the back of the neck.
Angela squirmed at his touch, feeling ticklish and aroused at the same time.
"It's going just fine, Sal, honey," Angela said, turning around to face him. Sal took her in his arms and her loose-fitting robe came undone completely. Sal brushed it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor. He kissed her full on the mouth and Angela pressed her crotch into him.
"Mmmmm ... that's real good, babe," Sal said softly as they came out of the kiss.
"I try my best," Angela told him, only half-kidding.
Sal pressed his flaccid penis against Angela's body in a grinding motion. He had so much on his mind, that he was a little worried that he wouldn't be able to get his cock up. Angela started to undress him, slowly and carefully, Sal standing there motionless, enjoying the attention. First, she unbuttoned his shirt, unfastening each button with almost excruciating care. Sal bent down to tongue her as she started to unzip his pants. They moved their tongues into each other's mouth, probing and sucking as Angela undressed him. When he was completely naked, he took her by the hips and jerked his body back and forth against hers, pretending to fuck her.
"Oh Sal, you're such a kidder!" Angela laughed.
They slipped into the hot, steamy tub, scented with fragrant powders and oils.
Angela's wet tits, bobbed provocatively in the bubble-filled water, and Sal was filled with a sudden urge to suck on them.
"Come here, honey tits!" Sal said, pulling her to him, as the bath water sloshed over a little onto the floor.
"Oh Sal, you play so rough!" Angela giggled as Sal grabbed hold of one of her tits and practically swallowed it. He sucked hard on the warm flesh mound and when he let go of the suction force, he swirled his tongue around and around on the dusky, upturned nipple.
"Oooooo...." Angela sighed, relishing the sensation in the warmth of the bath water.
"You've sure got a terrific pair," Sal slurped, starting in on the other tit. He felt his prick jerk a little, and for a moment at least, he thought that he'd be able to concentrate on some good, old-fashioned sex for a while.
Angela reached for a large bar of bath soap and began to do a thorough soap job on Sal's body. She paid careful attention to his hardening cock and hairy balls. She rubbed the bar firmly against his long shaft and felt it swell under her touch.
"I think he likes that!" Angela teased.
"Huh? Wha?" Sal asked, having been distracted.
"Peter," Angela said.
"Peter who?" Sal asked, starting to get annoyed.
"Peter the penis!" Angela said, laughing at his ridiculousness.
"Yeah, yeah, babe. I see what ya mean!" Sal said, forcing a laugh.
"Look, Sal, just relax a little, okay? Like you always tell me to do, okay Sal, honey, okay?"
"Sure, babe, sure. Just relax, right." Sal just couldn't seem to keep his mind off his worries, but he'd have to try a little harder or Angela would start asking more questions. And that was one thing he didn't want to deal with.
Angela was getting a little suspicious. Maybe this time, Sal had done something terrible. Sal caught that look in her eye and shot a rather hateful and menacing one back, so Angela decided to stay out of his mess and just fuck the guy. If he wanted to get himself killed, let him.
Angela lowered her mouth to Sal's semierect dick and planted a small kiss on the head of it, before lunging at the shaft with her tongue. She licked it rapidly, moving her mouth up and down, up and down.
"Oh Angie ... that feels real nice," Sal said.
Angela groped for his balls under the bath water and when she found them, she moved them around in her fingers, feeling their strange rough/soft texture and lump consistency. As she stroked and massaged his balls, she continued to tongue his cock. Periodically, when she got to the top of it, she would flick her tongue around the head of it or suck as hard as she could on that sensitive piece of skin, before traveling back down his meaty shaft.
Sal lay back in the water lazily, letting Angela work her mouth on his precious prick. She wasn't the best cock sucker he'd ever been with, but she had sincerity and enthusiasm. Yeah, that was it, sincerity and enthusiasm. Those were the qualities that he appreciated about Angela most. She sucked hard on his prick head and Sal felt the pressure building in his balls. Sincerity and enthusiasm and that great pair of tits of hers!
"Sal ... am I doing you okay?" Angela looked up between his legs.
Sal felt a little contemptuous of her for a moment. "Whadya stop for? Sure, you're doing great. Just great. Best head I ever got," Sal lied weakly.
Angela, filled with fresh enthusiasm, attacked Sal's rod with even greater energy. She awkwardly positioned her body so that her head was in a better position to give him maximum coverage in her mouth. She teased his prick, taking in an inch or so of it, then releasing it, slowly. She increased her rhythm gradually, taking in more and more of his delighted cock each time, until she was deep-throating him.
"Oh my God!" Sal wailed, trying to keep his wad in place.
Angela finally swallowed most of his meat, taking the thick shaft in up to Sal's balls. Once his penis was down her throat, she did the best she could to flick her tongue around on it.
"Oh ... baby you're going to make me come!" Sal screamed, feeling the intensity grow in his blood engorged tool.
But Angela continued to suck his cock relentlessly. She became drunk with the power she had over him for a few minutes, when she was deciding for once, if and when she'd allow him to come.
Sal, who usually held up pretty well under pressure, felt his reserves of control draining rapidly. He hadn't necessarily intended to shoot his wad down Angie's throat, or at least he wanted to be the one to announce it if that was the way things were going to go. But hell, he couldn't even think straight or see straight for that matter!
"Argh ... omigod! I'm going to come!" Sal screamed finally, unable to hold his load any longer. Angela enjoyed watching him while he climaxed and felt the tension in his body. Sal felt like he was falling over the edge of a giant cliff and that he had no control over how long he fell or where he would land.
"Ooooooo ... mmmmmmm...." he sighed as his exploding penis sent shot after shot of hot sperm flying down Angela's throat. She kept swallowing the semen as it flew out of his prick, and because of the way his dick was positioned in her throat, she barely tasted the spermy fluid or gagged on it like she usually did.
Sal came back down to earth very slowly. The sensuous bath water had intensified his experience along with his need to escape his problems.
"That was incredible, Angela," Sal sighed, opening his eyes again and reaching out to her. The bath water had cooled some and there was a great deal of it on the floor.
Sal planted an obligatory kiss on Angela's mouth, which was a little sore from all that sucking she had been doing.
"You want I should go down on you now?" Sal asked, suddenly realizing that his partner might need a little more to get her rocks off.
"Maybe," Angela answered. "Let's finish our bath first."
They soaped each other gently and with warm familiarity and then showered together to rinse off their bodies. Sal's played-out prick welcomed the respite, since the night was young. There was always the chance that even if he and Angela didn't fool around, that some other pussy would want a few inches of it.
When they had dried off completely, Sal followed Angela into the dark bedroom. She stretched her clean, soft body out on the bed and Sal climbed on top of her. "I bet you are tired, aren't ya, Sal?" Angela asked, with almost motherly concern in her voice.
"Nah. I'm okay," Sal answered, always playing the inexhaustible stud. Even though she chucked around a few extra pounds, Sal liked the soft, warm feeling of Angela's full figure against his own small frame. Maybe that meant he really wanted to fuck his mother, Sal told himself, laughing wryly inside. He let his tongue explore Angela's warm body with new interest. He rammed his tongue into one of her ears and then pressed his wet mouth to the nape of her neck.
"Mmmm, that feels nice, Sal honey," Angela sighed appreciatively.
He moved his tongue down to her full breasts, licking and nibbling at them as if for the first time. Angela cooed delightedly and Sal felt his proud pecker start to jerk with excitement once again.
"Are you going to eat me out, Sal?" Angela asked, sounding a bit drowsy.
"Sure, babe. Whatever you want," Sal told her, running his tongue down from her tits to her round belly. He pressed his face into her pubic bush and enjoyed the damp, rough texture of it against his face. He pushed his nose into her clitoris, inhaling her distinctive scent and then set to work on her clitoris. But, Sal noticed suddenly that Angela wasn't responding the way she usually did when he worked on her clit. He looked up at her from between her legs and realized that somehow she had managed to fall asleep. He half-smiled and covered her up, her round white belly moving up and down with her deep heavy breathing.
"C'est la vie," Sal told himself, recalling a well-worn phrase from high school French class. He put on his trousers and shirt, went to the kitchen and put on his blue jacket and hat. He took the .32 Mauser out of the jacket pocket, looked at it, pulled out the clip, saw that it was loaded, slid it back with a click and set the safety catch. Then, he put it back and pulled his hat brim down, letting his eyes go like slits. He felt smooth and cool. He stood and listened and he could hear Angela beginning to snore.
He went out on the rickety stairway and started down. The April night was soft and moist with the vapors from the North Jersey marshes. Sal did not look back at the house when he left.