Chapter 79 second quarter

The bar was on First Avenue, not far from Delancey Street.It looked like it was going out of business soon.The liquor advertisements in the windows had faded to the point where they were barely visible.The window panes were so dirty you couldn't see inside at all.A few letters on the neon sign were burnt out and now read not Benny but "Wooden Dagger."A beggar with a whiskey bottle in a paper bag sat dejectedly on the sidewalk by the door, oblivious to the pouring rain. Frustrated by the passage of time, Decker walked across the street to the bar.Esperanza followed him, his cowboy hat replaced by a less conspicuous Yankees baseball cap they'd picked up at a souvenir stand along the way.His long hair had been tied back at the back of his head, so it was less noticeable.Before entering the bar, Decker motioned for Esperanza to stop at the door, giving the beggar who wasn't a beggar a good look at them.

"Benny's waiting for us," Decker said. The beggar nodded. Decker and Esperanza walked into the bar, which was filled with smoke.Despite its shabby exterior, the place is surprisingly brisk and there is a lot of noise in the bar as a football game is on on a big-screen TV. Decker walked straight up to the big bartender. "Is Benny there?" "Didn't see him." "I called. It's an appointment." "Who are you?" Decker used an alias, "Charles Laird." "Why didn't you say that earlier?" the bartender gestured across the counter. "Benny's waiting for you in the office. Leave your bag with me."

Decker nodded, handed him the small suitcase, and put the twenty dollars on the counter. "It's wine money, even though we didn't drink." He led Esperanza to a closed door above the counter and stopped. "What's wrong?" Esperanza asked. "Why didn't you knock on the door?" "We've got to go through the motions first. I hope you don't mind being frisked." Beside the door, there were four big men playing billiards.They turned and searched Decker and Esperanza roughly and thoroughly, down to their ankles.Throughout the search process, their eyes remained cold.They found no walkie-talkies or weapons, so with a savage nod, they let them pass and went back to playing pool.They found nothing suspicious because, at Decker's insistence, Esperanza had locked his police badge and handgun in Decker's Jeep Cherokee at the Albuquerque airport.Decker decided that if he and Esperanza had to shoot, they must not use a weapon that would be traced to them in the future.

Decker knocked on the door.Hearing a muffled sound behind the door, he opened it and saw a small, cluttered office with a large man in a striped shirt, bow tie, and suspenders sitting behind a desk.The man was old, bald, with a silvery beard.A shiny brass cane lay across the table. "All right, Benny?" Decker asked. "On a diet. I can't seem to lose the weight. But it's a doctor's order. What about you, Charles?" "I'm in trouble." Benny nodded knowingly, squeezing his double chin together with every movement of his head. "No one will come to me without trouble."

"This is a friend of mine." Decker pointed to Esperanza. Benny raised his hand lazily. "My friend has to make a call." "It's over there." Benny pointed to the pay phone in the corner. "Or is it connected to a payphone in Jersey City?" "Anyone who traces the phone will think you're there," Benny said. Decker gestured to Esperanza and told him to call.As they had agreed, the call was to Miller in Santa Fe to see if there was any news about Beth and McKittrick.Decker was anxious to know if Beth was still alive and called him several times on the road.No news so far.

"Sit down, please," Benny said to Decker as Esperanza put coins into the phone. "How can I help you?" Decker settled into the chair opposite Benny, knowing that there was a rifle under the table between them. "Thank you. You have always been cooperative when I needed help." "It's interesting to me," Benny said, "a change of pace, to do something for my administration." Decker understood what he meant.The CIA's activities are often thought of as limited to overseas, but in fact it maintains offices in major U.S. cities and occasionally operates at home.In theory, though, it always gives the FBI advance notice, as required by presidential decree.Decker had been helped by Benny three years ago in a cooperation with the FBI.That time he had managed to infiltrate some foreign terrorist organization by posing as a member of a gang with Benny's ties.The group was trying to bring down America by flooding the country with counterfeit hundred-dollar bills through organized crime.

"I'm sure the government appreciates you very much," Decker said. "Well, it's over, I don't think about it anymore." Benny shrugged lazily. "That involves my personal interests after all. What is bad for the country's economy is not good for my business." He smiled. "This time, I'm afraid I won't be able to give you such motivation." "Oh?" Benny looked confused. "Now that I have nothing to do with the government, I want you to do me a personal favor." "Help me?" Benny grimaced. Decker heard Esperanza speak into the microphone behind him, his voice low as he asked.

"Help with what?" Apparently Benny was afraid to hear the answer. "I need to know how to contact Nick Giordano." There was usually a tinge of pink in Benny's cheeks, but now he was pale. "No, don't tell me that again. I don't want to get involved in anything you do with Giordano." "I swear to you, this has nothing to do with the government." Benny's previously listless gestures were now forceful. "I don't care! I don't want to know anything about it!" Decker leaned over. "I don't want you to know anything about it either."

Benny's hand suddenly stopped in the air. "Don't want me to know?" "All I want is a simple message. How can I get in touch with Nick Giordano? Not through the owner of one of the restaurants he likes to dine at, not one of his columnists, and not one of his The strategist, but himself. You don't have to introduce us. You're not involved in any way. I'm in charge. Giordano will never know who told me how to get in touch with him." Benny stared at Decker as if trying to understand a foreign language. "Is there any reason why I might want to do it?"

Esperanza's call was over.He turned to Decker. "Any news?" Decker's stomach convulsed. "No." "Thank goodness. At least, no news that she's dead yet. I still have hope." "Her?" Benny lifted his thick eyelids. "A friend of mine. I'm looking for her. She's in trouble." "And Nick Giordano can help get her out?" Benny asked. "He's definitely capable of doing that," Decker said, "and that's what I'm going to talk to him about." "You still haven't given me a reason to help you."

"I love this lady, Benny. I want you to do this because I love her." "You're kidding, right?" "Am I laughing?" "Help me, I'm a businessman." "Then there's another reason. Nick Giordano is particularly interested in this lady. He thinks she killed Joey Scolari." Benny flinched. "You mean Diana Scolari? Joey's wife? My God, Nick has everyone looking for her." "Look, maybe I can help him find her." "Be clear. If you loved her, why would you give her to Nick?" "Then she wouldn't have to flee for life." "Of course not. She's going to die. You still don't understand." "Then this reasoning might work," Decker said. "If Nick Giordano is satisfied with the outcome of my meeting with him, he may want to reward whoever has the good judgment to make it happen." Benny frowned, thinking.