Haint
By Zaslow Crane
Part 1
The three men walked carefully across the bank’s opulent lobby. The slanted sun rang through the bank’s windows and painted everything a warm, and happy sort of orange. The men traversing the lobby paid the quality of the sunlight no mind at all. They all wore dark, expensive suits, crisp white shirts and perfectly tied ties. They walked directly to the service desk and were immediately ushered into the bank manager’s office. The lead man went into the office alone. The other two stationed themselves just outside as the oaken door closed. Their suits were well tailored enough that the bulge from hidden pistols was not evident, but –
Abe knew they were there just the same.
He walked on felt soled shoes making no noise whatsoever. His passage wasn’t noted by anyone, though if anyone had really been looking they might have seem a ripple in the air; a slight wrinkle in reality. So long as he kept moving, he wouldn’t be seen if he didn’t want to be seen.
Palucci is so predictable. Every time he comes into the bank he does the same thing.
Being almost invisible, it wasn’t so difficult to follow him and note his actions.
Today, he is taking money out of the bank. He’ll go with the manager, into the private suite for important people. The manager has been alerted and will have the money ready for physical transfer. He’ll have a trusted aide bring it in. Palucci’s two goons will guard the door, but since he’s in the manager’s office, there’s no one watching the door to the suite now…
Abe felt his bones creak as he silently made his way to the private suite in back. It was a risk, being shut into a small room with two other people, one of them undoubtedly armed; two more close by.
A risk, but worth it and necessary. Abe thought as he slipped into the room. Besides I haven’t much choice. I’ve been putting this off and I can’t wait much longer.
He always imagined that the little creaks and pops his old joints made were audible to those he crept past, but so far it was all in his mind.
However loud they seemed to him, no one had ever heard him.
In time, Palucci entered the suite as expected, and the bank manager called for the cash to be brought in.
As was his habit, Palucci trusted no one. He counted and checked every bundle. Palucci was a high level gangster; a made man. He’d robbed, swindled, double-crossed many, many people, so being as he was dishonest, he assumed everyone else was.
The bank manager just happened to be an honest man. He’d never dream of cheating Mr. Palucci, not simply because he was honest, but in addition to robbery, swindling, etcetera, Mr. Palucci had also caused a great many people to disappear. It was rumored that a number of his enemies were an integral part of various Freeways and roads around the Greater Los Angeles Area. Palucci Construction was a sign one saw all over L.A.- Wherever someone was building anything big, Palucci had a piece of it.
The money was rolled in on a cart pushed by a nervous bank employee. It was covered with a heavy, discrete cloth. The bank employee rolled it past the two guards and adjacent to the large mahogany table in the private suite. Then he hastily beat a retreat.
Palucci lifted the cloth and carefully folded it and set it aside. Under the cloth were twenty stacks of hundred dollar bills.
One’s all I really need… two would be great…Abe thought. He readied himself.
“You don’t need me here to count your money Mr. Palucci. I really have other pressing business, so I’ll leave you in private.” He made to leave the office. He pointedly never seated himself to make leaving easier.
“Why don’t you stay. Just for a bit…” His voice was a basso that sounded cultured and measured, but in it the manager also heard a command, so he found a seat.
As was his habit, Palucci counted the money and checked that the bundles were all hundred dollar bills, and then, one by one, placed them in a wide mouthed valise.
By the time he’d checked sixteen or seventeen bundles the valise was quite full.
This was Abe’s cue. He flicked a penny against the wall. The sound it made caused both men to stop and look. He deftly reached in to the valise and extracted one bundle, placing it in a special pocket in his coat.
Palucci and the manager didn’t see anything, and even if they had, who would wonder about finding a penny in a bank? The only question might have been: where had it been hiding and why did it fall now? But that didn’t come up, and Myron decided against trying for a second bundle. This would take care of his needs for quite some time.
Ten minutes later, he was walking, as a normal person might, making his way, in a roundabout fashion back home. Going around blocks and making unexpected changes as if he’d seen something interesting in a shop window was a good way to spot a tail. He’d never spotted one yet, but being careful was what had kept him alive for so long. Well, being lucky had a bit to do with it- quite a bit. He was six when he and his family were scooped up by Nazi sweeps and hustled off to a Death camp. Only Abe’s desire to blend in with the wallpaper; his fear and desire to not be seen had kept him alive that day.
He shook his head at the memory. He still felt guilty. As if there was something, anything that a six year old might have done to foil a half dozen fully grown, armed men, and save his family. He never saw any of his family again.
Abe turned down an alleyway that was awash with brilliantly colored clothing for sale. It was a tad darker in the alley and he saw the now bright sunlight as a brilliant haze at the end of the alley.
He also saw a figure in a dark suit stride confidently into the middle, the silhouette blocking his way.
Uh oh…
Abe turned on a dime and walked the other direction. The man was there before he could reach the relative safety of the street. He noticed that the clothing vendor was trying to slink away, as if he knew what was coming.
Abe began sweating profusely, now. He turned again and hurried toward the street on the far side of the alley. There was no one blocking the way!
He almost ran. He knew that he could only run a few feet these days before he started coughing. If he started coughing he couldn’t disappear. He controlled his fear and quick stepped toward the light.
A few feet from the hustling of the street, with cars and people going by, Abe noticed that he’d stopped going forward. Instead, he felt strong hands gripping him under his arms, and in no time he was high enough off the ground to stop him from squirming. He no longer wanted to be let go!
More next week
Also, more in my website – Zaslow Crane writer