Plans From Ray
The next day I called Ray first thing in the morning and told him what Manny had told me.
“Come on, kid. There’s no way that Max’s that stupid. Why would he risk getting a professional hitman like you after him? That’s just crazy,” Ray tried convincing me. I wouldn’t buy it.
“No, Ray. He’s crazy alright. Max thinks I’m here to upset his casino and his operations here. He thinks I’m here to stuff him in some back room doing taxes. That or put him in a hole in the desert.”
“So we’ll just explain it to him. Surely he’ll understand,” Ray said. I was starting to think he was going deaf and senile. Did he not see the trouble that this all was? Didn’t he realize that Max couldn’t be explained to? He had to dealt with. And I wanted to do the dealing.
“Ray, I’ve already done that. I told him months ago that I wasn’t here for that. I explained to him that I was just here to make up for my fuck up in Chicago. He said he understood, but apparently he didn’t,” I was getting really tired of explaining this all to Ray. I just wanted him to say “OK, kid, go get ‘em.” Well, really I’d like him to use my name or something. “Kid” was getting really old. It was alright when I was thirteen, but now, almost forty. It was a little irritating. “Just let me deal with it, Ray. Give me permission to deal with him. I won’t even go after him. I’ll just deal with whatever he throws at me. I’ll convince him of the error of his ways. Just say OK, Ray.” I prayed under my breath. Oh sweet Mary, just give me Max’s blood.
The other end of the line was silent. I heard some shuffling and a drawer open and close. I hear Ray clear his throat. He wasn’t going to let me. I knew it. He’d say “Sorry, kid (again with the ‘kid’), we just can’t have any fighting in the ranks.” and that’d be the end of it.
Ray cleared his throat again. “Sorry, kid,” he began, “we just can’t have any in-fighting. Let us deal with Max. You just keep doing your job. OK?”
I muttered something that must have sounded like agreement and he hung up the phone. For the first time in my life, I wished that I wasn’t part of the Mob.