The King of New York

Catch up on previous chapters here.

—

“I can’t believe you knew and didn’t tell me,” Casey yelled from his bedroom as he came into view.

Quinton sat on the couch, smoking and trying to wrap his mind around what they’d learned. Sam had been so convincing in the car that day. But he’d had a gun in his ribs, and if there’s anything a soldier knows, it’s a man is going to lie when facing down the barrel of a loaded gun. Quinton kicked himself for going about it the wrong way. He knew better. Still, Sam had sold him, and sold him hard. Worst, Quinton had believed him. Sam had convinced him everything Quinton had brought up was just a coincidence. All that evidence. Quinton hadn’t felt dumb very often in his life, but Sam had made him feel like an idiot and that feeling wasn’t sitting right.

“I had suspicions. That’s it.”

“But you talked to him about it, right? You said you already talked to him about it. What did he say?”

“I didn’t know what it was yet. I just noticed a few things here and there,” Quinton said. “They seemed like coincidences, so I asked Sam about it and he explained. Then I dropped it. I didn’t want to bring it up if it wasn’t anything, you know? Things were going good and I didn’t want to ruin it. I know you like the guy and the money’s been right. I didn’t wanna fuck that up over some bullshit.”

Casey looked at him for what felt like a long time.  

“Q, what did he say?” Casey asked again.

“He spun something about the old cop making it all up. Like the old dude was desperate for one last shot at glory. Shit, it sounded possible. You know cops.”

“It sounded possible? That’s all you got? You didn’t follow him or look into him anymore after that? You just took his word for it.”

“I know…” Quinton said.

“Godammit, man. You of all people…”

Quinton rubbed his head in his hands. He was frustrated. At himself, at Sam, hell, at Casey. Everything. Everyone. They could all go to hell.

“I know, man. I know. I feel like an idiot.”

They sat there together as dawn crept in through the window. They’d been round and round with this conversation and were getting nowhere. Casey grabbed a good staring spot on the wall and spaced out. It was his thinking face and Quinton knew better than to interrupt when Casey was trying to have a think. It was liking waking someone who’d been sleepwalking. You never knew how he was going to react, or even overreact. He’d once put a knot on Quinton’s head when he dared shaking him from his trance. That was the last time Quinton tried to wake Casey from his thinking. Let the man stare a hole in the wall. At least it was quiet. Quinton ran through his conversation with Sam again and again.

“I’ve got your back,” Sam had said. His eyes pleading the whole time. He had tapped into that soldier shit. Brotherhood and watching each other’s back. He knew who his audience was and used him perfectly. And Quinton had bought it, hook, line, and sinker. What a chump. And Quinton had been right! He’d been right about Sam the whole time and he let that two-face little shit talk him out of it. He’d led him away from the truth with some quickly spun bullshit. It was embarrassing. But now Quinton knew for sure. This one piece of missing information had unlocked everything for him. It all fit now. It made sense. Some sense anyway. He and the cop were related, but how? And most importantly, if they were related, why was Sam challenging him in the streets of New York? And why was he using Quinton and Casey to do it? That’s what didn’t make sense. No sense at all. Something was missing.

“Okay…what do we know? And what do we do about it?” Casey asked.

Quinton stubbed out his cigarette and thought about Casey’s questions.

“They’re related. They gotta be. Somehow. The last name.”

“Right. Augustine. Unless…”

“Unless what?”

“Unless Ruth’s friend. What was her name?”

“Julia,” Quinton said.

“Right, Julia. Unless Julia has it wrong somehow. But what are the odds, huh?” Casey said. “There’s no way Sam and the old cop aren’t related, right? That’s too much of a coincidence. We just happen to partner up with a guy whose real last name is the same as the cop being challenged at our jobs? There’s no way.”

“The odds are astronomical.”

“Right, whatever,” Casey said. “What else we know?”

“He’s challenging the old man for some reason. He’s dropped his name at every job so far.”

“No. Not true,” Casey said, catching Quinton off-guard. “He didn’t on the last one. That was right after you talked to him, right?”

Quinton nodded. Casey was catching stuff he was missing. The world was upside down.

“That was the truck, right there on the street in broad daylight. No chance to separate from us. Maybe he couldn’t figure out how to do it without you hearing? Didn’t want to take the chance of us catching it.”

“Maybe,” Quinton said.

He thought long and hard about the Sam he knew and the Sam he didn’t. Yet. That would change soon if he had his way.

“But if his dad or uncle or whatever is a cop, what’s he doing knocking over banks and trucks with us?” Quinton asked. “What’s the point? What’s his goal?”

“That’s what’s sticking me. I don’t get it. Needing the cash is one thing. That I understand. But why talk shit to a cop who probably knows who you are? That doesn’t even make sense to me,” Casey said with a shrug.

Quinton turned the problem over in his brain.

“So why don’t we just grab him, stick a gun his mouth, and make him tell us what’s what?” Casey said.

“I tried that, remember? Dude just lied straight to my face, and I bought it all the way. He was convincing, Casey. He’s got game,” Quinton said with a hint of admiration.

“Yeah…that’s the point. You tried it. I didn’t.”

The big guy had a point. There were things Casey was willing to do that Quinton just wasn’t. There had always been a darkness to Casey, and it had been useful a time or two. It allowed Quinton to keep his hands somewhat clean and allowed him to disassociate from the things they did. Pulling information out of an unwilling participant was right in Casey’s wheelhouse.

“Look. We’re still missing some pieces,” Quinton said. “We need to figure this out before we see him again. He’s had the upper hand the whole time we’re known him. That’s changed now. We’ve got an advantage. Let’s use it.”

“Okay, what do you suggest?”

“We tail him and figure it out. We’re supposed to meet up to talk about the next job, right? So we follow him after. I’ll pick us up a car he won’t recognize, and we’ll see where he goes and who he talks to. That should tell us something.”

“I like it,” Casey said with a nod. “And if that doesn’t work, we grab him and you let me go to work on him. Get some answers that way.”

Quinton nodded even though he didn’t like the idea.

“We need to know more about this old cop. There’s obviously something there. We just need to figure out what it is.”

“We could grab him too,” Casey said.

His usefulness had gone past its sell-by date.

“Let’s call that Plan D, buddy,” Quinton said.

Casey nodded and grabbed more beers from the kitchen.

Sleep could wait. They had plans to make.

—

The sun was shining bright through the big windows that graced the front of Julia’s branch. She suddenly wished she’d called out for the day. It was too pretty to be stuck inside dealing with rude people for 10 hours at a time. She’d found herself thinking of Sam Augustine more than she meant to, and the weather didn’t help. There was something romantic about autumn. They’d been out a few times since the night on the boat and old feelings had started to creep back up. But she wasn’t sure that was a good thing. He was different now, sure, but there still wasn’t something right between them. She just couldn’t tell what it was. Maybe she just wasn’t used to a Sam who was grown up and mature. Maybe she still didn’t trust him after everything he’d put her through. Maybe she was just overthinking everything. There were a lot of maybes.

Her new mobile phone was ringing, already on its sixth ring before she could fish it out of her bag and answer it. She recognized the number and steeled herself to answer. She hated this bulky thing. She hated she couldn’t just use her desk phone like normal.

“Yeah,” she said, her back turned to the lobby as she hunched over in her chair. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea… Yeah, I know… When did he say that?... He hasn’t said anything to me about it… I hear what you’re saying, but I still need to hear it from him…Yeah, that’s the way it works. You know that… Alright. Tell Mr. Kane to call me and then we can work out the details… Yeah, another couple of million a month shouldn’t be a problem but let me talk to my father to verify…Okay. Talk soon.”

She punched the button to hang up her call and then tossed the brick back into her bag. She turned around to find Sam waiting patiently on the other side of the counter, watching her. She straightened her clothes and put on a big smile.

“Hey. You scared me,” she said.

“Sorry, didn’t want to interrupt. Sounded important.”

“Just a colleague of my dad’s. Wants a tour of the bank sometime,” she said.

He nodded. Her work life sounded boring. Good for her.

“Ready for lunch?”

“Can you give me another fifteen? We’re shorthanded today and I need to make sure the front is covered before I head out.”

“Not a problem. I grabbed a spot to the left when you come out. Easy to spot,” he said.

He returned her smile and walked back to his car to wait. Sam was ready for it to get cold again. Enough of this sunshine and a hesitant autumn. He wanted winter and sweaters and big fires in the fireplace. He missed the cold because it made him think of his parents and how they would dance to Christmas music, holding each other close as they moved together. He’d sneak down and watch them from the staircase in his pajamas, knowing full well he was supposed to be in bed. He missed his parents. He missed having a family to call his own.

Julia caught him by surprise when she opened the passenger door and dropped in.

“Did I scare ya?” she asked.

“A little bit, yeah,” he said with a laugh.

“Good! Where we going?”

“Thought I’d take you somewhere special today. Sound good?”

She nodded and buckled up. The special place was a sidewalk café off of Prince Street. It had been his parents favorite and today he felt nostalgic. Gerry, looking like her usual million bucks in Gucci and dark sunglasses, welcomed Sam with a kiss on the cheek and an extended hand to Julia.

“Julia, this is my aunt Gerry.”

“Geraldine Capet. Nice to meet you, darling,” Gerry said.

Julia smiled and shook her hand. “Julia—”

“Oh, I know,” Gerry said with a smile.

She motioned for them to sit down. They looked good together. Gerry would remind herself to tell Sam that later. She was happy for the kid. He needed to get laid; she just hadn’t been sure how to broach the subject. He seemed more relaxed now. More himself. She was happy for him.

“Been waiting long?” Sam asked.

“Nah. Not long,” she lied. She wasn’t one to complain.

“It all looks so good,” Julia said as she looked at the menu.

“You can’t go wrong. This was my parents’ favorite spot back in the day. They met right over there and sat down to talk at this very table,” he said.

Gerry noticed when Julia rubbed his hand in comfort.

“Let me order for the table, dear,” Gerry said to them both. “I won’t steer you wrong.”

After a lovely lunch of good food and fun conversation, Julia excused herself to go freshen up. Gerry dropped the smile. It was time for business.

“Guard goes on break every four hours and takes a forty-five around 11:30 every day. Could be easy, but we need to take a couple more looks to be sure,” Gerry said quietly.

Sam didn’t look at the bank over his shoulder. He simply picked lint off his crossed legs and listened to his aunt.

“That could work. How much we looking at?”

“Depends on the day. Catch them with cash for check cashing on Friday and it could be upward of two hundred, three if it’s around the first or the fifteenth.”

He gave an impressed nod.

“The guys will love that,” he said.

“You’re starting to like her, huh?” Gerry said with a smile of her own.

“Never stopped, Gerry,” Sam said. I’ve thought about her every single day since college. She’s a sweet girl.”

“Good. Happy for you, kid. You look good together,” Gerry said, saving the hammer.

Sam smiled. He was happy for the first time in a long time.

“But you’re getting lazy, boyo,” Gerry said.

“Yeah? How so?”

“Did you miss the company or did you just not clock ‘em?” Gerry said.

She nodded down the street behind Sam. He slowly turned to look for himself.

“No.” Sam stayed where he was. “Tan Caprice down about a block,” Gerry said. “They parked about two minutes after you two sat down and have been there since. Haven’t taken their eyes away from us. Friends of yours?”

“How many in the car?”

“Just one as far as I can tell, but he looks like he’s talking to someone every now and then.”

“Cops?”

“Don’t look like cops, but that doesn’t mean much these days. They’re sloppy enough to be cops.”

“Yonkers, maybe?” Sam said.

He didn’t want to say Casey or Quinton’s names with Julia lurking around somewhere.

“Maybe. Can’t tell. But they know we’re on to them. They pulled a U-turn and headed off.”

“Shit, Gerry, you couldn’t—”

“Everything okay?” Julia asked as she got back to the table.

She caught Sam off guard, but he recovered quickly.

“Everything is perfect. Ready to head back?”

“Yeah, I’m already late,” she said with a frown. “It was nice to meet you, Gerry. Maybe we can get together again soon.”

“I’d like that,” Gerry said as she shook the young woman’s hand. “Goodbye, darling. Take good care of my boy.”

Julia smiled and put her arm inside of Sam’s as they walked back to the car. What a perfect day.

The drive back was a quiet one. Julia content with how things were progressing, Sam more occupied with his rearview mirror and who may be following him.

“I really like Gerry,” Julia said.

She thought it was cool Gerry went by a man’s name. She could pull it off; Julia wasn’t sure she could do the same.

“There’s no one like her,” Sam said.

He was still checking behind him but hadn’t seen anyone tailing him yet.

“What does she do? Like for a living.”

“Honestly, I don’t know. She’s lived at the house since dad died, but she’s not there a lot. She travels all the time.”

“Must be nice,” Julia said.

Sam didn’t like how it came out of her mouth.

“She’s never asked me for a cent, you know. Not once. She even offered to pay rent,” he said.

It had come out a little more forcefully than he meant to. She was caught off guard.

“That’s good,” she said with a polite smile.

Sam didn’t say anything. He’d surprised himself with how defensive he was about Gerry. But it made sense. She was the only family he had left.

—

“Gerry,” Sam called as he came through the front door. “Gerry!”

“In here,” he heard her call from the office. His heart was still beating through his chest.

“What’d you learn?” he asked as he plopped down on the soft leather couch.

“Nothing. They were gone.”
“Dammit. That’s the last thing I need,” Sam said.

“Shouldn’t worry until there’s something to worry about,” Gerry said as she smoked behind the desk. She was opening mail with a regal letter opener cast in silver.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Who could be following me?”

“Who says they were following you?”

“What do you mean? You said—”

“I said they pulled up after you two sat down. They could be after her.”

“What are the odds of that? With everything we’ve got going on,” Sam said.

“Her dad’s wealthy. She works at a bank. Maybe they’re security. Maybe they mean to grab her. I’ve seen it happen.”

She ripped into another letter and tossed the opener back into a drawer.

“What haven’t you seen?” Sam said.

She laughed and shook her head like, not much.

 “What do we do?”

“Watch and wait,” Gerry said. “See if you clock them when it’s just you or when you’re with her. That’ll tell you something. Just be patient.”

Sam shook his head. “You know that’s not my strong suit.”

“It needs to be if you’re going to do this long term. You keep trying to keep up with everything instead of making it go at your pace,” she said. “But you’ll learn. One way or another.”

More sage advice from his criminal mentor. She could be so obtuse.

“I don’t plan on doing this long term. We’ve talked about that,” he said.

They had talked about it, but Gerry saw the fire in his eyes when he was planning a job or counting the take. Sam was enjoying himself, whether he realized it or not.

“I know, kid. You’ll get there.”

Sam decided it was best not to argue with her. “Dinner tonight?” he asked.

“Nah, I got plans. Thanks though. When are you seeing Julia again?”

“I don’t know. We’re playing it by ear. Don’t think she sure about me, about us just yet, you know? She wants to take things slow.”

Gerry gave her nephew a knowing look.

“That girl is crazy about you. I can tell. Like I said, let it come to you. You’ll get there.”

Sam smiled and left his aunt behind in the office.

It was a couple of hours later when he came back down to the main living room, shoeless in a sweatshirt and jeans. Julia hadn’t returned her call so maybe she wasn’t up for going out tonight. All the same, he was looking forward to a night in. He planned to catch up on some paperwork for the foundation, maybe watch one of his dad’s favorite Westerns on the tube. That’d be nice. There were some steaks in the freezer. That could be good. He had options and was content to take it easy. Let the worries of whoever was out there waiting for him wait until tomorrow. He was safe inside and tomorrow was a new day.

He’d just poured himself a drink and set a steak out to thaw when he heard a hard knock on the front door.

“One sec,” he called as he set his drink down and jogged to open the door.

It’s a good thing he’d set the glass down because if he hadn’t, he would have dropped it on the hard wood floor. When he opened the heavy oak door, Casey and Quinton were staring back at him, a knowing look on each of their faces. In Casey’s hand was a dark black bag full of something—Sam couldn’t tell what it was—and in the driveway behind them, a tan Caprice.

“Hiya, Sam,” Casey said with an evil smile. “Or is it Mr. Augustine?”

—

Casey and Quinton pushed their way inside, driving Sam backwards into the house. Casey dropped the bag and drove his fist into the side of Sam’s head. Sam went reeling and slid across the floor. Lights flashed in his eyes, and he tried to shake them away. Casey wasn’t done. He kicked Sam hard in the ribs and sent him flying down into the sunken sitting area.

“Alright, Case,” Quinton said. “Pace yourself.”

“Wait,” Sam said through painful breaths.

He had to have at least two broken ribs and a concussion. Casey threw a hard, heavy right. Jesus Christ.

“Oh, we’re done waiting, Sammy. That’s for sure,” Casey said.

He grabbed Sam by his sweatshirt and lifted him into the air.

“Everything okay, Sam?” Gerry said from behind them.

The three of them looked over to see Gerry leaning against the column closest to the stairs. They had interrupted her getting ready for her night out. In her hand, a black Walther PPK, and from the way she held it, it was a safe bet the gun was loaded and ready.

“Who are you?” Casey asked.

“Doesn’t matter who I am, Casey,” Gerry said.

Her tone was flat and even. Casey was surprised but not unhappy to hear his name come out of the mouth of this a good-looking woman he didn’t know. What the hell was going on around here?

“She’s the old broad that was with him at lunch,” Quinton said.

“Hey…don’t be rude,” Gerry said, waiving the Walther at them for emphasis. “Now put him down and we can talk like civilized villains,” she said, pouring on the dramatics she loved so much. “Quinton, take Sam to the couch.” Quinton bumped at the mention of his name, but did as he was told.

“I still don’t know who you are, lady,” Casey said, still ready to fight.

She walked past him and sat down in her spot on the couch. “Sit down, boys.”

Sam and Quinton did as they were told with only Casey standing defiant.

“Casey, sit down or I’m gonna shoot you in the dick,” Gerry said, again pointing her weapon for emphasis. That got Casey’s attention and he found a seat.

“Now, Sam is gonna tell you two what’s going on and then we can go from there. Got it?” Gerry said. They were too flabbergasted to answer. “Sam, go ahead.”

Sam was still trying to catch his breath from Casey’s lethal kick to his ribs. Holy hell was he in pain.

“What do you want to know?” Sam asked.

“Who are you?” Quinton asked.

“You know that already,” Sam said as he held his ribs.

“We know you’re name and where you live. That’s not who you are,” Quinton said. “What’s with the old cop? And what’s it got to do with us?”

Sam looked at Gerry for permission to tell them what they wanted to know. She nodded.

“He’s my grandfather.”

“Jesus Christ…” Casey said. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Sam said.

“And why are you calling him out on our jobs? What’s the point?” Quinton asked.

“It’s hard to explain,” Sam said.

“Try,” Casey said.

“He took something from me. I’m paying him back. That’s the short version.”

Quinton and Casey wanted more but didn’t think they’d get it, no matter how they asked.

“Fine. Then why’d you need us?” Casey said.

“Yeah, why us?” Quinton asked.

Gerry lit a cigarette and offered them around. Sam shook her off. He could barely breathe as it was.

“I needed partners. It would’ve been too obvious if it was just me. It’s misdirection. You guys are tough and smart and know how to handle yourselves. That’s what I needed.”

They couldn’t help but take it as a compliment.

“That messed up, Sam,” Quinton said. “Supremely.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” He was catching his breath finally.

“So everything that’s happened has been planned up to this point,” Casey asked. He wanted to make sure he understood.

“Pretty much. I had to option out of some plans a couple of times, but yeah, pretty much,” Sam said.

Casey and Quinton sat with the new information for a few moments. Gerry focused on her cigarette, the gun still in her hand just in case.

“And now?” Quinton said.

“What do you mean?”

“What happens now?”

“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”

“What’s to figure out?” Casey asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Sam, whether you want to admit it or not, we’re good at this shit,” Quinton said. “You’ve got some fucked up reasons, but we’ve made some good money so far and there’s no reason for that to stop. Especially now that we know who you are.”

He smiled at Casey.

“What do you mean?” Gerry asked.

“I mean, we know who you are. We know who your grandpa, Saul Augustine, is,” Casey said. “More importantly, Grandpa Saul wants to know who you are. And we can arrange that, should things not go the way we want.”

“Guys…,” Sam said.

“It’s okay, Sam,” Quinton said. “Nothing’s gonna change. We’re gonna keep doing what we’ve been doing. Only, you work for us now. Not the other way around.”

“That’s not what I wanted,” Sam said.

“But that’s how it is now,” Casey said. “I understand you probably don’t get told no a lot with the big house and nice car and all the other bullshit. But if something were to change so that Quinton and I were no longer allowed to live the lifestyle we’ve gotten used to, we could probably find our way to a payphone and drop an anonymous tip on the infamous bank robber who’s been terrorizing Manhattan and one of NYPD’s own.”

Sam looked at them both, looking for a hint they were kidding, that this was just a bad dream and he was going to wake up any time now. But it wasn’t. He was caught. They’d planned this out perfectly and he was helpless. He’d be impressed if he wasn’t so royally screwed. He looked at Gerry for help, but she just shrugged and shook her head. It is what it is, kid, she seemed to say.

“Whaddya say, Sammy?” Quinton said with a smile.

“Guys, I can’t just keep—” he was interrupted by a hard knock on the front door.

They all snapped their heads around and waited. Another hard knock.

“You two get in the office over there and keep your mouths shut,” Gerry said, taking charge. Quinton and Casey hesitated. “Now,” she hissed.

They jumped up and headed for the office door.

“Don’t try anything funny. Remember, we know who you are, Augustine,” Quinton said as they disappeared into Simon’s office.

Sam swallowed hard and made his way with Gerry to the front door.

“What are we gonna do?” he asked.

“I don’t know yet. Let’s figure this out and then we can figure that out,” she said, pointing toward the front door and then the office. Another hard knock, prolonged this time.

Sam finally got to the front door and took a deep, painful breath. The door creaked open.

“Hey, Sam. Long time, no talk to,” Saul said with a smile.