The Pope of Greenwich Village Page #5

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if you don't know where I'm going, huh?

It's a mistake, Charlie.

You're making a mistake.

This is it.

What do you guys think?

- What do you think?

- What do you mean, what do we think?

Top floor's a tough spot.

We gotta go by that like cats.

- Cats.

- Wait here.

What do you think, Charlie?

- I think he's a f***ing mope.

- F***ing mope.

But he's careful.

You know, he seems to be prepared.

Prepared, yeah.

What do you think?

I think he's prepared. Absolutely.

No, what do you think?

What do I think?

Of what? An alley? Come on.

Okay, let's move it. Come on.

- What is this for? What is this for?

- Don't worry about it.

Make 'em look light and walk

into the place like we own the joint.

What the hell is in these, Barney?

Tools, nice Genoa salami,

a couple of Thermoses of coffee.

- He's got an appetite.

- Come on, Paulie, just walk.

Three hours in there, you'll be starved.

I'm busting my balls, really.

Okay, you take this.

Ma, do I have a clean T-shirt?

Yeah, it's on

the kitchen chair someplace.

You know, uh... Trusty Dream?

It's a four-year-old filly.

No.

She's in the third at Aqueduct.

Six furlongs.

One-eleven in her last time out.

She must be a nice little place bet.

I like this horse.

Want me to put your game show on, Ma?

Nah, leave it alone.

I can't even think with those a**holes

jumping up and down and screaming.

Do I have a clean handkerchief, Ma?

It's in the drawer.

I like your haircut, sonny.

Glad I talked you into it.

At least go to the filters, huh, Ma?

And those highballs,

they ain't doing you any good either.

A little whisky is good for the system.

And it's not the cigarettes

that give me the heart attack.

It's 37 years...

scrubbing floors on my hands and knees

for those rich sons-of-b*tches

on Park Avenue.

Do you remember hauling garbage

after dinner every night of your life?

Pulling on dumbwaiter ropes?

I know. Your right arm is bigger.

Yeah, twice as big as my left.

Pulling dumbwaiter ropes

up five-storey buildings.

Look, it'll protect you

from the muggers when I'm gone.

Aw, Ma, one more year.

One more year, Ma,

and I'll have my 20 in,

and we'll head to Phoenix.

Clean air, sunshine.

I'll even teach you

to play a little golf.

With that dumbwaiter arm of yours,

you'll drive the ball a mile.

And what will you do, Walter?

Liquor store.

Big house, hacienda style.

And I'm even gonna

have a little dumbwaiter put in

just to keep that arm of yours in shape.

And all this on a second-class

detective's pension?

I got a little put away, Ma.

That what your little recorder's for?

Keep track of your savings?

It's just a little

personal protection, Ma.

In case things go sour.

I mean, this little box...

well, it gives me a hand to play with,

you know what I mean?

If things go sour, Walter...

I got nobody left.

I know, Ma.

Oh, get outta here.

Come on. Lock the door, huh?

Yeah, yeah. Go on.

No, no, no. On your stomach.

I look down, I'll freeze here

for a f***ing week, man.

Oh.

- Come on.

- I don't work this high without a net.

- It's your idea, this whole thing.

- Oh, God.

All right, Charlie.

- Go ahead.

- Why me, man?

Why you? You're the monkey. You go. Go.

Hold me, Charlie. Hold me, man.

It's a tin can all dressed up.

Good for fires.

Got a couple of broads

tucked in here, Barney?

Cover the front, huh, Paulie?

Cover the front.

Barney.

- It must be the phone.

- Paulie, give me a break, all right?

Give me a f***ing break.

Barney, what is that?

Could be anything.

- Could be a wrong number.

- Absolutely.

There'll be 150 large there.

Make your usual pick-up

in your usual place.

That's all that counts now.

That was Bed Bug Eddie Grant.

It's September 21st.

11:
25 PM.

Heading for my monthly pick-up

on West Street.

From there to Queens Village

to deliver the money

to Inspector Ed Burns,

whose voice will be

on this tape later on.

Hope to be erasing this in Phoenix

in about a year.

Did you ever see those big S&M fags?

They go into old buildings like this.

Charlie, that's somebody's personal

paper you're reading there, man.

Big mothers, too.

All dressed in leather and sh*t.

These S&M fags get so carried away,

they beat each other up and whatnot...

Will you please shut your mouth? You're

starting to sound like half a fag.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Hey, man, somebody's coming!

Somebody's coming. Somebody's coming.

Somebody's coming.

Get out of sight. Grab the cases, fast!

Come on, Paulie.

- How many?

- One guy.

- Cop?

- No, no, just a guy.

One of the bosses probably

forgot something.

If he comes in here, let me handle it.

- We'll bluff our way through.

- Charlie, I gotta take a leak, man.

Shh. Be quiet.

Oh, f***. The rope ladder.

Freeze! Freeze or I'll blow you away!

Sh*t.

- Oh, man.

- Barney, he's not moving.

What are we standing here for?

Let's get the hell outta here, Charlie.

If he's breathing,

our best bet is to get outta here fast

and call an ambulance,

crawl out from under a murder rap.

Murder rap?! Nobody came

within 20 feet of that yo-yo.

He dived into that hole

like a f***ing gopher!

If somebody dies during a crime,

it's murder, end of story.

Barney, it's a dead cop down there.

- Aw, man.

- A cop? Sh*t.

You got a lot of explaining

to do now, Paulie.

What?

Hey, Barney,

what the f*** are you doing?

- I'm a couple of seconds...

- No!

It ain't gonna change the rap

one way or the other.

No!

Charlie, I ain't leaving this joint

with nothing in my kick after all this!

I don't...

What the hell

is a plainclothes cop doing

wandering around in here after midnight?

- Sh*t, I don't know.

- You don't know? Hey, you bastard!

You know. You know!

Guaranteed it, you know, Paulie.

You know, you piece of sh*t.

Charlie, maybe he wasn't

even a real cop, man.

Man, there must be 100 phony cops

wandering around out there,

shaking people down and whatnot.

Charlie, Charlie.

- Charlie.

- Get off me, Paulie.

Jesus, the kid was right.

There's a hell of a lot of money here.

- The f***ing lottery, Charlie!

- The f***ing lottery?

Paulie, there's a dead cop down there!

What are you talking about?

You screwed us.

You screwed us. You screwed me, man.

I didn't screw you, Charlie.

He knows. Guaranteed, he knows.

And you're gonna tell me.

There is nothing to tell, Charlie.

Nothing to tell, huh?

You're full of sh*t, Paulie.

And you're so busy acting stupid,

that you got us on FDR Drive

with commercial plates,

thank you very much.

You shoulda let me drive, Barney.

- Charlie.

- Paulie, shut up.

I gotta take a leak, man.

Charlie... I gotta take a leak, man.

Jesus Christ.

You know, he's got a bum bladder

ever since he was a kid.

Charlie, whatever your beef is with him,

you gotta forget it now.

We gotta find out

what the score is here.

Ooh, man.

Yeah, I know, I'm doing it wrong.

With him, you gotta be calm, right?

Yeah.

Charlie, what are you doing? Barney,

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