Tony Scram - Mafia Wheelman by Phil Rossi - HTML preview

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 19.

 

A cab stand on the Jersey side of the George. Royal blue, black and white checkered pin stripes. G.W. Taxi. Ex cop cars, converted into metered shuttles. Busy dispatchers barked locations over two-ways, launching drivers into the New Jersey night.

A rally of cabs pitted the stand, snout to tail. Down time.

Sandwiches, newspapers, paperbacks. Coffee, talk radio, and smokes. Tony took a job with a New Jersey taxi team. Nothing perked just yet.

Eddie Bones busted through, crashing the party. He brought Whitey. They prowled the line-up. Down the line, Tony worked a crossword puzzle.

"Hey buddy, I'm lookin for the best driver in town--wonderin'

if you could help me out," Bones in Scram’s window. Tony looked up. Guarded, but cool. Bones and Whitey slid into the back seat.

"I'm sorry about your wife, Tony. I heard about it when I was away," Bones said. "I took this job to get away from her. Now that she's gone, I drive to keep my mind off a things."

"How are you with money?" Bones asked.

"Not bad. I'm stashin' some bread to break out--and that's what I'm lookin' to do."

"How is out there--been workin'?"

"A few scores, here and there. You know how it goes. But it adds up." Bones baited the deal. The target. The take. Rocket all involved, into deep pace. The job calls for a wheel man. Tony, in thought, "That's a big job. I gotta think about it. One more pinch, I'm not comin' out."

"Get in line", Bones spun towards Whitey. They all laughed.

"You haven't changed."

"You gotta be a salesman in this business." Tony sobered, intense and reflective.

"I'm lookin' for a score. One last ride for the books. Once I make it, I'm gone. But it's gotta be right."

"Trust me, Tony--after this job, you won't have to worry about money ever again," Whitey said.

They talked time frames. They talked figures. No mention of flat fees. If Tony wanted in, he was in. This thing was going down, with an even split. All for one, one for all. An old school heist. A federal crime, federal time. More old school. Tony still wasn’t sold.

He had to dance with it.

"Give it a few days. Think about it, and get back to me,"

Bones said.