The Last Collection (5 page)

Hankleman sat down.

“So you said las night dat you tot dat I could maybe help you wid a liddle problem dat you got,” the Hawk said.

“That's right,” Hankleman said, nodding vigorously.

“So what's de problem?”

”There's a guy that owes me some money.”

“Yeah . . . so?”

“Well, he won't pay up.”

“Yeah . . . so?”

“Well, I want what he owes me.”

“Yeah . . . so?”

Hankleman looked nervously at the Hawk. “Well, so I need someone to collect it.”

“How come?” Solly asked, his face showing no expression.

“How come? Because he won't pay up.”

“So why dontcha sue em?”

“Sue him?”

“Yeah, sue em. If somebody owes you money, you sue em. Right?”

“Well . . . normally yes; but in this case I can't.”

“Why not?”

“Well . . . you see . . .”

“Look, what's de story? Are you a shylock?”

“Well, sort of.”

“What sort of? Eidder you're a shylock or you're not a shylock. So whad is it?”

“Yes, I guess you could call me that. Yes. Yes, I am. I mean, I just started off in the business.”

“Okay, so you lent a mooch money an he don wanna pay up. Is dat right?”

“That's right. Artie Kerner. That's his name.”

“How much does he owe?”

“Approximately thirteen thousand dollars.”

The Hawk smiled inwardly. It was a nice amount.

“So how come he won't pay?”

“I don't know. He says he's good for the money but he needs more time. He was supposed to pay me back a month ago.”

“How much interest are you charging dis guy?”

“Well . . . that's sort of personal . . . I mean.”

“Throw him out,” Big Moishie grunted suddenly without bothering to look up.

Solly raised his hand as though to calm his partner. “Mr. Mandelberg is very sensitive about being trusted by everyone who we take on a job for,” the Hawk said quietly.

“So Mr. Weisskopf asked you a question. What rate of interest did you charge this Kerner?” Big Moishie said gruffly.

“Twenty percent a month,” Hankleman said grudgingly.

“Five points a week. So he was paying you like aroun five hunnert a week vigorish?”

“No. It was a closed-end type of deal. I loaned him $9,000.00. After thirty days he was supposed to pay me back $11,000.00. But he said he didn't have it. Now it's almost two months, so he owes me about $13,000.00.”

“He didn't offer ta give you nutting?”

“No. He's trying to burn me. I know it. When he first came to me, he told me that he had just made a big loan from the bank and that they wouldn't extend him any more credit. He has a small chemical business that he started a few years ago. He told me he made the bank loan to enlarge his warehouse but he needed a little extra which the banks wouldn't give him. I believed him. I checked him out. On paper he looked good. I got a credit report on him from Canada Investors. They said he was solvent; that he had a going concern. It looks like he paid someone off there to give him a good rating because, a little later, I found out he was in big trouble. Right now I hear he's on the verge of bankruptcy. For all I know, he's getting ready to blow town. I wouldn't put it past him.”

“If you were smart, you would have had him pay you interest each week,” Big Moishie said matter-of-factly.

“Yes. Yes. I know,” Hankleman replied.

“So why dontcha do dat now?” the Hawk asked. “Let em start paying you five, six hunnert a week.”

“No, I just want the whole thing right away.”

“Maybe take a piece of his business,” the Hawk suggested.

“No, he wouldn't go for that. And besides, like I said, it's not worth anything anyway. He's probably going to fail. I just want all that he owes me right away. I know he can come up with it.”

“How do you know?” Big Moishie asked.

“I know the type of person he is. He's got money stashed somewhere. He's just trying to burn me.”

“You tink he was planning ta bail out even when he made de loan from you?”

“To bail out?” Hankleman said.

“To go bankrupt.”

“Oh, I don't know. Probably. I heard that at one time he had a good business. Now all of a sudden it's supposed to be worth nothing. So he must have been pulling a lot of money out.”

“In my experience, Mr. Hankleman, de kine of person what goes to a shylock does not go to him wid de idea of shafting him.”

“I'm not saying he initially planned to rip me off. I'm just saying that he's trying to do that now.”

“Does he gamble, dis Kerner?”

“I don't know. I hear he's something of a playboy.”

“He goes for de broads, eh?”

“That's what I heard but I don't know for certain.”

“Has he got a family or something here?” the Hawk asked.

“Not as far as I know. You can be sure if he had any family I would have gone to them and put the pressure on them. I would have threatened the ass off this Kerner through his family if he had one.”

The Hawk shrugged. He knew if he glanced over at Big Moishie he would find that he was steaming. It was an unwritten but well-understood rule that they never involved a debtor's family in any of their collections. They would never try and get to a man through his family even if he was the most vicious bastard.

“You know dat we usually only do our own collecting, Mr. Hankleman,” the Hawk said.

“Well, I heard that you sometimes did some free-lance work.”

“Yeah, I used t'do a liddle but lately nutting much. I'm not so young like I used to be. Anyway, whadda ya need somebody like me. You could get a couple of boys ta do what you need.”

“No, I need someone who knows what he's doing. I can't afford any flack, if you know what I mean.”

“What do you mean?” Big Moishie asked gruffly.

“Just what I said. I need someone who can collect my money efficiently,” Hankleman said, turning towards Moishie Mandelberg.

“Just for the record, Mr. Hankleman, I want you to know beforehand that, in spite of anything you may have heard, we don't lay a finger on anyone.”

“Of course. Of course. I understand,” Hankleman said quickly to Big Moishie.

Solly could see the slightest suggestion of a knowing smirk at a corner of Morrie Hankleman's mouth.

“That's why I wanted Mr. Weisskopf to do this job.” Hankleman turned back to face the Hawk. “I heard that if anyone could collect without causing any waves, it was you.”

Solly the Hawk just stared at Morrie Hankleman.

“Look, I just started in this business,” Hankleman said, a slight whine in his voice. “I've got to collect this fast, otherwise the word might get around that I was taken. Then I'll be finished before I even started. I can kiss my ass goodbye in this business.”

For a long moment the Hawk just stared at Hankleman who fidgeted slightly in his seat. The Hawk glanced over at his partner who looked away, picked up the phone and began dialing.

Solly looked back at Hankleman. “Okay, I'll take dis ting on. My fee is turdy-five percent of whatever I collec from de mooch.”

“Thirty-five percent!” Hankleman gasped. “That's almost $5,000.00!”

“Throw him out,” Big Moishie suddenly muttered, slamming the receiver down.

“Wait . . . wait. Take it easy,” Morrie Hankleman said loudly, raising a conciliatory hand. “Look, I'm new to this game. All right, I accept those terms. It's a deal. It's better than nothing, I guess.”

“Better than nothing!” Big Moishie shouted, jumping out of his seat. “Don't do us any favours, my friend. I don't need you here to insult us.”

“Who's insulting? Look, all I meant was . . .”

Big Moishie cut him off. “You go after this Kerner yourself and you'll end up with a pile of dreck in your hand.” He sat down slowly.

“Look. Look, I'm sorry. I didn't intend to insult anyone here. It's just that it's a lot of money,” Hankleman said, attempting to sound contrite.

“It's a lot of money, but $13,000.00 is even more, so if you think thirty-five percent is too much, the door is over there” Big Moishie said, pointing behind Hankleman.

“Look, I apologize. It's a deal,” Hankleman said.

“Outside you'll find lots of hooligans,” Big Moishie continued. “For fifty bucks apiece they'll do whatever you tell them. You want a head broken, they'll break you a head; you want an arm broken, they'll break you an arm; you want two, they'll break you two. But I don't have to tell you what will happen to your money. If you're lucky and they don't kill him, maybe, just maybe, you'll get something back. But the chances are you'll end up talking with the police and you'll be up shits creek without a paddle. Solly Weisskopf is an artist, my friend. The Picasso of this business, for your information. You should be thankful it's only costing you thirty-five percent.”

The Hawk raised a hand as though to pacify his partner whose face was now puffed to twice its normal size. Big Moishie calmed down and continued talking in a more tempered voice.

“To collect money in this business takes brains, not brawn, Mr. Hankleman. This is what separates the men from the boys, the artist from the journeyman, the Hawk from the shleppers.” The big man sank back in his seat.

“Look, I apologize. I didn't mean to offend anyone. I understand what you're saying. That's why I came to you. I know you're the best. That's why I'm here. Thirty-five percent is great. I'm sorry if I . . .”

“Don't worry about it,” the Hawk said with a wave. “We'll take it on. But deres like a few conditions dat we have.”

“Sure. Sure. You name it,” Hankleman said eagerly.

“Number one. We got turdy days to deliver de goods. Of course, dats wid de unnerstanning dat if it should take dat long den we get dis guy Kerner ta come up wid an extra amount equal to de twenny percent interest.”

“That's fine with me,” Hankleman said, nodding.

“I mean, who knows. Maybe I'll be able ta deliver like in a week, but in any case I need turdy days maximum. Okay?”

“Sure. Sure. That's fine.”

“Number two. From dis minute on you gotta have nutting ta do wid dis guy. You jus like lay off. Don call em; don talk to em. Don send em no letters. Okay?”

“Sure,” Hankleman replied. “I'll leave it entirely in your hands.”

“Dats good,” the Hawk said. “So we got a deal here. We don't need no papers. Our word is our agreement.”

“We don't even have to shake hands on it,” Big Moishie said.

“Right,” the Hawk added, remembering Hankleman's hands. “We don even gotta shake hands.”

“That's all fine with me,” Hankleman said, smiling.

“Now have you got anyting like a file on dis Kerner guy?”

“Yes, I have a file on him. It's nothing much.”

“Send it over to me. It could give me a liddle edge to make tings easier. Ya never know.”

“Sure, I'll send it over.”

“Once I know a liddle bit more about dis guy, I'll like pay em a liddle visit an have like a liddle talk wid em. I can't promise you nutting but usually I deliver.”

“That's great, Mr. Weisskopf. Thank you. Thank you very much.”

Morrie Hankleman stood up and extended his hand to Solly. The Hawk winced as he took the wet, sticky hand in his own. Hankleman released Solly's hand and started towards Moishie Mandelberg's desk with the same sticky, wet hand extended, but Big Moishie had already pretended to have dropped something on the floor and was now hunched below the desk as though searching for it.

“We'll be speaking to you, Mr. Hankleman,” Big Moishie said, showing no inclination to come out of hiding.

“Yes. Well, thank you, and I'll wait for your call.”

Hankleman turned and went out. Solly wiped his hand on his pants' leg.

“He got you, eh?” Big Moishie said with a laugh as he lifted himself back into his seat.

“I couldn't get away,” the Hawk said with a chuckle.

“We should each keep a fake hand in the office for when he comes around. Every time he comes we slip the fake hand up our sleeve and let him grab it.”

Big Moishie began to laugh and the Hawk joined him. After a moment the big man grew serious.

“I don't like that guy and I don't trust him.”

“Nutting to worry,” Solly the Hawk said.

“He's a mooch. I smelled him out the minute I saw him at the party last night.”

“Nutting to worry,” the Hawk replied. “It could be like a very easy five gees.”

“Just be careful when you talk with him again, and make sure to find out the whole story about this Kerner.”

“Don worry. I'll check him out careful like.”

“Yes. Be careful.”

“You know I'm always careful.”

“This time be extra careful. I just don't like this deal. I don't know why. I just don't.”

“Nutting to worry,” the Hawk said laconically. “Nutting to worry.”

Chapter Five

W
hen Solly the Hawk said there was nothing to worry about, he meant it, and the one person who knew to take him at his word was Big Moishie Mandelberg.

They had been partners for twenty-two years. Moishie had started things off when he had parlayed a fifty-dollar bet at the track into a fifteen-hundred-dollar stake. He decided to put the money out on the streets. Within a few months, he had a going concern dealing mostly with compulsive gamblers, small-time hoods and frappers. A few years later, he hired Solly as a collector on a commission basis. The Hawk was so effective in carrying out his responsibilities that they soon formed a partnership. However, it was not only the Hawk's abilities as a collector that appealed to Big Moishie, it was also his talents as a thinker. In fact, Moishie knew that Solly's success was due more to his intelligence than his muscle.