Hearts in Atlantis(46)

They crossed a canal bridge, and down there was back there. Now they were in the part of the city Bobby had travelled with his mother. The men on the street wore coats and ties. The women wore hose instead of bobbysocks. None of them looked like Alanna Files, and Bobby didn't think many of them would smell of liquor if they went 'Shhh,' either. Not at four o'clock in the afternoon.

'I know why you didn't bet on Patterson-Johansson,' Bobby said. 'It's because you don't know who'll win.'

'I think Patterson will this time,' Ted said, 'because this time he's prepared for Johansson. I might flutter two dollars on Floyd Patterson, but five hundred? To bet five hundred you must either know or be crazy.'

'The Albini-Haywood fight is fixed, isn't it?'

Ted nodded. 'I knew when you read that Kleindienst was involved, and I guessed that Albini was supposed to win.'

'You've made other bets on boxing matches where Mr Kleindienst was a manager.'

Ted said nothing for a moment, only looked out the window. On the radio, someone hit a comebacker to Whitey Ford. Ford fielded the ball and threw to Moose Skowron at first. Now there were two down in the top of the eighth. At last Ted said, 'It could have been Haywood. It wasn't likely, but it could have been. Then . . . did you see the old man back there? The one in the shoeshine chair?'

'Sure, you patted him on the cheeks.'

'That's Arthur Girardi. Files lets him hang around because he used to be connected. That's what Files thinks - used to be. Now he's just some old fellow who comes in to get his shoes shined at ten and then forgets and comes in to get them shined again at three. Files thinks he's just an old fellow who don't know from nothing, as they say. Girardi lets him think whatever he wants to think. If Files said the moon was green cheese, Girardi wouldn't say boo. Old Gee, he comes in for the air conditioning. And he's still connected.'

'Connected to Jimmy Gee.'

'To all sorts of guys.'

'Mr Files didn't know the fight was fixed?'

'No, not for sure. I thought he would.'

'But old Gee knew. And he knew which one's supposed to take the dive.'

'Yes. That was my luck. Hurricane Haywood goes down in the eighth round. Then, next year when the odds are better, the Hurricane gets his payday.'

'Would you have bet if Mr Girardi hadn't been there?'

'No,' Ted replied immediately.

'Then what would you have done for money? When you go away?'

Ted looked depressed at those words - When you go away. He made as if to put an arm around Bobby's shoulders, then stopped himself.

'There's always someone who knows something,' he said.

They were on Asher Avenue now, still in Bridgeport but only a mile or so from the Harwich town line. Knowing what would happen, Bobby reached for Ted's big, nicotine-stained hand.

Ted swivelled his knees toward the door, taking his hands with them. 'Better not.'

Bobby didn't need to ask why. People put up signs that said WET PAINT DO NOT TOUCH because if you put your hand on something newly painted, the stuff would get on your skin. You could wash it off, or it would wear off by itself in time, but for awhile it would be there.

'Where will you go?'

'I don't know.'

'I feel bad,' Bobby said. He could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. 'If something happens to you, it's my fault. I saw things, the things you told me to look out for, but I didn't say anything. I didn't want you to go. So I told myself you were crazy - not about everything, just about the low men you thought were chasing you - and I didn't say anything. You gave me a job and I muffed it.'

Ted's arm rose again. He lowered it and settled for giving Bobby a quick pat on the leg instead. At Yankee Stadium Tony Kubek had just doubled home two runs. The crowd was going wild.

'But I knew,' Ted said mildly.

Bobby stared at him. 'What? I don't get you.'

'I felt them getting closer. That's why my trances have grown so frequent. Yet I lied to myself, just as you did. For the same reasons, too. Do you think I want to leave you now, Bobby? When your mother is so confused and unhappy? In all honesty I don't care so much for her sake, we don't get along, from the first second we laid eyes on each other we didn't get along, but she is your mother, and - '

'What's wrong with her?' Bobby asked. He remembered to keep his voice low, but he took Ted's arm and shook it. 'Tell me! You know, I know you do! Is it Mr Biderman? Is it something about Mr Biderman?'

Ted looked out the window, brow furrowed, lips drawn down tightly. At last he sighed, pulled out his cigarettes, and lit one. 'Bobby,' he said, 'Mr Biderman is not a nice man. Your mother knows it, but she also knows that sometimes we have to go along with people who are not nice. Go along to get along, she thinks, and she has done this. She's done things over the last year that she's not proud of, but she has been careful. In some ways she has needed to be as careful as I have, and whether I like her or not, I admire her for that.'

'What did she do? What did he make her do?' Something cold moved in Bobby's chest. 'Why did Mr Biderman take her to Providence?'

'For the real-estate conference.'

'Is that all? Is that all?'