CHAPTER 5
Showdown and Shoot-Out
1
In a blues tune from the twenties Billie Holiday, who would one day discover the truth for herself, sang: “Doctor tole me daughter you got to quit it fast/Because one more rocket gonna be your last.” Henry Dean’s last rocket went up just five minutes before the van pulled up in front of The Leaning Tower and his brother was herded inside.
Because he was on Henry’s right, George Biondi—known to his friends as “Big George” and to his enemies as “Big Nose”—asked Henry’s questions. Now, as Henry sat nodding and blinking owlishly over the board, Tricks Postino put the die in a hand which had already gone the dusty color that results in the extremities after long-term heroin addiction, the dusty color which is the precursor of gangrene.
“Your turn, Henry,” Tricks said, and Henry let the die fall from his hand.
When he went on staring into space and showed no intention of moving his game piece, Jimmy Haspio moved it for him. “Look at this, Henry,” he said. “You got a chance to score a piece of the pie.”
“Reese’s Pieces,” Henry said dreamily, and then looked around, as if awakening. “Where’s Eddie?”
“He’ll be here pretty soon,” Tricks soothed him. “Just play the game.”
“How about a fix?”
“Play the game, Henry.”
“Okay, okay, stop leaning on me.”
“Don’t lean on him,” Kevin Blake said to Jimmy.
“Okay, I won’t,” Jimmy said.
“You ready?” George Biondi said, and gave the others an enormous wink as Henry’s chin floated down to his breastbone and then slowly rose once more—it was like watching a soaked log not quite ready to give in and sink for good.
“Yeah,” Henry said. “Bring it on.”
“Bring it on!” Jimmy Haspio cried happily.
“You bring that fucker!” Tricks agreed, and they all roared with laughter （in the other room Balazar’s edifice, now three levels high, trembled again, but did not fall）。
“Okay, listen close,” George said, and winked again. Although Henry was on a Sports category, George announced the category was Arts and Entertainment. “What popular country and western singer had hits with ‘A Boy Named Sue,’ ‘Folsom Prison Blues,’ and numerous other shitkicking songs?”
Kevin Blake, who actually could add seven and nine （if you gave him poker chips to do it with）， howled with laughter, clutching his knees and nearly upsetting the board.
Still pretending to scan the card in his hand, George continued: “This popular singer is also known as The Man in Black. His first name means the same as a place you go to take a piss and his last name means what you got in your wallet unless you’re a fucking needle freak.”
There was a long expectant silence.
“Walter Brennan,” Henry said at last.
Bellows of laughter. Jimmy Haspio clutched Kevin Blake. Kevin punched Jimmy in the shoulder repeatedly. In Balazar’s office, the house of cards which was now becoming a tower of cards trembled again.
“Quiet down!” ’Cimi yelled. “Da Boss is buildin!”
They quieted at once.
“Right,” George said. “You got that one right, Henry. It was a toughie, but you came through.”
“Always do,” Henry said. “Always come through in the fuckin clutch. How about a fix?”
“Good idea!” George said, and took a Roi-Tan cigar box from behind him. From it he produced a hypo. He stuck it into the scarred vein above Henry’s elbow, and Henry’s last rocket took off.