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Jan. 25th, 2016 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
meyerlanskyThe worst of it was, AR’s machine worked perfectly.
No sooner had the word broke in Manhattan before his boys had sprung into action; making calls to Mayor Walker and books disappear from offices and homes before the cops had even thought to look. If Carolyn knew that someone was raiding her house, she made no note of it- too busy waging her private war with Inez and the family to notice that AR’s princes were quietly taking his place. And he wasn’t even cold yet.
No, Meyer corrected himself and immediately hated himself for it- Rothstein wasn’t dead yet. Despite what the doctors said, what the underworld said… and…
Benny had found Hump, hiding out with the Dutchman in Harlem and it was only Charlie’s hand holding Meyer back that had kept him from the car.
He felt guilty afterwards too, for looking at Charlie and telling him it wasn’t his call. This was their thing… Charlie had looked at him like he was stupid and told him to go home.
He hadn’t.
Instead, Meyer had made his way to downtown, to Bobby’s old apartment. It was quiet now, with Bobbie dead and gone but Rothstein had kept it. It’s where he hid his heroin and whatever other secrets he thought he was hiding from him and Charlie. Fucking predictable. Hardly worthy of …what exactly?
Rothstein was no king. He was just a man. Nowhere had that been more true than here and now.
It’s there Meyer made the call.
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Date: 2016-01-26 03:07 am (UTC)Eric was in the middle of a thoroughly enjoyable ballet dancer. Normally he wasn't one for leftovers but when Pamela had offered him one of her troupe, he'd chosen the sweetest little doe eyed thing and was feeding from her languidly. One always had to be careful with dancers they tended to be underfed and stringy but his ballerina was heady and tasted of sweat and tulle.
When the phone rang he ignored the first few rings long enough to compel the girl to clean herself up, eat a decent meal and wait for him with the others and most importantly not drip all over his suite.
"Yes?" He wiped a stray trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and sucked on his finger. Each drop delicious.
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Date: 2016-01-26 03:33 am (UTC)He'd been been eighteen, maybe nineteen, when Rothstein took him on the train to Albany with two million in a suitcase and the most promising Jazz singer uptown had produced in a decade. He remembered AR had been uncharacteristically animated with the boy on the trip up. He stayed up all night with the kid too, making all sorts of promises to him to introduce him to this director and that theater owner. Kid had believed him too, because why not?
The Bankroll could promise you the world and deliver on it.
It wasn't until the meeting with Francois was over, and Meyer was watching the boy's corpse and the suitcase pulled into the backroom as someone might discard a soiled carpet did he understand. And he remembered he had asked Rothstein afterwards, What the hell was that? What did I just see?
Arnold had looked up, pale and shaking with the blood still on his face and only patted his shoulder.
"I'm a friend of Arnold Rothstein's, I don't know if you remember me."
Friend. Not associate. Not partner. Might as well lead with he wanted something. "But I'm sure you've read the paper recently. I was wondering if we could meet."
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Date: 2016-01-26 03:39 am (UTC)"Of course I remember. AR speaks very highly of you and your associate Mr Luciano." He never forgets faces as young and hungry as Meyer Lansky or Charlie Luciano. Almost always his conversations with AR managed to touch on the pair in some capacity even if just a mention in passing.
"How is he?" Eric checked the clock on the night table. Dawn was still a few hours away. "Yes, I can come to you if you like but time is a factor so sooner would be better than later."
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Date: 2016-01-26 04:08 am (UTC)Meyer mulled over the question for a fraction too long before squaring his shoulders. He knew what he was doing here- at least partially or he told himself he did. Besides, he could worry about the fall out after.
First he had to fix this. "Doctors give him til morning...cops, less so."
Another pause, as Meyer reached for the bottle of champagne Rothstein had left during some prior escape. It tasted flat and rancid. "...Rothstein said once gunshots don't hurt you- is it true? I mean...that you can fix things like this."
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Date: 2016-01-26 04:28 am (UTC)Eric straightened up. He'd known that AR was injured but he hadn't known it was life threatening. Mentally he kicked himself. It's been too long since AR had any of his blood so he hadn't been able to feel AR's distress as strongly as he would have if the blood bond were stronger.
He weighs his next words carefully. "Yes, he told you the truth. It's not something widely known and I prefer to keep it that way - but like I said AR holds you in high regard and I trust his judgment. What hospital is he in?"
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Date: 2016-01-26 05:17 am (UTC)"Of course not, Mr. Northman..." Meyer's quick to recover, and ashamed to admit he feels a little relieved. "Polyclinic. I can make some calls- if you prefer privacy?"
Then, almost as an afterthought. "...I'm in your debt. If there's anything you need?"
What are you going to do?
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Date: 2016-01-26 05:49 am (UTC)"You should know, that if I am able to help him, there's a chance we'll need to disappear for a time. He won't be able to just return to his old life business as usual, and depending on how he adapts - you may not see him again for years...if ever."
He began changing out of his bloody clothes and into clean ones as he talks, moving around the room. "I assume that you and your other associates are capable of making it so that the world believes him to be dead?"