“And compensation. Within a week, five thousand dollars to the men whose stalls burned. You’ll send it through Steve.”
“That’s too much.” “Not up for discussion. Money or your life.” Arthur agreed.
Michael stood, put away the knife, and headed for the door. At the threshold he turned back. “If you try to play me, I’ll be back, and next time I finish it.”
He left the apartment, took the stairs down, and got out of the building unseen. On the walk home he felt relief and unease at the same time. He had avoided bloodshed, but he had crossed a lot of lines.
If Arthur complained to Rostov, there could still be trouble. In the morning Steve called. “Mike, they didn’t come.”
“First time in a year and a half nobody’s asked for money.” Gus, Tank, and Lenny vanished. Nobody had seen them since the night before.
“People are saying Arthur told them to disappear for a while.” Michael exhaled. It had worked.
“Within a week you’ll get compensation for the burned stalls. Five thousand dollars.” “Where’s that money coming from?”
“Let’s just say I had a conversation with the right person.” Steve was quiet for a second. “Thank you, Mike. From all of us.”
The next three days were calm. Arthur’s people stayed away. The vendors started rebuilding.
Smiles came back to people’s faces. On the fourth day a stranger came to Steve with a package of cash. “From Arthur. Apologies for the inconvenience.”
“Exactly five thousand.” Steve divided it among the men who’d lost their stalls. Walter came back from out of town.
Nick decided not to sell the auto shop after all. Life was beginning to return to normal. On the fifth evening George called.
“Got news. Tony Baton says Rostov got the material and was furious. He gave orders to deal with Arthur.”
“What does that mean?” “It means Arthur is finished. Nobody in that world will do business with him.”
“He’s basically a dead man in their circles.” Michael felt the tension of the past days finally start to drain away. “One more thing,” George added. “Rostov said he respects the man who gathered the proof.”
“Said men like that are useful when it comes to keeping order.” Coming from a man like Rostov, that was high praise. “Also,” George continued, “Arthur’s packing in a hurry.”
“Leaving the region for good. Gus ran off to his father’s place in another state. Tank got a security job on a construction site.”
“Lenny’s disappeared completely. The three of them are done. Their little operation is over.”
“And what about Gus’s uncle in the department?” “Internal review already started. Good chance he loses his position.”
Michael hung up and sat quietly for a long time. The plan had worked all the way through. Arthur had lost both his protection and his reputation.
The neighborhood was free. A week after Arthur left the region, life there really did begin to improve.
People slowly got used to the idea that they could work in peace, without fear and without waiting for the next disaster. The market was running normally again. Vendors rebuilt their stalls and restocked their goods.
More customers started coming because prices dropped a little. Vendors no longer had to build extortion money into the cost of what they sold. The whole atmosphere changed, and everybody who came through could feel it.
Steve opened a second produce table, selling not just potatoes but other vegetables from local farms. Business got good enough that he hired a young helper from a nearby building, a kid who had been scraping by on odd jobs. Walter, the meat vendor who had hidden out with relatives during the worst of it, came back and reopened his stand.
He made a deal with a farmer for fresh meat at a fair price. His counter became the most popular one in the market. People lined up early, and for the first time in a long while Walter smiled at customers.
Pete, whose stall had burned in the fire, used his share of the compensation to buy new inventory. He even expanded, adding homemade pickles and jam his wife made. People bought them gladly because they knew the goods were honest and good…
