Baccano! - Volume 3 - Chapter 11

EPILOGUE

DELINQUENTS

The investigation had settled down, and the Flying Pussyfoot had been put in storage for a while.

Several figures stood quietly in the cars, from which the police had temporarily withdrawn.

“This ain’t good.”

“No, it really isn’t.”

Jon, the dining car bartender, and Fang, the cook’s assistant, were the men who had told Jacuzzi’s gang about the train. Technically, according to the original plan, they should have reached New York without anyone discovering this fact, but the situation had turned ugly on them.

“Think we’ll get the boot?”

“We just might.”

When Jacuzzi had recaptured the dining car from the black suits, the two of them had taken control with guns in their hands, as large as life. It had been glaringly obvious that they were used to using guns and, on top of that, that they were friends of the young guy who’d said he was occupying the train. Fortunately, because the cargo robbery that Jacuzzi’s gang had pulled off hadn’t been discovered, they’d managed to avoid a trip to the police station, but after everything was over, they’d been called out by the head cook. At the very least, that was what the two of them thought.

“If they fire us, what are you going to do?”

“My big sis is a waitress at a honey shop. Maybe I’ll see if they’ll hire me as a cook.”

“What’s this ‘honey shop’ business? And, anyway, didn’t you cause trouble and get yourself run out of Chinatown?”

“They ran my sister out later. They said it was ‘collective responsibility.’ Then the Italians picked her up. From what I hear, there’s a speakeasy in the back of the honey shop they run, and that’s where she works.”

As his pal spoke pragmatically, Jon murmured, gazing into empty space:

“Ah… A speakeasy, huh? I wonder if they’re looking for bartenders, too.”

With his listless voice as the last sound, a heavy silence pressed down around them.

A mouthwatering aroma drifted through the area around the counter seats where they were sitting. All they could hear from the depths of the kitchen was the sound of the head cook stirring a big pot of stew. It echoed in the silence, further amplifying Jon’s and Fang’s anxiety and appetite.

Abruptly, the noises from the kitchen ceased, and the head chef’s bearlike voice resounded, quietly.

“You boys won’t need to board this train tomorrow.”

At those words, Jon and Fang sighed. In a way, their expressions seemed relieved.

“We’re fired?”

They’d half expected that answer. Since they’d been prepared, the shock wasn’t that great. However—

“Fired, hell. The whole dining car’s being eighty-sixed.”

“Huh?”

“Sir?”

At this, conversely, the two looked bewildered. The head cook paid no attention to them; his dispassionate voice just went on telling them the facts.

“The almighty company that gave us room as tenants is going to make it so this train never existed. In other words, their cheap trick to hush up the incident is costing you fellas your jobs. That goes for me, too, of course.”

At this unexpected development, Jon and Fang looked at each other. In that case, why were they the only ones who’d been called here?

“I’m getting to that. I’m acquainted with some wealthy folks by the name of Genoard, and they’re looking for a cook and bartender. I’m going to badger the owner of the main store into letting me go back there, so you two go work for the rich folks for a bit. They’re flush enough to be hiring their own bartender. No complaints there, right?”

Jon’s and Fang’s eyes were round. Without even attempting to ask what they thought, the head cook forced the conversation ahead.

“I don’t care what sort of gang you run with, or what kind of reprobates you are. You’ve got solid skills as a cook and bartender, and I’ll vouch for those. Besides, you were the only duo with a bartender that I could think of. From what I hear, they’re in their second home in New York right now, so head over and introduce yourselves tomorrow. Got it?!”

His tone brooked no argument, and Jon and Fang nodded in spite of themselves. However, deep down, they were also happy to hear they were trusted.

“Stew’s ready. Eat up.”

For the first time, the two responded in unison to the voice that came from the depths of the kitchen:

“Thank you, sir! We’ll take it!”

However, at the head cook’s next words, their smiles froze.

“Is that right. It’s enough stew to feed a hundred people, and I was just worrying about how it was going to go to waste. That’s a load off my mind. You said you’d eat it, so you better eat all of it. If you leave any leftovers, I’ll stew your hands from the wrists down and make bouillon out of ’em, and don’t you forget it.”

“…And so we brought you a get-well snack. Eat. It’ll give you energy.”

“Not only that, it’s delicious! If you don’t eat this, you’ll die! Because we’ll curse you.”

Behind a huge pot that contained easily over twenty-five gallons, Jon and Fang wore patently fake smiles.

“G-gimme a break.”

On the other side of the pot, Jacuzzi was lying in bed, looking as if he was about to start crying in earnest.

Jacuzzi’s bed was in a room of the hospital Fred ran. For now, they’d decided to admit him, but it sounded as if he’d be able to leave in a few days.

Jack was in the bed next to Jacuzzi, and Donny was asleep in the bed beyond that one. Both were snoring loudly. On Jon and Fang’s orders, Donny had helped them carry the pot over, and while he was at it, he’d polished off enough of its contents to feed about twenty people.

Even so, the pot showed no sign of running out of stew. They’d been told it was enough for a hundred people, but they wondered if it might not actually be more than that.

Nice and Nick were there, too. In other words, all the friends who’d been on the train were here together. As they were discussing what to do about the stew, there was a sudden commotion outside the room.

“What’s that? Something smells real good.”

“Hey, no fair hogging it all for yourselves. Give us summa that, too.”

At that, Jacuzzi’s companions began to stream in through the door, one after another.

“Guys!”

Jacuzzi’s voice was cheerful. Several of them were people who’d gone out in boats as the recovery team, to retrieve the explosives that had been dropped into the river.

“Yo, Jacuzzi! Those explosives! We got friends of ours, this old guy with a mine and a Hollywood movie tech, to buy them off us under the table. We sold ’em for sky-high prices! We’re rollin’ in dough! A hundred thousand dollars, man, a hundred thousand dollars! Don’t that beat all?!”

“The clay shells from those grenades, too. With the contents taken out, those went for two hundred dollars apiece.”

Jacuzzi loved his straightforward friends, who gave him a report on their finances before they worried about his injuries.

“Is that right? That’s great!”

“But listen, Jacuzzi. You can’t go back to Chicago no more.”

Stuffing his face with the stew as if it was delicious, one of his friends told him the facts, pragmatically.

“Huh?”

“The mafia knows about all your rooms, and they’ll fill you full of daylight just for going near one.”

“O-oh no!”

Jacuzzi’s face went white.

“Well, we’re in New York already. Let’s just stay. The other guys are on their way over.”

“Nn, don’t say that like it’s easy…”

Jacuzzi’s eyes had teared up, and his friends abruptly switched to a cheerful topic.

“Hey, by the way, Jacuzzi. Would you believe us if we told you a looker came falling down out of the sky?”

“Was it suicide?”

“No, you idiot! Look, we were picking up the cargo you guys dropped, right?! She was floating along, hanging on to one of those crates! She had a wounded shoulder, but she’s a total stunner! She said, if we were gonna be in New York, she’d join up! She’s a quiet, real polished doll, see? She just got the doc here to look at her injury.”

“Huh. Really? I wonder if she got hurt during the train robbery.”

After thinking for a little while, Jacuzzi artlessly warped the tattoo on his face.

“I’d like to meet her.”

“Yeah, I’ll introduce you. C’mon in, Chané!”

On seeing the beauty in the black dress who came in through the door, Jacuzzi welcomed his new friend with a bright smile—and Nice and Nick dropped their bowls of stew all over the floor.