Deadlock

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“She’s sitting right out there in the harbor,” Arturo said. “At the end of old Number Five Pier, the Yvonne Addams. A six-hundred foot bulk freighter. I own her lock, stock, and barrel. Not that it does me any good, you understand, because I can’t get a crew to sail her.”

“Why’s that?” Charlie Petty asked. “Not sea-worthy or whatever they call it?”

“Oh, no, Charlie, she’s ship-shape, got her papers and everything. The Coasties have crawled up one side of her and down the other. She’s ready to sail, ready to make me some money, only I can’t get a crew aboard her. It’s the craziest thing.”

“That’s too bad,” Charlie said. He pulled off his cigarette and glanced around Arturo’s office, wondering what the hell this was all about. Because it was coming, it was surely coming and he knew it.

“Ain’t it, though?” Arturo said.

Charlie flicked his ash. “We all got troubles, Mr. Arturo. But what’s that old hulk got to do with you calling me here? I mean, let’s just get to it, shall we? I owe you fifty grand and you want it and I ain’t got it. That’s what this is about. So quit humping my leg already. Do I get it in the belly or the head?”

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