tampered | I've got 500 in twenties and I've got a ton of great ideas...

Entry tags:

I've got 500 in twenties and I've got a ton of great ideas...

When; August 24, late afternoon
Where; Somewhere sketchy
Rating; Could definitely be R, for violence and language at least!
Characters; Meyer Lansky & Al Capone
Summary; Al sees a side of Meyer he's never seen before, and has no idea what to do with it.
Log;

He doesn't much enjoy these places -- questionable bars with even more questionable back rooms, the narrow alleys outside of them, the places people go to do the kind of business that shouldn't see the light of day; the City might not be much like New York, but it has its fair share of dangerous places, too. Sure, he does just fine in places like that, knows how to handle himself, knows how to conduct himself in an appropriate manner, but that doesn't mean he spends more time than he needs to in these seedy areas. The casino's a legitimate business, as far as anyone is concerned, and he'd like to keep it that way. But there're other businesses he's involved in, businesses that necessitate meeting in odd places, businesses that involve meeting with unpleasant people.

That's where he is now. Behind some nondescript building in the Underground, having what would appear to be a polite conversation with another man, were it observed from afar. If someone was listening intently, though, if they could get close enough to the two men to hear what they were really saying, it would quickly become obvious that, although the conversation is hushed, it's anything but pleasant. Polite, perhaps, since Meyer's almost always polite, but there's something threatening in his voice, too. He doesn't like it when business doesn't go his way. And he really doesn't like it when someone tries to cheat him.

As far as he knows, there's nobody listening. He'd be wrong about that.

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"It'll go just fine. Most of my clients aren't the type to cause any trouble."

With the exception, of course, of people like the guy he'd just left to die in the alley, but he's an exception. Thus far, neither of his businesses -- the casino or the drug business -- have necessitated a great deal of violence, and he's glad for it. Unlike some people, he doesn't relish the chance to beat the shit out of someone, but sometimes, it just has to be done.

Say what you may about forceful business tactics, Meyer, but even you can't deny that it feels good to lay one down on someone that deserves it.

"How far's your reach?"

If he's going to be involved in the business, Al figures he might as well get to know it. For just discovering the product in the back, he only knows its quantity dissipates over time before it is miraculously replenished. Who it goes to, when and how he has no mind of nor how hands on Meyer himself is in the endeavor.

"Not far enough."

It's an oblique answer, but it's partially true: he hopes that by getting Al involved, he can extend his reach a little farther, but he's in no hurry to do so. The way he sees it, they're either going to be stuck here for the long haul or they're not, and he's willing to put in a little extra work to make sure this goes slowly and smoothly. After all, the competition here isn't anywhere as stiff as it is back in New York -- he can afford to take things more slowly, to corner the market at his own pace.

"I prefer to avoid dealing with the underground as much as I can."

And not just because the people who hung around down there inspired evident rage in him. If he can do most of his business in the more legit side of the City, that'll arouse less suspicions. "I have a fair number of customers," he continues, "but it's never going to be a market like it was back home."

Part of that's the sheer population of the place. It's a lot smaller than New York or Chicago. Another part of that has seemed to be, thus far, that proportionally less people are interested in drugs. He takes what business he can, though, and he does fine. A lot of that's down to the lack of competition.

Figures as much. The answer lacks satisfaction, an endeavor that interests Al. It's true, the City is nothing like back home, but it's a fair challenge to speculate how lucrative the trade could be in a purgatory between worlds.

"Who doesn't? Still, it's always got people dropping in for one thing or another."

It's rough around the edges for a reason-- nobody worth much seems to want to stick around for long.

"Selling your goods in a place that turns on its head on a weekly basis-- it's either guaranteed to be a hard sell or a genuine enhancement to the experience."

No matter where one ends up, the world will inevitably always be a crazy place. In that, there will always be people looking for some adventure or to drown their sorrows.

There was far less danger of getting caught here, too. While the City technically had a police force, technically had authority figures, he'd never run afoul of them, and he didn't expect to anytime soon. They were busy dealing with more important things, and their control was relatively lax. He liked it that way. That was, of course, no reason to be sloppy, but it made things a little easier to deal with.

"Thing is, the customers I do have are... dedicated, I'd say."

Extremely addicted, more like.

"I don't have that many customers who try it once and never come back for more. You get someone once, you've often got a customer for life."

Or until they vanish from the City, but they're always replaceable.

Anything to make a few bucks and leave a reasonably happy customer. It's certainly one way to secure business and he's not opposed to that.

"You usually make the deliveries yourself?"

From Meyer's description of the trade seems to be a small racket, how small he still doesn't fully know. Even so, a confirmation of this speculation would surprise him. Meyer doesn't strike him as a hands-on type of guy or one that gets too involved with his base of customers. After obsessively running a casino-- really, how would he have the time anyway?

"At this juncture, yes, although it makes me... uncomfortable."

He doesn't like being the one to deliver the drugs. Back home, they'd had Benny to do it for them. He'd never been the guy whose face anyone could connect to the illegal drug trade. Sure, people assumed he was doing something illegal, especially with the card game, but nobody had had much to pin on him. Around here, if there were cops, he's pretty sure he'd be investigated in a hot second.

"Often I don't make the deliveries so much as I leave them some place, wait around to make sure the guy picks it up and leaves the money."

He still doesn't like having his face out there. It's a relatively small city, as far as this kind of thing goes, and he can't hope for the anonymity he'd had back in New York. People had always focused on Charlie, anyway.

"Good tactic until the guy with as much zip as a cheetah or some kid with a good sniffer finds the drop first."

There's more of a twist to the City than the law. Al's constantly coming across new information, whether from another time or world entirely. He retains as much as he can, turning a handicap into an advantage-- it's adapt or become obsolete. Some of the learning has been more painful than others, but he passes up no opportunity to show it off.

"But you're still finding your footing."

And along the way he'll be more than happy to pitch in his share of suggestions, solicited or not.

"I'm aware that it isn't ideal," he says, shaking his head as he walks back towards the City, "but it is a bit of a challenge, to find people who're willing to get involved in the industry. Are you?

As in: is Al willing to make the deliveries? Is Al willing to make his face known as the face of the drug business in the City? Meyer doesn't kid himself that he's the biggest drug business in the City, but he's pretty sure he has staying power, assuming he sticks around long enough to see his plans out. Nobody intends on disappearing, but him least of all; he's got longterm business plans, and like anyone else, he's trying to find his niche in the City. The casino is something, but it's not challenging enough, and it certainly doesn't bring in enough money.

There's plenty of things he's willing to do, most because he knows that he's capable but some, perhaps the boldest, because it's something to do. A wicked impulse that is the ultimate high. It just feels right: purposeful, and if he can make a buck off of it then even better.

"I'll make the deliveries with you tonight-- see what you've got going on. If you're willing to part with a little product after that, I can see how it takes off in the spots I'm thinking of."

The casino is one place of business he might regard Meyer as of more authority, but this? This business is the kind he takes seriously, the kind that he demands more liberties. It's easier to be crafty on his terms than anyone else's.

There's a moment of consideration as he walks, but ultimately, he knows -- and Al probably knows -- that he's going to agree. He needs a partner, after all. This isn't doable alone, as much as doing it alone would sometimes seem ideal. He's used to working with Charlie, and Al's no Charlie (he tries not think about Charlie too much; dwelling on the past and the people who aren't here isn't productive), but Al's capable enough. He knows that. He's seen that.

"All right," he nods, "You come along with me tonight, and we'll see what you think."

He doesn't think Al's going to screw him over. Not when they work at the casino, too. Not when it's a small market and they have to take what they can get. They may never be friends, exactly, but he's found Al to be a reliable business partner. And now that Al's seen him in a situation like this? He doesn't imagine he'll be in a hurry to get on his bad side.

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I've got 500 in twenties and I've got a ton of great ideas...

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