Chapter Forty-six
Charley called his father from the LA airport at 4:30 P.M. “It’s an El Dorado with California plates,” he said, “Three-one-eight-six-one-two. You got it?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s on the east side of the parking lot about halfway down.”
“You did good, Charley.”
“Yeah.”
“What time is your plane?”
“Twenty minutes.”
“I’ll call the Man in a half an hour. We are off the hook.”
***
Charley got back to the beach in Brooklyn at 7:30 in the evening. He unstrapped the scabbard from his leg and locked it up in the box in his closet. He undressed, took a shower, and went to bed. He fell asleep quickly.
He slept until three o’clock the next afternoon. He made himself a heavy breakfast then washed all the windows in the apartment. As he was cleaning out the closets he found two of Irene’s blouses and one dress. He packed them into a large manila envelope, looked up the address of the Salvation Army in the Brooklyn telephone book and addressed the envelope. He sat out on the terrace until ten minutes to five, thinking about how he was going to run the family and realizing that Irene could never have fitted in among the Prizzis, Sesteros, and Garrones.
He telephoned Maerose Prizzi at her office.
“Mae? Charley.”
“Hey, Charley! You know what? My sister Teresa just got back today from her honeymoon.”
“Where did they go—outer space? How about we’ll have dinner tonight?”
“Dinner? Whatta you mean?”
“What do I mean? I mean let’s go someplace and eat.”
“You and me and Irene?”
“No. You and me.”
“What about Irene?”
“We separated. She went away. How about it?”
“How about it? Holy cow, Charley! Just tell me where you want to meet.”
Richard Condon, Prizzi's Honor
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