(Setting: Angelo's Bar and Restaurant, Red Hook Brooklyn, 1960s)
Johnny London was
flanked by a couple of soldiers. His icy blue eyes bored into Billy, who stared
back unflinchingly.
“That job you
pulled was a major fuckup.”
“Who says it was
me? I haven’t heard a word from the cops about anything.”
“That’s because we
sent word we’d take care of it,” Johnny growled. “Don’t you see the people who
go to that place every day? Did you ever stop and think that there might be a
special interest in that place?”
“C’mon, Johnny,”
Billy reasoned. “I’m in here every other day and I’ve never heard mention about
that place being mobbed up.”
“Well, we don’t
talk about a lot of things, especially in front of people who are not mobbed up! Did you ever tell Dee Dee
what you were planning?”
“Why would I tell
Dee Dee? That would implicate him.”
“That’s the
problem with smart guys,” Johnny pointed his cigar at Billy. “You think you got
all the answers. That’s why smart guys don’t go into this lifestyle. This is
like the police force, you don’t ask what assignments you get, you just go out
and do your job. Maybe you should go be a cop and learn how to take orders.”
“They don’t take
guys who did five years for armed robbery.”
“You think you’re
the only one around here who’s ever done time?” Johnny smirked as the wiseguys
alongside him shook their heads. “It gives you credentials, but it doesn’t mean
shit to anyone besides whoever you did the time for. Think about that.”
“I’d like to speak
to Mimi about this.”
“I speak for
Mimi,” Johnny said flatly. “You know, if they linked you guys to this you’d be
flushed down the same toilet. You know that spic friend of yours paid off his
Mom’s rent for the year? What makes you think they wouldn’t pull a rerun on
this? They pick him up, kick his ass, then you’re back in the can.”
“So there’s no way
I can talk to Mimi.”
“Mimi told me to
talk to you. What makes you think you can talk to Mimi whenever you feel like
it?”
“I’m asking your
permission.”
“Permission
denied. You tell me what you want and I’ll tell Mimi.”
Billy reached
inside his jacket, causing the wiseguys to rise in their seats. Billy’s hand
stopped short and Johnny signaled them to back down.
“I know you’re
supposed to pay tribute, it’s a tradition,” Billy laid a stuffed envelope in
front of Johnny. “If there’s a special interest, then that should confirm it’s
ten percent in there.”
“Smart kid,”
Johnny grunted as he picked the envelope off the table and shoved it in his
pocket.
“Real smart kid,”
one of the wiseguys smiled.
“You lay low until
we send for you, don’t come around here until then,” Johnny told him. “We know
you and your friends hang out at O’Keefe’s, and we know where you live. We
could make you bring the whole score back, but we know you made a mistake. Do
you know you made a mistake?”
“I guess I did.”
“The place is
insured, lucky for you. Like I said, you don’t do anything until we send for
you.”
“Got it.”
He lay in his
hotel room that night, swigging from a bottle of Bushmill’s and watching TV
until the station shut down for the night. He continued staring at the test
pattern on the screen long after the National Anthem had concluded the
evening’s programming. He relived the events of the last couple of weeks over
and over again, wondering if he was maintaining control over his life or losing
it without realizing.
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