MOB RULES Page 2
“What the hell is so natural about the course I’m on, mom?” She asked.
“Well, right now you are just a little bit,” her mother hesitated. “Uhhh…confused.”
“Confused?”
“Well yes dear, I think you are. There is no ideal marriage, there are always bumps in the road. I think the natural course would be to start talking with your husband again. Maybe have a date night?”
Bonnie gave her the look. She remained silent and watched as her mother began to fidget nervously.
“Well you could!” The older woman finally blurted in frustration.
“Don’t start, mom. I can’t go back to living like that. I will never play second fiddle again.”
“Good Lord. You have a husband who cares about his job. A good man who protects people,” her mother spoke with an exasperated sense of resignation. “I just don’t understand this at all.”
“Mom, I’m not going to do this again,” Bonnie said softly with a smoldering glare. “Please let it go.”
“Well, I just don’t understand your generation, that’s all. Nothing is ever good enough,” She threw her hands in the air as she turned and walked back towards the kitchen.
Bonnie could still hear her mother mumbling as she walked away although she couldn’t make out the words. She rose from the desk and closed the door with a mild slam. Sitting back down, she looked again at the picture of BigDaddyJoe. Beyond the profile Bonnie could see her own reflection in the laptops glass screen. She saw the thinning hair and the crows feet and she grimaced again.
Am I even good enough for BigDaddyJoe, she wondered silently? And how would he measure up to BigDaddyJimmy? Disgusted with herself, Bonnie quickly clicked out of the dating site and closed the laptop. She sat silently, feeling the weight of life pressing down upon her shoulders. It was getting dark in the small den as dusk was falling over Long Island. She looked out the window to see that the children were no longer in the streets. Even they had abandoned her, she thought.
The last slivers of light cut through the venetian blinds. Bonnie remained seated, staring into nothing long after the light faded.
Mob Rules
3
Vincent Giovanni paced the floor of the seedy Brooklyn hotel room. He was dressed in a blue track suit with a typical white tank top underneath. He wore three gold chains and a large, platinum Rolex. His hair was greased and slicked back so it lay flat against his scalp. It was if he’d studied a caricature of how a mobster was supposed to look and then copied it.
Vinny liked to conduct business in this hotel as there was an easily accessible rear exit. Also, the people who ran the place were well aware of who he was and more importantly, who he was with. He was treated with respect and no small part fear. Should an indiscretion take place on the premises he knew that nobody would talk to the police.
His street name was Skinny Vinny, although nobody dared call him that to his face. At 5 feet 7 inches and weighing just 133 lbs. he had a chip on his shoulder the size of Manhattan. Vinny’s sensitivity over his small stature was legendary and he was quick to violence should anybody be foolish enough to bring it up in jest or otherwise.
He’d only recently become a made man in the Franco family, an appointment that did not sit well with many of the other Franco associates. However, as the nephew of the boss’s sister-in-law he was sponsored by the head man himself. And nobody voted against the boss.
Those close to Vinny thought that getting made would give him the ego boost necessary to temper his feelings of inadequacy, but just the opposite had happened. Now that he was a full fledged member of the powerful mafia family, he seemed to go out of his way to seek altercations. It was though he wanted an excuse to flaunt his power and prove to the rest of the criminal element that he was a force to be reckoned with. His violent outbursts had already gotten him called in for two different sit downs with his capo Paulie Aggio and Anthony Scalaro the underboss of the family. Each time he was told in no uncertain terms to stop the shit, to keep a lower profile. Vinny may have been a cheap thug and a low-life, but he understood the life and always showed the proper respect to his mob superiors. He knew full well that Scalaro, the family underboss, did not like him and disapproved of the fact that he was brought into the family only because of his connections. Accordingly, Vinny did his best to show deference to the man hoping to win him over. The plan backfired however causing Scalaro to despise the man even more for his brown-nosing approach. This was a life for men, the underboss fumed, not sniveling yes men.
A knock sounded and Vinny walked quickly to the door. Opening it, he glared at the two men who walked into the room.
“Hey Vinny,” the larger of the two greeted him.
“You’re late,” came the angry reply.
“The fucking traffic was brutal, Vinny. We had collections in the Bronx and the bridge was jammed up.”
“Did I ask you for a fucking excuse?” Vinny challenged his underling.
“Sorry, boss,” the smaller of the two men said.
They were part of his crew, men who had been with him even before he got made. They both understood that complete submission to their boss usually diffused a situation better than any other approach.
Vinny walked over to the bed and grabbed a satchel. He unzipped it and showed the contents to the men.
“Seventy K,” he spoke. “And a map to the meet in Greensboro.”
Vinny zipped the bag back up and tossed it to the larger man.
“You don’t think these guys will try anything stupid, do you Vinny?” The man asked. “I mean North Carolina is a long way from New York.”
“Not a chance. They know who we are.”
“Yeah, but these fucking Colombians, some of them are real cowboys.”
“My connection is pretty high up the food chain over there. Anybody tried to rip us off would find a chainsaw up their ass. Quit worrying, you sound like a pussy.”
The large man bit his tongue and said nothing.
“Just go get the H and get back here,” Vinny continued. “I got guys on the street running short on product.”
There was a soft knock on the door.
Both of Vinny’s underlings spun around and their hands went to the pistols under their jackets.
“Whoa,” Vinny interjected. “I’m expecting company. Take it easy.”
The two men relaxed and Vinny breezed past them and cracked the door. He then smiled and opened it fully.
“Come on in, doll,” he said.
A young lady entered the room trying her best to look in control. She was young, probably no more than nineteen. She wore a bright, pink halter-top under an unzipped, fur lined jacket and despite the low temperature, a short mini skirt. She wore pink pumps that matched her top. On her left breast she sported a small tattoo of Popeye the Sailor Man.
“They didn’t tell me there was three of you,” she said, her voice sounded anxious, betraying her calm exterior.
“First off,” Vinny spoke with authority. “These two was just leaving. Second thing is if I want to hear you speak I’ll ask you a question.”
The girl stood in the center of the room and looked nervously from man to man.
“Got it?!” Vinny yelled brusquely.
Her head snapped back to look at him.
“Yes,” she replied meekly.
“Good.”
Vinny turned to his men. “Make sure you don’t fuck this up. Be back here tomorrow night.”
The men nodded and walked towards the door.
“Close it behind you,” Vinny barked as he turned back to give his full attention to the young woman who was trying her best to smile.
“Didn’t they tell you not to wear high fucking heels?” Vinny snapped at her.
“Nobody told me that,” the girl answered nervously.
“I don’t like fucking high heels. Take them off.”
The girl did as she was told.
Mob Rules
4
Harris
ignored the elevator, as was his practice, and bound up the stairs two at a time until he arrived on the third floor. He walked through the maze of desks as many of his colleagues stood watching him. They knew by the fact that Deputy Commissioner Shannon was here that something was up.
Harris was all business. He ignored the many eyes upon him and strode directly towards his office. As he entered, his boss rose from the chair in which he was sitting.
“Hello, Jimmy,” Shannon greeted him, walking over and extending his hand. His tone underscored the gravity of the visit.
“Hello Blake,” Harris answered, returning the handshake. “Where is the D.A.?”
“Sit down, Jimmy.”
Harris took a seat behind his desk. The Deputy Commissioner walked back to the open door. He took notice of all the officers quietly watching him. Shutting the door softly, he turned to walk back towards Harris desk.
“I’m not going to beat around the bush,” he began. “We’ve got credible information that you, your wife and your son are being targeted.”
Harris shot out of his chair.
“What!? What the hell do you mean, targeted?!”
“Jimmy,” the man spoke calmly, ignoring the question. “Where are Bonnie and Danny right now? We sent a car to your house but nobody was home.”
“They’re still at her mother’s house. Wait a second, you had time to send a car yet I’m just hearing about this?! Are you fucking kidding me!?”
“Jimmy, we sent the car as soon as we got this information. At the same time we sent for you. This is very fresh intel.”
“Talk to me, Blake,” Harris implored, his eyes a question mark. “What the hell is going on?”
“We have a C.I. working for us. He’s a made guy in the Franco family. We got him dead to rights in a distribution case and he flipped. He told us about the contract.”
“Contract for what? A kidnapping? What?”
The deputy commissioner’s face hardened, the lines on his forehead running in long, deep creases. He stared directly into Harris eyes and answered.
“According to the C.I. there is a hit out on Bonnie and Danny. You too.”
Harris felt the words hit him like a punch in the stomach. He stood speechless for a moment and simply stared at the man across the desk from him. He tried to swallow but it stuck in his throat and burned like sandpaper.
“A hit?”
“Yes.”
“Who put out the hit?”
“Our guy won’t say. He says it’s bad enough he’s telling us this.”
“Okay,” Harris nodded. He continued in a low, menacing tone. “Who is the informant and when do I get to question him?”
“We can’t do that, Jimmy.”
“What the hell do you mean you can’t do that!?” Harris yelled. The people outside his office all stopped what they were doing and looked towards the door.
“Jimmy,” the senior man spoke softly. “I understand exactly what you must be feeling but we can’t have you lean on this guy. This is a very delicate balancing act. We’re talking about a made guy here.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?! We’re talking about my family here!”
“Absolutely. And we are going to take care of them. But if you fall on this guy one of two things happens, either he winds up killed by his own people or he runs, in which case, nobody wins.”
“How can you talk about winning?!”
“I know this is a lot to handle but you need to think rationally. There is nothing to be gained by going after the informant. Don’t forget that he alerted us to this.”
Harris remained quiet, letting this last piece of information sink in. Slowly, the light bulb grew brighter. That’s why Sylvia isn’t here, he thought silently.
“So you’re telling me to do nothing?!”
“I’m not saying that at all.”
“But you won’t give me the green light on your C.I.?”
“Try to understand. We have a huge RICO case pending.”
“Yeah, well I’d hate for my family’s well being to jeopardize that,” Harris snapped angrily.
“Jimmy, your family will be okay. We will get them into a safe house.”
Harris stared at the man and ground his teeth together while trying to control his growing fury.
“Look, I gave you enough information to go on,” the man said as he raised his eyebrows and shot Harris a look. “You don’t need the C.I.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think. The C.I. is probably just one of many people who know where this order came from.”
Harris immediately understood the implication. He felt his anger abate, albeit slightly, and did his best to think calmly and rationally. The Deputy Commissioner was right.
“Okay,” Harris spoke nodding at the man. “Okay.”
“Just don’t give up the fact that it leaked from within the family. Please.”
Harris simply stared at the man.
“Jimmy,” the man implored. “Please.”
“Blake, I’m not going to lie to you. I will do whatever I have to do to protect my wife and son. Do you understand? Whatever I have to do.”
“Goddamn it, Jimmy!” The man lost his reserved demeanor. “We have countless man hours and a small fortune of the tax payer money involved in this case! We’re going after indictments on the top level guys! Bosses! This is a federal case. We are not asking you to put your family’s life at risk! Do what you do! Go find the bastards and stop this! But try to understand that we have responsibilities too!”
“Jesus Christ, Blake. How the hell am I going to get anybody in the Franco’s to help me?”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. But I want to be kept in the loop the whole way. Got it?”
Harris wasn’t listening anymore. He stared down at his desk, as he tried to think of any angle he could use. Any leverage he had at all.
“Jimmy.” Shannon repeated. “You got it?”
Harris raised his head to look at the man.
“Yeah, Blake. I got it.”
“Okay,” Shannon spoke. He extended a hand. “We will do everything on our end, believe me. And arrangements are being made to safe guard your family as we speak.”
Harris shook his hand for a second time. Shannon gave him a nod and walked out of the office.
Harris stood in place, stunned. He tried to slow his breathing, to remain calm.
He reached into his pocket for his phone.
Mob Rules
5
“Hi Jimmy, how are you?”
“I’m good, Barb,” Harris spoke quickly. “Is Bonnie there?”
“Sure, Jimmy,” the woman asked cautiously. “Is everything all right?”
“Yeah,” Harris began before stopping himself. He paused momentarily. “It’s kind of complicated actually. Is she there?”
“Well yes she is, Jimmy. Listen, while I have you on the phone, how would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night?”
“Barbara, it’s really very crucial that I speak to Bonnie right away.” He tried to remain patient.
“Well, I am going to fix a nice pot roast and Lord only knows when the last time you had a good home cooked –“
“Barbara,” he said, cutting her off brusquely. “This is extremely urgent. I don’t have time to discuss dinner. I need Bonnie now.”
“I’m-I’m sorry,” the woman replied, hurt evident in her voice. “I’ll get her right away.”
Harris paced his office floor and listened as his mother-in-law called for Bonnie. Seconds later, his estranged wife was on the line.
“What do you want, Jimmy? I’m in no mood.”
“Bonnie,” he began. The urgency in his voice was palpable. “Where is Danny?”
“He’s in his room. Why?”
“You need to get in your car and drive over to the precinct. Right now.”
“What the hell is this, Jimmy? What’s going on?”
“I will explain everything when you get here. Just
do as I ask. Leave right now.”
“The hell I will,” she answered making no attempt to hide her annoyance. “I have plans tonight.”
“Bonnie,” he spoke firmly, hesitating to make a point. “This is extremely urgent. Leave right now.”
“What is going on, Jimmy? You’re starting to freak me out.”
“I will explain everything to you when you get here. I would come and get you myself but time is a factor.”
“Jimmy?” Bonnie spoke. Her voice began to tremble. “What the hell?”
“There is a black and white that should be pulling up to the house any second. They are going to escort you here. Please just do as I ask and leave immediately.”
“Are you not going to tell me what this is about?”
“I will tell you once you get here.”
“No,” Bonnie spoke sternly. “You will tell me now.”
“Bonnie, please. Please don’t fight me on this.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me,” she said, digging in her heels.
“Jesus Christ, Bonnie!” Harris shouted. “Why does everything have to be a battle with you these days?!”
“Because I don’t have to follow your orders anymore! Those days are over!”
“Bullshit! I never ordered you-” Harris stopped mid sentence. Taking a deep breath he remained silent while he composed himself. Okay, he thought to himself. Okay.
“You want to know?” He asked calmly.
“I think I have a right to know why I have to drop everything and run out to the city.”
“All right, here it is,” Harris said softly. In a matter of seconds he explained to his estranged wife exactly what he knew. He was short and concise. When he was finished he shut his mouth and waited for a reaction. None was forthcoming.
“Are you still there,” Harris asked.
Bonnie remained quiet, shell-shocked by what she’d just heard. It’s not every day you learn that somebody has paid to have you killed. She felt the room grow colder and wondered if she was still standing. Her head swooned and she experienced vertigo.
“Bonnie!” Harris yelled into the phone as frustration finally won got the best of him. “Are you still there?!”