Blood in the Golden Palace

Chapter 9: Angelo-1

Chapter 9: Angelo“Let’s go over it one more time.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier to just jump off a f*****g bridge at this point?”

“Angelo. Language.”

“What? You’re telling me your lawyer hasn’t heard a single f**k in his entire life?”

“Stop embarrassing me.”

“Then don’t talk to me like I’m twelve, Pop.”

Mr. Pinkerton, who at this point was used to Angelo and Luciano bickering, took off his glasses to rub his tired eyes. “Mr. DeRossi.” Meaning Angelo. “I realize that this takes up your valuable time, but your answers to these upcoming depositions are vital.”

“s**t, at this point we might as well just come clean and take it on the chin.” Angelo took a drag of his cigarette (one of many that afternoon) and ashed it in a nearby tray. “Prison isn’t so bad. Three hots and a cot, plus all the weights you could lift.”

“Be serious,” Luciano scolded. “Testa di cazzo, if we were all so casual, Angelo, we would be dead by now.”

Mr. Pinkerton stood, cracking his back. “Why don’t we put a pin in it for today? We have at least three more weeks before crunch time. We’ll reconvene on Monday.”

“Fine,” said Luciano. However, his eyes never left his son. “That gives you the weekend to continue searching.”

“We’ve looked high and low, Pop,” Angelo complained. “If you would just let me confront the Corsettis about it, we might actually get somewhere.”

“And finally break the truce that has been keeping the streets free of our family’s blood? No.”

“I keep telling you, Alex Corsetti knows—”

“He knows. It does not mean he is the cause.”

Knowing that this would be yet another circular argument, Angelo finished his smoke and snubbed it into the ashtray. “Goose chase it is then.” He was not keen on wasting his weekend looking for something he knew he couldn’t find, but there was no getting out of it. As Mr. Pinkerton exited the room, Angelo followed, deciding now would be a good time to corner him about their previous discussion.

Down a ways on the second floor of his father’s estate, Angelo was quick to catch up. “Hey, Pinkie.” Pinkerton sneered at Angelo’s nickname. “Any luck with that other assignment?”

Pinkerton sucked on his front teeth. “Does your father know you’re trying to sabotage the state’s evidence, Mr. DeRossi?”

“I know you know that it’s a good idea.”

“It’s a gamble,” Pinkerton snapped. “One that if you lose, you will end up in deeper trouble than if you’d done nothing at all.”

“Listen, you said it yourself that the normal methods won’t work here,” said Angelo. “Which means someone knows our usual moves and is putting eyes on your licensing contacts to prevent us from looking legit. Therefore, the smart thing to do would be to go for what they wouldn’t expect.”

“The smart thing to do is to keep a low profile and pray that we get a bribe-able judge.”

“But why risk a case when we can get it trashed from the get-go?”

“Your father would never approve.”

“He also doesn’t know what most of the buttons on his TV remote do, man. You know that this is a good option.”

“Is it? Is it really?”

“Come on, Pinkie, I got a real good feeling about it.”

“Are you trying to get the case thrown out so you don’t have to do depositions?”

“Maybe.”

Pinkerton took a deep breath, calming his very clear rage. “Fine. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“Never call me Pinkie again.”

“Done deal.”

Pinkerton went through his phone, his lime green and dirt brown bow tie bobbing as he hemmed and hawed. “I might have a few old friends who owe me a favor. If I can make it look like the DA obtained their evidence without a warrant, or missed a few major legal channels, there’s a chance. Granted, the family isn’t getting back those guns regardless of the outcome, but it’s a limb amputation verses an autopsy. I need to reiterate that this is incredibly dangerous, I do not condone it whatsoever, and it could end with us all in a Federal prison.”

“Just be sure not to mention it to Pops and we’re golden.” Pinkerton rolled his eyes and left the hallway, muttering something about not getting paid enough. With his day at the DeRossi family estate very much over, Angelo escaped the house before anyone could pull him into any more nonsense and made a bee-line for his car. He wanted nothing more than to kick back with a beer or two and relax for the first time in a month.

Tragically, that was not on the docket for the afternoon.

“Leaving so soon?”

Angelo paused, his keys dangling between his fingers. Stopping just a few feet shy of the parking lot, he was confronted by none other than Gio Ferri, looking as immaculate as ever. His face was fixed in a permanent stony expression, like a pompous Roman sculpture. “I know that your father was hoping to take the whole day for legal preparations.”

“Yeah, well, I’m sure this will be one more check box for my long list of disappointments for him.”

“Got important plans then?”

“It’s called having a life. You should try it.”

“My life is with the family.”

“Boy you are just a thrill at parties, you know that?”

Gio, his expression never changing, fixed his cuff-link. “How is the search coming along? The last the Don knew, you weren’t any closer to figuring out your mole.”

Angelo hesitated. He eyed Gio for a moment, picking his next words carefully. “I got some ideas.”

“Do you?” Another pause befell the men. “Good. The sooner we patch up the holes in our security, the better for all of us.”

“Right…”

“So? Who are your suspects?”

Alarm bells sounded off in Angelo’s mind. “No one important,” he said casually. “I’m sure you’ve got more pressing things to worry about. Trust me, I got it under control.”

“Are you trying to keep something from me, Angelo?”

“That depends, you got something to hide, Gio?”

The two stared each other down for what felt like an eternity. Neither blinked, neither moved. Until finally, Angelo held up his car keys, and hit the “unlock” button. The “beep” was enough to shatter the atmosphere, and Angelo strut past Gio toward his black Porsche. “Be seeing you.” Sliding into the driver’s seat, he was just about to close the door, when Gio’s hand stopped it half way. They stared each other down.

“Be careful out there,” said Gio lightly. “You’re the Don’s only son. You’re important to this family. No matter how much you don’t want to be.”

A muscle in Angelo’s face twitched. “Good talk.” He shut the car door and watched as Gio made his way back to the house. Once again, he felt like he was staring the answer in the face, but he knew that his hands were tied. But with the weekend on the horizon, Angelo was determined to push it from mind for now. It seemed, however, that his day of misfortune was not over yet. The minute he turned on the car, a text blipped on his cellphone. Opening the screen, he saw that it was from Ernie.

Alex C @ BB’s being an asshole

Angelo groaned, dropping his phone in the cup holder. How appropriate for Alex Corsetti to be the one to ruin the rest of his day? Throwing his car into reverse, he headed towards Bobby Black’s, hoping that this wouldn’t take more than ten minutes. Though he knew how unlikely that would be. Angelo arrived under an hour, parked his car, and headed inside.

Bobby Black’s was even emptier in the day time than it was at night, so it was easy to pick out Alex and his little entourage of goons. They were currently monopolizing the pool table, sucking on cigars and enjoying sloppy beers. At the foot of the bar sat Ernie, seething over his cheese fries and pile of lotto tickets. Angelo, having not been noticed by the Corsetti boys just yet, approached Ernie swiftly.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Ernie turned. “Well it’s Friday, right? So I come in to watch for my numbers—” He gestured at the old CRTV hanging over the bar, the state lotto playing over the jukebox. “—and I see these assholes come in and get comfy.”

Angelo frowned. “They don’t seem to be causing much trouble, Ern. We can’t force them to leave a public place.”

“Yeah, but this is DeRossi territory! Ain’t this like…I dunno…an insult or something?”

“Hey!”

Alex Corsetti’s sharp voice drew Angelo’s attention. He and his boys stopped their pool game, leaning and bending the cues leisurely. Alex was in his most obnoxious purple shirt, a few gold chains glittering off his chest hair. “Finally. You’ve been a bad host there, Angie. You were gonna keep us waiting forever, eh?”

“Haven’t you shits flushed yourselves out of Santa Notte yet?” Angelo asked.

“Now that’s not very nice,” said Alex.

“Good thing I’m not nice,” said Angelo.

Whipping his cue through the air and tossing it to the table, Alex approached Angelo as casually as you please, his hands dug deep into his pants pockets. “So. When are you gonna give me the tour? Show me around, you know, treat your guest with some hospitality, eh?”

Angelo tilted his head just so. “You asking me on a date, Corsetti?”

Alex’s smirk fell as Ernie snickered at Angelo’s side. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you, fag?”

“Nah. Shorter guys aren’t my type.”

Alex was quickly losing his cool. Desperately, he tried regaining as much as he could by puffing out his chest. “Just wondering how your pest control problem is. That’s all. Wondering if you got any new leads?”

“Why, you lose a cousin?”

Alex made a move like he was ready to throw out a punch, but fortunately, one of his boys took his elbow. However, the surge of movement had Angelo leaning back half a step, his hand already reaching for a beer bottle. Alex’s eyes jumped between him and the bottle, and a snide smile returned to his features. “Uh-oh. You reaching for a weapon there, DeRossi? Gonna break the truce already?”

Angelo lowered his hand. “You realize you’re not exactly subtle.”

“Subtle?”

“What’s the point of rubbing my nose with this? I know you’re behind the rat, Alex. What, you want me to throw the first punch, your family gets off scot-free? Is that it?”

That s**t eating grin was back. “Sure, Angelo, sure. Let’s go with that.”

Angelo scoffed. “Don’t try to play smart. It’s not your strong suit.”

“You just keep thinking that.”

Angelo checked the time on his phone. “Well this has wasted more than enough of my afternoon. So if you’ll excuse me.” Angelo turned to make an exit, only to find two of Alex’s goon squad blocking his path to the door. Angelo turned to Alex, disillusioned.

“I wanted to give you a little advice,” Alex slithered. “Your family’s got more than a few rats. It’s got a snake. And believe you me, it’s closer than you’d ever believe.” With a snap of his fingers, the Corsetti boys disengaged, and they left the bar (presumably without paying their tab).

“The hell was that about?” Ernie asked.

Angelo sat at the bar, slamming the rest of Ernie’s beer. “It’s Gio.”

“What? Gio? As in, like, Gio Gio?”

“I can’t think of anyone else. Lately, he’s never around, not even for the boring lawyer meetings.”

“Have you talked to the Don?”

“Pops won’t hear it. He’s so blinded by loyalty, he doesn’t know that he’s got a traitor right under his nose. Meanwhile, that fuckin hyena is laughing it up cause he knows I can’t do s**t about it.”

“Man…” Ernie ran his fingers through his thinning hair. “All right. So what do we do? You got a plan or something?”

Angelo shook his head. “I wish I knew where to start.” Sighing through his nose, Angelo pinched his brow. “If I could catch him in the act, get some kind of evidence to show for it, Pops would have to listen to me. But the dude is nearly untraceable when he wants to be. He doesn’t even own a cell. Just a burner for emergencies. The guy still uses payphones to get in touch with the family otherwise. Still don’t know why Pop allows that bullshit.”