Blood in the Golden Palace

Chapter 9: Angelo-2

“Jesus. No wonder you think he’s the guy.”

“Mm.” Angelo pulled out his phone, tapping the bar in thought. As he scrolled through his contacts, he paused on the F’s when he spotted Frankie’s name and number come up. An idea took root in his head. It was a long shot of course, but it was worth a try. “Hey, settle your tab.”

“Huh?”

Angelo was already heading for the door. “If we hurry we can catch him before he closes shop. Come on.”

“Angelo, wait—! Where are—hey!” Leaving as much as a tip as he could, Ernie grabbed the remainder of his cheese fries and scuttled after Angelo.

* * * *

By the time they reached Fisherman’s Bay, a cold front had settled in, threatening more foul weather for the evening. Parking just outside of Frankie’s warehouse, he and Ernie headed in and called for an audience with the man himself. Frankie, who had been gearing up for a private game of cards, was all together irritated at the interruption, but agreed to see Angelo and Ernie in his private office. The first thing that Angelo noticed was the presence of Sam on the couch lazily playing on his phone. Immediately, Frankie slapped Sam’s boots off the arm rest, and Sam looked up, droopy.

“The f**k I tell you about getting my s**t dirty? Your shitty boots are gonna scuff up everything I own.”

Sam went back to his phone. “Whatever.”

Not bothering to engage further, Frankie turned to Angelo, putting on his best “used cars salesman” smile. “So. What can I do for Don DeRossi today, eh? More coke? Something stronger? Weapons, pets, blowfish sushi—?”

Angelo held up a hand. “We were wondering how your resources are lately, Frank.”

“Resources?”

“Everybody knows that Frankie the Wise is the only free agent with eyes on the city. I was hoping to get some information.”

“Of course, of course. How can I be of assistance?”

“I want to know if there were any DeRossi men where they shouldn’t be. Maybe doing some errands on their own, skirting around bad parts of town?”

Frankie screwed up his brows. “Sorry there, Angelo, but that’s a big ask. I don’t think I could tell you if I wanted to.”

“What about Corsetti then?”

“Corsetti?”

“Alex Corsetti. He’s been a little more than at home around town. Been stomping around with a full entourage. Maybe your eyes have seen something important?”

“Hm.” Frankie stroked his greasy goatee. “I haven’t heard anything in particular…”

“How about some of the worse parts of town? Any suspicious characters? Maybe some unusual faces?

“What’s he look like?”

All three men turned to Sam, who finally looked over his phone to engage in the conversation. Frankie looked ready to strangle Sam for interrupting, but Angelo stepped forward. “Short guy, thinning hair. Usually wears some pretty obnoxious colors, always has some guys around him.”

Sam sat up, stuffing his phone into the pocket of his hoodie. “There’s an old condemned parking complex on the south end I like to chill at. It’s mostly burnouts and pushers and s**t. Last week, these guys started showing up in the middle of the night. Made a bunch of us leave.”

“Yeah?” said Angelo. “And what did they look like?”

Sam shrugged. “I mean, they were, like, in expensive clothes and stuff.” He turned to Frankie. “They kinda dressed like you, Uncle Frank.”

“Like me? How?”

“Lots of ugly shirts.”

“You little fu—”

“How long were they there?” Angelo pressed.

“Dunno. It was pretty late. A lot of us bounced. We didn’t want trouble. But then they came by a few weeks after. Same time. And a couple weeks after that.”

“When was the last time you saw them?”

“Last Thursday? I think?”

“So if it’s a pattern, we have some time.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, Angelo…” For the first time since arriving, Ernie waved Angelo away from the conversation. They stepped away, and Ernie lowered his voice. “Are you seriously taking this kid’s word on this?”

“What? Why not?”

“Well look at him, man.” They both turned to Sam, who had gone back to poking at his phone. “I know I ain’t no genius, but that kid is a few crayons short of a box.”

“You think?”

“Come on, the guy looks like all that bleach went to his brain. Plus, I think I know what complex he’s talking about. It’s out of DeRossi territory.”

“Oh?”

Ernie turned. “Hey, kid.” Sam looked up. “This complex. Is it over on Elm on the south end?” Sam nodded. Ernie turned back to Angelo. “I used to bang this trash chick from a south end trailer park. Real piece of work. Anyway, she was close to this big old parking garage. The thing was crawling with druggies and pushers.”

“All the more reason why Alex would want to hide in a place like that.”

“Yeah,” Ernie argued, “but if it’s outside the Don’s reach, you might not be able to get backup. And if something goes wrong, it’s you versus like twenty crackheads.”

Angelo rubbed his chin. This was certainly a pickle. “I see your point…” After a moment more of thought, Angelo shook his head. “But this is too big to pass up. Corsetti is working with our rat. This might be our only chance to prove it.” Angelo returned to Sam and fished out a business card. “Here. Next time you see anything, I want you to text me.”

“Do I get money?” Sam asked. From the look on Frankie’s face, it was taking everything in him not to strangle his nephew.

“Tell you what,” said Angelo, “you help me find out who’s showing up there, and I can get you and your friends into the Golden Palace.”

Sam’s eyes lit up in total defiance of his normal teenage apathy. “For real? You can do that?”

“Read the card.” Sam’s jaw hit the floor, and he bounced from the card to Angelo, as if to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. “So what do you say? Are we in business?” He held out his hand. Sam stood and shook it eagerly.

Angelo and Ernie left Frankie’s warehouse soon after, and jumped into Angelo’s car. While Angelo had a spring in his step, Ernie wasn’t nearly as excited about the prospect. “So what now? We wait till the pothead texts you, you run over and get shot in the face?”

“Since when are you so cautious?”

“Since Alex Corsetti started showing up like a f*****g peacock that’s when.”

“Look, my father wants me to find the rat. I know that Corsetti leads me to my man. This is the best chance I have for finally nabbing the bastard.” Angelo started the car as rain began to drum along the roof. “I can’t wait to see the look on Gio’s snobby f*****g face.” Throwing the car into gear, Angelo drove out of the lot and into the city streets.

“So where to now?” asked Ernie. “Back to the house?”

“Not quite.” Sitting in traffic, Angelo pulled out his phone. “If I come at Pops head on, he’ll just double down. We need some reinforcement.” Hitting a number, he let it dial and ring through the speakers of his car. It wasn’t long before Nikki picked up on the other line.

“What?”

“Hey, how much do you wanna be my most favorite person in the world?”

“Oh my God just tell me what you want.”

“I need you to convince Pop to strike up a meeting with the Corsettis to discuss the truce.”

“The Corsettis? Why?”

“Just trust me on this. It has to do with our rat.”

“You know Pops won’t want to get them involved—”

“Which is why I’m asking you, my beloved, kind, understanding sister. Pop can’t resist saying yes to his little girl.”

“Shove it, Ange. I’m not going to bat for you unless I know the details.”

“Fine. I got a hunch that Alex is working with our rat, and I have a feeling he’s doing it without Aldo’s blessing. We handle it diplomatically, it might solve a lot of our problems.”

Nikki paused on the other line. “You sure about this?”

“Like ninety-nine point nine percent”

“And the other point one?”

“Let’s just say I’m working on it.”

Nikki hesitated. “If you’re wrong about this, I’m never doing you another favor for as long as I live.”

“Appreciate it. Oh, and Nik? One more thing. If you can manage it, try not to let Gio know what you’re asking.”

“Are you shitting me—?”

“Please promise me. We gotta handle this right or we’re sunk. Please.”

“Fine. But you know Pop will tell him the moment they’re alone.”

“Unavoidable. Just make sure he doesn’t know beforehand.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“M’kay, bye, love you, kiss kiss!”

“Bite me.”

* * * *

The Chamber was not an easy place to find. Hidden away from polite society, most people had no idea about the dark alley that wound its way to a heavy steel door, nor the ongoing hedonism behind it. More often than not, any new face that found themselves at The Chamber’s door did so at the behest of a regular. Which was for the best; b**m dungeons weren’t exactly equipped for the casual, coffee shop crowd.

Finishing his cigarette, Angelo took the narrow, concrete steps down to the front facade. A single light bulb in an old style tin shade highlighted the threshold. There wasn’t even a plaque announcing its name. Angelo knocked casually, and waited around for an answer. An eye plate slid open. Angelo smiled at the shadowed bouncer within, and it shut again. Soon after, the door creaked loudly open, and the bouncer extended an arm, welcoming Angelo inside. Angelo nodded in greeting, and vanished down the dark staircase to The Chamber’s front room.

There were rumors that the dungeon was once a bomb shelter during the Cold War. It certainly ran with that kind of end of the world aesthetic. The bar was made of fiberglass and steel, with vestigial pipes acting as banisters between the stools. A few long, curving couches made up the center area, which was slightly depressed by a few steps. Everything was lit by colorful neon, and overhead, club music thumped like a heartbeat. Iron rivets ran up the walls and along the ceiling, some of the tables looking like cobbled together hunks of scrap metal. And of course, in the very back, were hallways, illuminated with bright, red lights. The back rooms.

As Angelo stepped inside, a few familiar faces smiled and waved. The bartender, a deliciously gay man with n****e piercings, seemed eager to spot him, and wiggled his fingers. Angelo felt eyes turn as he walked further in. Even some of the patrons that he didn’t know most certainly knew him. Nothing he wasn’t used to.

“Angel? Is that you?”

Angelo brightened as a friendly voice caught his attention. A handsome couple sat at the foot of the bar, enjoying their cocktails. The one who spoke waved Angelo over. She was short, dark, and round, and wore a leather underbust corset. Electrical tape X-ed out her n*****s. Her partner was tall and darker still, with twists kept in a tasteful knot behind their head. They were dressed less eccentrically, though they kept a firm hold on the end of their girlfriend’s leash. Angelo kissed them both on the cheek in greeting.

“Where have you been?” she demanded. “We haven’t seen you for months!”

“Sorry, Pixie,” said Angelo. “Work has been killing me lately.”

“Well sit down! Me and Jess only just got started.” The minute Angelo took his seat, the bartender approached, tucking his rag into his back pocket. It wasn’t often that dungeons sold alcohol, but seeing as that the Chamber was an exclusive club, there was tighter control on the clientele, helping to avoid most incidents in the playrooms.

“There’s my Angel,” the bartender purred. “Open a tab for you?”

Angelo handed the bartender his credit card. “How’s it been, Billy? You’re looking great.”

“Oh please.” Billy the bartender went to the POS to start Angelo’s tab, waving off his compliment. “My fat ass has been jiggling all week.”

“What, all two percent of it?”

“Hush.”

Billy poured Angelo a glass of scotch, but couldn’t stay long. With more patrons to serve, Angelo, Pixie and Jess were left to chat. Pixie turned on her stool, one knee high platform boot over the other. “Okay, spill it. Work or no work, you’ve never been away for so long.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” said Angelo.

But Jess nodded. “It is,” they said calmly. “The last time we saw you was Halloween. Remember?”

Angelo racked his brain over another sip of scotch. “Damn, I guess you’re right. Well, I’m here now. And the night is young.” From the back rooms, the sound of a cracking whip and a howl took away Angelo’s attention momentarily. He smiled over his liquor. “I’ve been needing to let loose. I’ve been going to bed alone too much lately. It’s unacceptable.”

Jess finished their vodka soda and pushed the empty glass away. “Don’t tell me you’re in a slump?”

Angelo shrugged. “I just haven’t had the time.”

“Hm.” Pixie, leaning forward on the bar, scrunched up her cute button nose and peered at Angelo through her giant, false eyelashes. “I don’t buy it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“In the five-ish years you’ve been coming here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you ‘too busy.’”

“First time for everything,” Angelo said.

But Pixie wasn’t convinced. “It’s gotta be something else,” she insisted. “Don’t tell me somebody’s got you locked down.” Angelo took a long drink, and Pixie lit up like fireworks. “Oh my God…no!”

“Wait, really?” Jess leaned over Pixie’s shoulder. “Hold on, are you serious?”

“Guys, chill,” Angelo laughed, holding up his hand. “I’m not…No. Nobody’s got me ‘locked down.’”

“Oh yeah?” Pixie waggled a large, acid-green acrylic nail in his direction. “But there is somebody, isn’t there? Tell me I’m wrong.” Angelo floundered, and Pixie rounded to Jess in victory. “I knew it. I knew it.”

“Look, it’s not like that,” Angelo finally admitted. He drummed his fingers on the bar, wondering how he should word it. “I…There is someone…new…in my life, yes. But it’s not what you think.”

“Uh-huh.” Pixie propped her chin in her hand. “Let me guess. You found yourself a vanilla?”

Angelo smiled woefully. “Something like that,” he said.

“So? What are they like?” Jess pried.

“She’s…nice.”

“Nice?” Pixie balked. “That’s all you got for us? ‘Nice’?”

“I mean…Yes, she’s nice. But she’s…You know when you meet a person and you immediately want to keep them in a bubble for their own good?”

“Uh-oh,” said Jess. “What, is she some lost lamb?”

“To a T,” said Angelo. “Jumpy, doe-eyed, mousy, the whole nine yards. She’s even a book worm.”

“She sounds cute,” said Pixie.

“She’s f*****g adorable.” Angelo finished his drink and shook his head. “Every time I talk to her, it’s like she’s this little ball of light. Like Tinkerbell or something. The first time I saw her cry it was like my heart was breaking into a million tiny pieces. She’s so genuine about everything. And her cooking…Holy s**t, even the leftovers she makes are delicious. Not to mention, she might be vanilla, but I think there’s some nuts hidden in there somewhere. I doubt she’s ever been introduced to the lifestyle, but I’ve got this feeling that she’d take to it like that.” Angelo snapped. “The girl’s a textbook sub. It’s unreal.”

“Pretty sure you can find a sub who could make you a sandwich,” said Jess. “Come on, what’s the deal?”

Angelo’s smile softened, and he rested his arms on the bar top. “The short of it is, she’s in my life due to some unfortunate circumstances. Making a move of any kind would be…what do the kids say? A bad look?”

“Ah.” Jess nodded knowingly. “That’s a tough spot.”

“Still, she sounds sweet,” said Pixie kindly. “Maybe if circumstances change…?”

“Maybe.” Angelo got off his stool and straightened out his coat. “Right. Time to stretch my legs…” Angelo c****d an eyebrow at Pixie. He held out his hand. “Care to join me for round one?”

Pixie, grinning ear to ear, turned around to Jess and leaned into them. “Can I go play with Angel? Pretty pretty please?”

Jess smiled and kissed her nose. “Don’t be gone too long, Princess.” They handed Angelo Pixie’s leash, and she jumped off her stool.

“I promise!”

“I’ll bring her back in one piece,” Angelo joked. With a playful tug at her collar, Angelo walked Pixie to the back rooms, and claimed the first open door they found.