Back to Brooklyn

by Lawrence Kelter

  “Stable for a stripper,” Doucette wisecracked.

  Whorhatz cut him down with a stare. “Take it like a man, Mr. Doucette…Continue, Mr. Gambini.”

  “As I said, Ms. Cototi has a stable job history and we can document her reported income. She pined away for seven long years, waiting for Samuel Cipriani to get out of jail and paid him frequent visits while he was incarcerated.” He’d been on a roll but realized that he’d run out of ammunition. “I think that more than proves her dedication and devotion to the victim, and ask that a reasonable bail amount be set…that’s it.”

  Whorhatz scribbled a note. “Thank you, Mr. Gambini. I’m looking forward to seeing more of you in my courtroom.” He leaned back in his chair. “While I agree with the defense attorney that the defendant is not a scamp nor a tax cheat and that she remained devout to Mr. Cipriani while he was incarcerated, this is a capital murder offense. Bail is set at five million dollars.”

  Vinny was aghast by what he considered to be an excessive bail amount. His mouth fell practically to his knees. “Five million dollars?” he muttered. “Why didn’t you just make it a billion?”

  Whorhatz narrowed his eyes. “Did you say something, Mr. Gambini?”

  Panicked, he replied, “Um…I’m famished, Your Honor, and I was thinking about what I should get to eat once I’m done with court…and I said to myself, huh, how about Brazilian? I mean I ain’t had a good Brazilian meal in a seriously long time.”

  “Is that right?” Whorhatz asked skeptically. He banged his gavel. “I’ll hear preliminary arguments this coming Monday at nine-thirty a.m. Next case!”

  Chapter Twenty-Five: Ma?

  The sun was rising as they trudged up the stairs to the house. Vinny’s legs were so tired and rubbery they could barely carry him. Lisa stood alongside him with her eyes closed as he slipped the key into the lock and turned it. They heard the clatter of pots and pans as the door opened.

  Vinny shrugged. “Ma?”

  Lisa’s reaction was identical. “Ma?”

  “Finally. I thought maybe they threw the two of you in the hoosegow along with Vinny’s client,” Ma said as she unpacked one of several grocery bags.

  “That’s not funny, Ma,” Lisa said as she dragged her weary body into the kitchen and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “Well, after all the trips he made to the state jail when he was in Alabama…I figured maybe he learned to like it.”

  Vinny sneered at her comically before favoring her with a kiss of his own. He glanced around at the shopping bags. “So what are you doing with all this here stuff?”

  She playfully bonked him on the forehead with the heel of her hand. “What does it look like I’m doing. I figured you’d both be hungry and tired. I bought a few things so that I could make you breakfast.”

  “A few things?” he asked. “Did you say a few things?”

  “What do you want from me?” she asked dryly. “They had a big sale.”

  “A big sale?” Lisa asked. “You got enough stuff here to feed all the homeless people in Bensonhurst. Who else is coming for breakfast?”

  “Lay off me, would ya, Lisa. Where’s it written that a mother can’t give her daughter a little help once in a while. You kids have been away for months. Your poor fiancé, he’s been living off grits and ham hocks so long he’d probably squeal if I poked him. When’s the last time he had a good dish of spaghetti?”

  “A couple of nights ago, Ma.” Lisa folded her arms waiting for a snappy comeback.

  She seemed surprised. “Really? My daughter the grease monkey pulled her head out from under a car chassis long enough to make a nice home-cooked meal?” She pinched Lisa’s cheek. “That’s my girl. Why don’t the two of you go wash up? I’ll whip up some bacon and eggs and have it ready for you by the time you come back.”

  “I don’t even have the strength to lift the fork to my mouth,” Vinny said. “I just want to go upstairs and get in bed. I have to meet a client at ten then head over to Rikers Island to talk to the woman that was arraigned last night. I got barely enough time to grab a catnap and get showered, shaved, and dressed.” He rested his weary head on hers. “Next time, okay?” he asked before turning and ambling off.

  “What about French toast?” she shouted. “I stopped at the kosher bakery and got a fresh challah.”

  Vinny waved bye without looking and headed up the stairs.

  “What about you?” Ma turned to Lisa. “Want some of your mother’s special French toast?”

  “You want to make French toast? That’s good with me. I’ll help.”

  “Nonsense.” She shooed Lisa away. “I made fresh coffee. Pour yourself a cup and talk to me while I beat the eggs.”

  Lisa yawned and trudged over to the coffee pot, peeking into the grocery bags along the way. “Thanks for buying all these groceries, Ma. I’ve picked up a few things since we got back but I haven’t had time to do a big shopping.”

  “But you had time to rebuild the valve train on the Caddy.”

  “What? You saying I ain’t gonna make Vinny a good wife or something? Vinny was gonna fix the Caddy himself but I told him to go get some cases. We spent almost everything we had when we were in Alabama. We ain’t got five cents between us.”

  “I understand. Trust me, honey. I know that you can’t live without money. I’m just saying…”

  “What? Saying what?”

  “Well when your father and I got married, I used to get up at six in the morning on Sunday to make him fresh sauce with meatballs, sausage, and braciole. We’d have the whole family over and I mean aunts, uncles, and cousins…even the ones I didn’t care for like pain-in-the-ass Aunt Mathilda. We’d eat from three o’clock in the afternoon until ten, and I’d bake Italian cookies and cheesecake for dessert.”

  “Oh yeah? How are you at rebuilding an engine?”

  Ma showed the back of her hand. “Don’t get wise. Vinny’s job is to make a good living for the two of you and your job is to keep him happy.”

  “Oh really? That’s a very enlightened perspective you have. Times have changed, Ma. How about if we both make money and we both keep each other happy?”

  “Bah, that only works in theory. For crying out loud—why do you think so many couples are getting divorced these days? The man goes out to work and the woman stays home with the kids. That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

  “So what you’re saying is it’s a woman’s job to cook, shop, clean the house, do the laundry, raise the kids, and fuck her husband senseless.”

  “Whoa! Language.” She sprinkled cinnamon into the beaten eggs and added a splash of cream. “You can’t argue with success, Lisa. You know what they say about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach.”

  “Believe me,” Lisa began in a cynical tone. “Anyone who believes that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach has a shitty sense of direction. Besides, Ma, we ain’t even married yet and the way things are going…” She frowned.

  Her mother dropped the whisk and hurried over to her. “Oh no. What’s wrong, Lisa? Is he seeing other women? While I’ll—”

  “Vinny?” She smirked and her eyes went wide. “Ma. No. Please. Vinny doesn’t know other women exist. It’s just that…”

  Ma covered her mouth. “Don’t tell me he’s got a wet noodle.”

  Lisa hacked out a laugh. “Now you’re embarrassing me.”

  “What then?”

  Lisa looked into her mother’s eyes and then off into the distance. “Vinny’s not romantic. I mean I know he loves me and all but he’s got no idea of how to show it.”

  She thought for a moment. “Maybe you need to try new things. You know…in the bedroom.”

  “Ma! There’s a difference between sex and romance. Vinny doesn’t have any performance issues. It’s just that he treats me like…”

  Ma seemed confused. “Like what?”

  “Well, like one of the guys. He don’t bring me flowers or say sweet things. It’s not that he don’
t care for me, he just doesn’t understand what he’s supposed to do. The man is fuckin’ clueless.”

  “This got anything to do with his dyslexia?”

  “No, Ma. He’s just not sentimental. He doesn’t get the reason for candlelit dinners and walks along the beach. It just ain’t in him.”

  “So what are you going to do about it? You can’t wait until he gets set in his ways.”

  Lisa blew out a sigh. “I don’t know. And right now he’s so worried about his career and making a living…well it just ain’t a good time.”

  “I thought the two of you were going to get married right after Vinny won his first case.”

  “That was the plan. Yeah. He proposed to me you know. We were driving back and he said, ‘I thought we’d get married this weekend.’”

  “And what did you say?” she asked excitedly.

  “I told him I wanted a real wedding. You know, a church wedding.”

  She sighed. “You’ve got some soul searching to do, Lisa. A man is either romantic or he’s not. If you love Vinny, you have to decide if he’s good enough for you just the way he is.”

  “Or what’s the alternative?” she asked.

  “Or you move on.”

  “Move on? I love him. I don’t want to move on.”

  Ma shrugged. “Then I think you just answered your own question.”

  Lisa looked unsettled. “Yeah, I don’t know. Like you said, I have to do some soul searching.” She took a sip of coffee. “By the way…” She took a deep breath. “Not to change the subject but I think Dad is getting worse.”

  She pressed a thick slice of challah bread into the egg batter until it was fully saturated, then dropped it in the skillet. There was a tear in her eye when she looked up. “He’s been fighting me, tooth and nail, Lisa. Did you tell him he’s got to go to the doctor?”

  “Oh I told him all right. I told him I was going to make an appointment for him if he didn’t do it on his own.”

  “Do you think he’ll go? You know how strong willed he is.”

  She took another sip of coffee. “He’ll go, even if I have to drag him there by the scruff of his neck.” She placed her coffee mug firmly on the counter. “Speaking of which…where did I put the phonebook? I’m gonna make him an appointment right now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six: You Want to Ask Me Some Questions?

  Vinny was groggy as he lumbered into the rented office he’d secured for his meeting with Hercules Lopez. He was functioning on two hours of sleep and three cups of coffee. Unfortunately, multiple doses of the stimulant had given him the runs. He’d just come back from the men’s room when he heard Vanessa, the office receptionist, talking with Lopez as she escorted him down the hallway.

  She was a curvy girl wearing a sweater dress and pumps. Lopez followed her, taking full advantage of the view from the rear.

  “Aye, mami, you do this full time?” Lopez asked, his eyes all over her.

  “The name is Vanessa.”

  “Yeah, yeah, sorry. Vanessa, you’re a pretty girl. You want to make some extra cash?”

  She turned up her nose. “I don’t think so.”

  “Don’t say ‘no’ so fast. It’s a great opportunity.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Delivering packages. It’s part time work and it pays great.”

  “Packages? Do I look like a goddamn UPS man to you?”

  “No, no, mami. You got it all wrong.” He attempted to hand her his card. “Call me. I got a good opportunity for you. You can make up to sixty percent of the total invoice.”

  She stopped in her tracks, took the card, and grinned at him mockingly. “I go to law school in the evening but I’m sure your opportunity has that waste of time beat cold. Are you trying to tell me that all I have to do is deliver your packages and I get sixty percent of the total?”

  “That’s right.”

  “I don’t get it.”

  “Well, that’s because you’re going to have some expenses.”

  “Yeah? Like what?”

  “Wear and tear on your car. You drive, don’t you?”

  “Uh-huh. I’ve got a car. What else?”

  “Clothes.”

  “I’ve got clothes.”

  “Specific clothes.”

  “You mean like a uniform?”

  “More or less…mostly less,” he said under his breath.

  “Does that cover all of my overhead?”

  “You’ll need a doctor’s exam.”

  “Why? To prove I’m fit for work?”

  “Exactly. Actually all you need is a blood test.”

  “A blood test? Why?”

  “Just to make sure you don’t give nothing to nobody.”

  “I don’t get it. How can I not ‘give nothing to nobody’ if it’s my job to deliver packages? That’s redundant isn’t it?”

  “Don’t worry, mami. You’ll figure it out.”

  “Anything else?”

  “No. That covers it, Vanessa. I supply everything else. Call me. I’ll hook you up. You’ll make enough cash to put yourself through law school. Honest.”

  Vinny met them at the door and smiled when he saw that Lopez was still wearing a cervical collar. He offered his hand. “Hercules, thanks for coming in. Come right over here and have a seat.”

  They shook hands. “You’ve got a very sweet girl working for you, Mr. Gambini. She’s gold package material.” He turned to Vanessa with a big smile, put his thumb to his ear and his pinkie near his lips. “Call me, mami. I’ll show you the ropes.” He walked past Vinny and sat down at the desk.

  Vinny escorted her to the door.

  “Hey, is this legit?” Vanessa asked in a hushed whisper.

  Vinny had heard the entire pitch. His eyes went wide and he pointed his fingertips toward his throat, waving them back and forth in a desperate effort to convey his message. He mouthed, “Ixnay. Ixnay. Not a chance,” and shooed her away.

  She noted his cue and dashed off.

  Vinny drew a deep breath before closing the door and turning toward Lopez.

  “Your receptionist is one sweet little treat,” Lopez said. “You don’t mind if I help her out, do you?”

  Vinny walked around the desk and sat down. “You know I don’t think she’s gonna work out, Hercules.”

  “How come?”

  “She goes to the ENT all the time?”

  “The ENT?”

  “Yeah, the ear, nose, and throat doctor. She’s got a terrible gag reflex. Can’t even eat one of them baby carrots without tossing her cookies. I’m sorry.”

  Lopez seemed dubious. “For real?”

  Vinny nodded.

  “Man, that’s too bad. A big-boned girl like her…guys pay extra for that. She’d clean up.”

  “Yeah. Well…sorry. Anyway, I see you’re still wearing your collar. How are you feeling?”

  He grinned. “I’m feeling like you’re going to make me a rich man.” He reached into his jacket pocket for a folded piece of paper. “So, Mr. Gambini, if you don’t mind. Some of the girls thought I should ask you some questions before I hire you. That okay?”

  Vinny was taken aback. “Let me get this straight. Your employees think that you should voir dire me to ascertain if I’m qualified to handle your case? Is that right?”

  Lopez wrinkled his nose. “Voir what? Is that like being a voyeur? Because I ain’t calling you no peeping Tom.”

  “No, it don’t mean voyeur. It means that you want to question me to check out my qualifications.” Vinny leaned forward in his chair. “I mean that makes perfect sense—coming from your gold package call girls and all. I mean they must get voir dired all the time.” Vinny paused, then grinned. “Let’s see if I can guess what the girls get asked most often.” He rubbed his chin as if deep in thought. “Oh, here’s one. Do you have crabs and if so, do I have to buy a full dozen? Is half-and-half on the menu and is it ultra-pasteurized? Or my personal favorite—If I go around the world with you, how many mileage points do I get and
which airlines accept them?” Vinny folded his arms and gazed at Lopez defiantly. “How’d I do? Did I nail it? I wonder if Letterman ever did a top ten list of questions hookers gets asked before they put out.”

  “Gee, easy, man,” he showed his palms and apologized. “I didn’t know you’d take it personally. I just wanted to know if you’ve had any experience with this kind of case before and how it went?”

  “You want to know what kind of experience I’ve had? Not a problem, but before I answer you, maybe we should talk about who we’re actually going to sue.”

  Lopez turned his head askew. “I don’t get you.”

  “I’ve done some research and I’m not sure we have a case against the bank.”

  “We don’t?” Lopez asked, sounding confused. “Then what am I doing here?”

  “Our case, my hoe-peddling friend, is against the MTA, the New York subway system.”

  “Where’d you get that from?”

  “You see, Hercules, the grease you slipped on most likely came from a passing train on the el. The grease works its way out of the wheel hubs and falls to the ground below. Now, the law has been written in such a way as to protect the MTA from incidents just like this, but…” He raised a finger. “If we can prove that it was in fact grease from a passing train you slipped on, and that the routine maintenance on said subway cars was overdue, then we have cause to file a complaint on the basis of negligence, and that is a case I think we can win.”

  Lopez smiled. “That’s great. I friggin’ love you, Mr. Gambini. How do we prove it was train grease I slipped on?”

  He glanced at Lopez with a sly expression. “Do you still have the shoes you were wearing when you took that nasty spill?”

  “Yeah. Made a mess out of a new pair of Jordans.”

  “And by Jordans, do you mean basketball shoes?”

  “Yeah, why?”

  “And do these basketball shoes have grooved soles to assist with traction? Grooves in which some of that grease might still reside?”

  Lopez nodded happily.