The street looked bleak under a gray sky. Branches on barren trees looked like old gnarled fingers and the small gardens in front of the row houses seemed desolate.
Dan was wearing his heavy winter uniform and thick-soled shoes. “Joe, right?” the mailman asked. “I remember you. You’re Nunzio’s kid, right?”
“Nah, you’re thinking about my cousin, Pasquale.”
“Pasquale?”
“Yeah, Pasquale. He’s my second cousin on my mother’s side. We kinda look alike.”
Dan rubbed his chin. “My memory isn’t as good as it used to be but I don’t remember a guy named Pasquale. Who were his parents?”
“He’s Freddy’s and Vera’s kid. They lived over on Nineteenth Avenue, by the high school.”
“Yeah, I remember Freddy, but who was Vera? I can’t picture her. I thought Freddy was married to Phyllis.”
“That was his first wife. Remember he had that hot little number renting out the basement apartment?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Trust me, you’d remember Vera—redhead, beehive hairdo, big set a cans. She used to wear go-go boots like Judy Carne from Laugh-In.”
“Judy Carne? The ‘Sock it to me!’ girl?”
“Yeah. Looked a little like her too.”
“Ah, now I remember her. She had an ass that moved up and down like shifting sacks of mail. That was this Pasquale’s mother?”
“Yeah. Freddy worked days and Phyllis worked nights at the phone company. He used to sneak down to see Vera when Phyllis was at work. Next thing you know…Vera’s got a bun in the oven and Phyllis is yesterday’s news.”
“Huh? I always wondered what happened to Phyllis. So Pasquale was that hot little number’s kid?”
“Yeah.”
“And he looks like you?” Dan’s expression saying, The poor fucker—what the hell happened to him? “So who are your folks?”
“I’m Rocco and Mary’s kid. Mom and Dad are in Florida now. I’m Vinny’s older brother.”
His expression brightened. “Vinny Bag O’ Donuts?”
Joe nodded. “Yeah, everyone knows Vin.”
“He used to keep me in stitches, your brother. Always clowning around.”
“Yeah, that’s Vinny.”
“I remember he was good in the boxing ring. How come he never pursued that?”
“He fucked up his wrist and that was that. The docs told him he couldn’t box no more.” He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know a guy by the name of Bald Louie, would you?”
“Bald Louie what? I’m in the family name business. In case you haven’t figured it out yet I don’t have Madonna, Prince, or Beyoncé on my route.”
Joe gritted his teeth. “I don’t know his last name, Dan. All I got to go by is Bald Louie.”
“Joe, my boy, do you have any idea how many people named Louis I have on my route? Is there a distinctive way he spells his name, like L-E-W-I-S? Because I’ve only got one of those.”
“I don’t know how he spells his goddamn name. All I know is that he got out of the slammer about six months ago.” He saw that the wheels had begun to turn in Dan’s head. “What? You know something?”
He averted his eyes.
“Come on, Dan, this is important.”
“I’m not sure I can help you.”
“Why not?”
“It’s a federal offense. It could cost me my job and I’m almost ready to retire. I just can’t throw away thirty-five years of shoe leather.”
“Who’s gonna know, Dan? Just whisper it in my ear. No one will know, and I’ll take it with me to my grave.”
He shook his head. “I can’t.” He grabbed the handle of his cart and began pushing it away. “I’m sorry. I wish I could—”
Joe called after him. “Are you sure? It’s for Vinny.”
Dan slowed and came to a stop.
Joe saw an opening and went straight for the jugular. “It could mean the difference between an innocent kid getting life in prison, and not.”
“Shit!”
Joe sensed that Dan was conflicted. He’d sold used cars at one time and knew the power of the presumptive close. He leaned in close and tapped his earlobe. “Whisper it in here,” he said. “That’s all you gotta do.”
***
Joe followed Dan from a distance of half a block back until he turned onto the avenue and entered the lobby of an apartment building on his route. He waited a few minutes and followed him in.
Dan had a bundled stack of letters in his hand. He held it so that the name and apartment number on the top envelope was exposed and visible. The letter was addressed to Louis Rolfe from the New York State Department of Corrections.
Joe had cased the building’s interior on his way in—no security cameras. Aside from Joe and Dan, the lobby was empty. Despite this, he winked at Dan inconspicuously and continued up the stairs in silence.
Three flights. Four flights. Five. The six-flight climb had winded him and he needed a moment to catch his breath. Leaning against the wall he could see the apartment he was looking for and pushed on.
His fist was the size of a catcher’s mitt. He pounded on the door like a sledgehammer, the vibrations causing dry plaster from around the doorframe to fracture and fall. He could sense he was being watched through peepholes from behind closed doors but no one dared to step out into the hallway. He pounded away at the door until he decided Bald Louie was either not at home or had no intention of answering. His shoulders settled in a heap. In a last-ditch effort, he reached down and twisted the doorknob. His eyes grew wide and his spirit rallied. “Well, look at that.”
Chapter Forty-Eight: Suck Wind
Lisa awoke late morning to find Vinny sitting in a chair next to the bed, reading, or trying to. She yawned and stretched until her long fingernails clicked lightly against the headboard. “Whatcha readin’?” She rubbed her eyes and yawned again.
“I’m trying to read this book about jury selection strategy but the print—it looks like the whole page is swirling around.”
“Your dyslexia, huh? Did you ever have that particular symptom before?”
“Sometimes,” he said. “When there’s a lot of small print on a big page, like in this book.”
“Let me just go to the bathroom. I’ll help you with it.”
“No, that’s okay. I wanna try to do it myself.”
“By yourself? You’re trying to do it by yourself right now. How’s that working out for you? The words are spinning round and round like they’re caught in a twister and your forehead is wrinkled up like a sun-dried prune. There’s no shame in being dyslexic, Vinny. It’s not like you’re a child molester or something. Just how long you gonna have that chip on your shoulder?” She hopped out of bed and hurried into the bathroom. “The friggin’ floor is ice cold in here,” she called out. “We gotta get a floor mat for the bathroom…So what about it? Can I help you with your reading or not?”
The phone rang before he could answer her. He picked it up. “Yeah?”
“Mr. Gambini?”
“Yeah. Who’s this?”
“It’s Anita Relise with the Sixty-Ninth Precinct.”
“Seriously?”
“Yes. Can you hear me? This is Anita Relise with the Six-nine.”
He covered the receiver. “Hey, Lisa,” he said. “We got another one. It’s I. Need. A. Release from the Sixty-Ninth Precinct,” he laughed. “Watch this.”
“Ain’t you learned your lesson? Don’t make the same mistake you made with Detective Parikh, sticking your foot in your mouth the way you did.”
“Yeah, yeah, all right,” he complained before uncovering the receiver. “How can I help you?”
“Joseph Gambini is on his way to central booking and he asked us to advise you of same.”
“Joe’s on his way to central booking? Seriously?”
“Yes. Seriously. Do you know the address?”
“Yeah, I’ve been there before.” He
heard an odd poof-poof sound. “What’s going on over there, dear? You all right?’
“COPD,” she groaned. The poof-poof sound returned followed by a slight gasp. “I’m using my Formoterol pump.”
Vinny covered the receiver again, A Ford motor oil pump? “Hey, Lisa, I really think this is a prank call. You ever hear of a Ford motor oil pump helping someone breathe?”
“Vinny, what the hell are you talking about?” she asked. “That ain’t a thing.”
“Ah. Never mind.” He uncovered the receiver. “This Ford motor oil pump got anything to do with Joe getting arrested? He get nabbed for parting out cars or something?”
“No,” she laughed. “I didn’t say a Ford motor oil pump. I said a Formoterol pump. It’s an inhaler. It helps me breathe, Mr. Gambini.”
“So this is for real then? Joe really got arrested?”
“Yes, Mr. Gambini. That’s what I told you in the first place.”
Chapter Forty-Nine: At the Crack of…
Vinny thought about racing down to the court in his sweats, but the browbeating he’d taken from Judge Molloy was still fresh in his mind. His suit needed to be pressed but it was the best he could do on short notice. He yanked it off the hanger and began to get dressed.
Lisa entered the bathroom and reemerged twenty minutes later looking immaculately groomed—as neat as a pin. “What happened to your suit? You didn’t throw it in the washer, did you?”
“Of course not. I guess it needs to be cleaned.”
“You think?” She sighed and held out her hand. “Give it to me. You can’t go into court looking like a homeless person—I’ll press the fuckin’ thing.”
***
Joe had already been processed by central booking and was awaiting his arraignment when Vinny and Lisa arrived. Vinny spotted his brother and hurried over without taking the time to open the case file.
“What did you do this time, Joe?” Lisa said. “Ya flash a nun this time? Walk into a church with your fly open?”
“Easy, Lisa. Give him a chance to speak,” Vinny said as he eyed the familiar face of Judge Temperance Finch processing a case from up on the bench. “You’re kind of making a habit of this, Joe. What’s going on?”
“I was looking for a guy.”
“What guy?”
“Your guy. Bald Louie.”
“You found him?” Vinny asked.
“No. But I found where he lives. The place was empty.”
“Shit. When you say ‘empty’ do you mean completely empty or just partially empty?”
“What do you mean?” Joe asked.
“Did it look like someone was living there?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“But you got no idea where Bald Louie went?”
“None, Vinny.
“Could it be that he just wasn’t there when you paid him a visit?”
Joe shrugged. “I guess so.”
“I see…so, before the case is called…how’d you get pinched?”
“One of the neighbors must’ve seen me pounding on Bald Louie’s door. I guess they called the cops.”
Vinny opened the file and located the charge. “Joe, exactly how’d you get into Bald Louie’s apartment?”
“I walked in. The door was open.”
“Was it opened or just unlocked?”
“Before or after I turned the doorknob?”
Vinny rolled his eyes. “Before, Joe. Before.”
“Closed.”
“It says here that the arresting officer found you in the apartment rented by someone named Louis Rolfe—I guess that’s Bald Louie. You’re charged with criminal trespass, a Class B misdemeanor.”
“What’s that mean, Vin?”
“It’s—” Vinny’s mouth was wide open and about to answer when Joe’s case was called.
“What are you gonna do?” Joe asked.
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something.”
Judge Finch studied the complaint while the court officer read the summary charge. She looked up and shook her head. “Always a pleasure to have the Gambini boys in my court.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
“I was being facetious, Mr. Gambini. This is turning into a regular Laurel and Hardy routine. Mr. Gambini. How does your client plead?”
The tough love lesson from the other day was still fresh in Vinny’s mind. He stood up straight and tall. “Not guilty, Your Honor.”
“Mr. Doucette, do the people request remand?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” he replied. “This is the second time in mere weeks that the accused has been brought before the court.” He turned to Vinny and mouthed, “Sorry.”
“Anything to add before I rule on bail, Mr. Gambini?”
“Yes, Your Honor. The accused was merely trying to locate Mr. Rolfe. He was carrying no burglar’s tools, nor was he carrying any lethal weapons and entered the premises without criminal intent. The door was unlocked and he entered just to make sure that Mr. Rolfe wasn’t dead or nothin’. He was merely carrying out the duties of a concerned citizen. I’m standing before you, his brother, so you know he has ties to the community. We respectfully request that the accused be released on his own recognizance, Your Honor.”
“You’ve become quite a refined orator, but I’m not sure which Mr. Gambini I prefer.”
Vinny seemed puzzled. “Um…what do you mean, Your Honor?”
“I’m not sure whether I prefer the lawyer I met last week or the one who has evolved into such a polished ass kisser he takes my breath away.”
Vinny struggled for a comeback but couldn’t think of one.
DA Gold had just entered the courtroom and was whispering in Doucette’s ear.
“Your Honor,” Doucette said. “May we approach?”
“Okay,” she replied, seeming puzzled by the request.
“What’s this all about?” Vinny asked as he stood before the bench.
“Your Honor, this is a nuisance case—likely a misunderstanding,” Doucette said. “The people would like to dismiss the complaint, if that’s all right with you.”
Vinny blurted, “No shit! Um…I mean really?”
Judge Finch grinned. “There’s the guy I know and like so much. Are you sure you want to dismiss, Mr. Doucette?”
“If it’s okay with you, Your Honor.”
“Hell yes, it is—one less case for me to preside over? Are you kidding?” She made a notation on the file before turning to Vinny. “Mr. Gambini, you’re starting to grow on me, but the next time you appear before me, it better not be to defend any siblings, relatives of any kind, friends, or acquaintances. Is that clear?”
“Absolutely, Your Honor.”
“Not even someone you bumped into in the elevator. You know what they say about three strikes, don’t you?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Good. Because the next time I see your brother Joe in here, I’m going to throw the book at him. I don’t care if he was arrested for failure to share a square of toilet paper in a public restroom.” She leaned forward, her eyes blazing into his. “You hear me, Counselor?”
“Yes, Your Honor. Thanks. Is that it?”
“That’s it.” She was still smiling as she waved goodbye. “See you around, Mr. Gambini.”
Vinny turned to Joe and made a ta-da gesture, his arms out from the elbows, his palms face up. “How’d you like them apples?”
“Thanks, Vin,” Joe said, giving him a celebratory hug.
“No problem.” Vinny grabbed his briefcase. When he turned around, he saw Joe trudging away just as his pants fell to the floor.
As he stared at his brother’s butt crack he heard Judge Finch’s derisive comment, “Perfect. That’s absolutely perfect.”
Lisa pulled out her camera and snapped a picture before turning to Vinny. “Hall of fame collection?”
He was still shaking his head in disbelief. “Oh yeah…without a fuckin’ doubt!”
Chapter Fifty: Favor of the Month
Lis
a covered her eyes out of sheer embarrassment as Joe bent over to yank up his pants. “The hell is wrong with you, Joe?” she asked the moment they were out of the courtroom.
“It wasn’t my fault. They took my belt away when I was in lockup and lost it. I guess my pants are a little loose.”
“Imagine that,” she said and gave her head a disbelieving shake. “And what’s with those eyesore boxers you’re wearing? Half of your ass was uncovered.”
“I guess the waistband is a little worn out.”
Vinny caught up with them and smacked Joe on the butt. “Nice cheeks, big boy. I think the judge wants to ask you out on a date.”
“For real?”
“No, Joe. Not for real. Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me? Now every time I’m in that courtroom, the judge will be looking at me but she’ll be thinking about your big, hairy ass. I’ll be the laughing stock of the Brooklyn court system.”
“Sorry, Vin, but like I told Lisa, they took my belt.”
“And my dignity,” Vinny said.
“Ease up,” Lisa said. “It’s not as if you’re Clarence-fuckin’-Darrow. So Joe dropped trou, so what? You think the judge doesn’t see a hundred wackos every day? She’ll get over it.”
“Yeah. Whatever.” He saw DA Gold leaving court. “Don’t go nowhere. I’ll be right back.” He hurried to catch up with Gold who was galloping down the steps to the main floor. “Morty,” he called. “Hey, wait up.”
“What’s with your brother, Gambini?” Gold asked. “For some reason the two of you seemed to have arrived on the legal scene at exactly the same time.”
“Thanks for what you did back there, Morty. I know it was you who told Doucette to cut Joe a break. You know, he’s really pretty harmless. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
“That won’t keep him out of jail the next time he drops his pants or gets caught breaking and entering.”
“I got it, and…thanks. I’ll make sure it don’t happen again.”
“I can only do so many favors for you, Gambini. I trust you won’t need another one in the near future.”
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