Mob Lawyer 4

by Dave Daren

  “For one, we believe Sergeant Nelson assaulted you in the alley by your apartment,” Monroe pointed out. “Also, we believe that was in conjunction with the failed attempt on your boss’ life after the Chatel event. Are we getting warmer?”

  “My client hasn’t revealed any criminal acts that I need to discuss with you,” I hedged.

  “Relax, Counselor,” Hisashi chuckled. “We aren’t trying to pin the assault on him. We think Chatel sent his goons after Febbo for showing up to his little party. Anything that happened after that is self-defense, or at least something close to it.”

  “Then you’ll need to ask Mr. Lamon about it,” I said before I held up a finger. “But only with me present. As for any other corruption or scandals, I read the papers like everyone else, so I suppose I know about Chatel’s Serbian lovechild.”

  Part of me wanted to tell them everything we’d found when digging up the dirt on Chatel, but I knew not all the information gathering had been legal, and I wasn’t about to put Anthony on the hot seat for it. The feds would want to know who had hired the hacker, what all he’d found, and a million other questions I couldn’t answer without putting the brunt of the blame on my client. And then there was the small detail that if I ratted on the Serbians without enough info to get them arrested, I’d put my life in danger. It was time to end this conversation and fast.

  “You’re going to try to tell me you don’t know more than what the papers said?” Monroe gaped at me for a moment. “This is your big chance to spill the beans on that tool and all his buddies, and you’re not going to take it?”

  It seemed the rookie had read far too many secret agent novels. In real life, witnesses didn’t just burst at the seams with information at any opportunity. It was time to burst his annoying little bubble.

  “I defend people,” I scoffed. “If I investigate a crime, it’s to disprove the state’s case. Investigating ongoing crime is your thing, not mine.”

  “No one asked you to investigate,” Hisashi assured me. “We’re merely wondering if you’ve already come across information that would help us.”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you, agents,” I answered. “Is that all you needed from me?”

  “No, we need what you really know,” the rookie spat out. “Come on, Counselor. Just cut the crap already.”

  “I have other appointments to keep,” I said in an icy tone. “You have my card. Let me know if you need anything else that I can actually answer.”

  While Monroe stared at me with his mouth open, Hisashi pressed his into a thin line. He was the more seasoned agent, and he could probably tell I knew more than I was saying, but he also seemed to understand well enough that I wouldn’t say another word until I was good and ready.

  And I wouldn’t be ready until I talked to Anthony.

  I strode past the agents toward my car just as Hank lowered his hood and offered me a curt nod. He climbed into the Chrysler and reversed enough to let me out of my parking spot. I pushed the ignition button and took a few deep breaths while I went over my calendar. It was nearly four, so it was a good thing I hadn’t tried to make both court hearings today, but I was relieved to see nothing else planned for my day.

  I looked through my notifications and saw nothing yet from Anthony, so I sent him a quick text to let him know about Serafina.

  Davide case is dismissed.

  I hit send and wondered how to discuss the conversation I’d had with the feds. My client would obviously want to know about it, but I wasn’t sure if he’d be upset that I talked to them without consulting him first. Anthony was very particular, and even after a year of working for him, I didn’t have his complete trust. As I considered all the confrontations with Kroger last year, I wondered if anyone had his complete trust. Being a Mafia boss seemed to come with a few caveats, but I still had to find a way to discuss the feds’ conversation with him.

  Before I could decide, a text from Liz came through.

  Are you done yet?

  I started to respond, changed my mind, and hit the button to call her. She answered with the sound of a dozen honking horns in the background before a car door shut, and the cacophony of New York was muted.

  “Hey, how did it go?” she asked.

  “Got mine dismissed,” I answered. “How about you?”

  I could hear Liz shuffle around in the seat of the taxi as I put the car in drive and headed for the bridge that would take me away from Staten Island.

  “That’s probably the next step for this one,” she snorted. “The DA’s case is laughable. Micci is out on bail, and Judge Holmes told the snot-nosed ADA to basically get his shit together before the next date.”

  “Sounds like the one I just handled,” I said. “The evidence they had was a ‘pretty sure’ witness and a single fingerprint at my client’s favorite liquor store. I don’t know what they think they’re going to accomplish with these frivolous cases.”

  “Too bad we can’t prove harassment against one family without linking all the family,” Liz sighed. “That would almost be a slam-dunk at the rate the NYPD is going.”

  The idea of filing a lawsuit against the NYPD was not only tempting but even more terrifying than the one for Lombardi, but Liz was right. We would have to show a link between each of the arrested associates, and that link was the family business, which wasn’t exactly a legally operating business at the moment. Without proof the Serbians were using the police to make their own gains, all we would do is expose the mob family, and a slow, painful death wasn’t high on my to-do list.

  “I have a feeling Flores is pushing pretty hard to get Febbo associates arrested.” I frowned as I turned onto the bridge. “I’m just not sure if he’s the one we need to worry about or if he’s just a puppet.”

  “Could be both,” she pointed out. “Didn’t you say Webber is involved in some pretty nasty stuff?”

  “Yeah,” I confirmed. “For all I know right now, they’re playing the game together and lining their pockets. We have to find out more somehow, and we aren’t the only ones looking.”

  “What do you mean?” my co-counsel asked.

  “Feds showed up at the courthouse and cornered me,” I muttered. “They want to know what I know.”

  “What did you tell them?” she asked.

  “Nothing you couldn’t find in the news,” I said as I pursed my lips in thought. “I wonder why they’re trying to get it from me, though. They have resources we can only dream of, but they go to a lawyer for intel?”

  “Maybe they’re trying to get a subpoena,” she suggested. “If they have legit information from a credible source like you, a federal judge might be looking to sign off on something.”

  “Actually, that makes perfect sense,” I murmured. “They need more, but they have legal boundaries.”

  “And you don’t?” Liz chuckled.

  “Well, I do,” I insisted. “I just, ah, know a few people who don’t. That’s all.”

  “A few,” she snorted. “So, what about dinner? I’m craving Greek.”

  “A gyro does sound good,” I sighed. “How about--”

  My phone beeped as another call came through. I looked down at the infotainment screen to see Anthony’s name, and I told Liz to hold on while I switched over.

  “When were you going to tell me?” Anthony demanded without preamble.

  “Tell you…” I trailed off before I cleared my throat and started over. “Ah, about the feds? I texted you, but you haven’t replied yet. I figured it’d be better to talk about it in person.”

  “I don’t like hearing shit from Hank,” my client said darkly. “Don’t do that again. When can you get here?”

  “I just got off the bridge from Staten Island,” I explained as I looked around. “Maybe an hour or so?”

  “I’ll have Katarina start on dinner,” he grumbled.

  “Ah, I was supposed to have dinner with Liz,” I started to argue then thought better of it. “Do you mind if she joins us? She can tell
you about the Micci case.”

  “Yeah, bring her,” Anthony agreed before he hung up.

  I returned to Liz’s call and told her the new dinner plan.

  “So much for Greek,” she laughed. “It’s okay. I like Italian food, too. Besides, it feels like ages since I had a good home-cooked meal.”

  “Gulia started cooking dinners again,” I noted with a smile. “She was inspired by that trip to Italy. You have no idea what you’re in for.”

  And I had a feeling I didn’t, either. Not because I hadn’t tasted Gulia’s stellar cooking, but because I could feel Anthony’s fury even through the phone. He was pissed I’d talked to the agents without telling him first, but I knew I had a good reason for my choice. He had hired me to protect him from false charges, and I was doing everything I could to maintain that protection, even if it meant putting myself between him and the FBI. I just had to convince him it was the best choice for him, too.

  “Are you picking me up?” Liz’s voice snapped me back to the present.

  “Yep, your place?” I asked.

  “I’m almost there now,” she answered. “See you soon.”

  I cranked up the local rock station as I drove north until I reached Brooklyn and took the exit ramp near Liz’s apartment. By the time I pulled up outside, she was already hustling out the front door and climbed into my car. She’d changed from the tight blue dress into red slacks and a white blouse that was unbuttoned just enough to reveal the perfect amount of cleavage.

  “Ready?” I asked once I’d tamped down my animalistic urges.

  “Yep, show me what this bad boy can do,” Liz giggled.

  “You got it.” I grinned as I put the car into gear and eased out of her neighborhood.

  Once we hit the LIE, it was game on. I watched the speedometer climb up into the nineties, but it felt like we were barely moving. The Mercedes rode so smooth even as we wove between the other cars on the highway. We seemed to be just a step ahead of the normal five o’clock traffic, and I was a little disappointed to realize we’d already reached the exit for Riverhead. I loved driving my car fast, but I also wasn’t looking forward to the ass-chewing I was certain awaited me at the Febbo estate.

  When I pulled onto the little country road that led to the Febbo estate, I turned onto the winding driveway, and even though I’d seen it multiple times now, the manor still took my breath away for a moment.

  It was huge and looked like it had been dropped here straight from Italy. The red tile roof sat perfectly on top of the stucco walls, and in the center of the circle drive was a large concrete fountain with a half-naked woman who gently spouted a stream of crystal-clear water into the wide pool. The scene was like a picture out of an old Italian movie, especially after we’d already passed a few dozen vineyards to get here.

  But I didn’t focus on the scenery for long when I realized the normally almost empty driveway currently featured four cars I’d never seen before. The ever-present bodyguards still stood watch outside, so they obviously weren’t unexpected guests, but Anthony hadn’t told me other people would be here for dinner.

  My mind jumped to every Mafia movie I’d ever seen as I pictured a troupe of Italian goons exacting Anthony’s punishment for me talking to the federal agents. Or if I decided to look on the bright side, maybe they were potential witnesses who would keep me from getting my ass beat.

  Though I wouldn’t count on the latter.

  “Looks like a big family dinner,” Liz murmured as I threw the car in park and looked across the expansive driveway.

  “Yeah, I didn’t know we weren’t the only ones coming,” I replied with a frown. “I hope we aren’t interrupting another meeting.”

  “Should we just wait out here?” My co-counsel looked a bit uncertain as we both looked up at the giant house. “I wouldn’t want to impose on one of Mr. Lamon’s meetings.”

  “Neither would I,” I muttered. “He’s already pissed at me about talking to the feds. The last thing I need is to walk in on a family meeting.”

  “Why is he pissed?” she asked in confusion. “You didn’t tell them anything that would hurt him.”

  “I know that,” I agreed. “But he hasn’t given me a chance to give him all the details yet, and he heard about the conversation from Hank before I could tell him anything.”

  “Oh, that does look bad.” Liz pursed her lips. “What are you going to do?”

  “Beg for mercy?” I half-joked. “I’m not sure yet. I need to tell him everything, but I don’t know who all these people are. I don’t know if they should be in the loop, too.”

  “We could just wait until they leave,” she offered. “That would be safe, right?”

  “Except I already told him when to expect us,” I countered. “So, we’re stuck between sticking to what I said and avoiding whatever is going on right now.”

  “It wouldn’t hurt to take a few minutes to decide,” she said after a moment. “If nothing else, they could start walking out any second.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed quietly.

  Nearly fifteen minutes passed with my rock music playing quietly in the background of the otherwise silent cabin. Neither of us dared to chat as we waited for our client to clear his house of his guests. The bodyguards continued to circle the house, which I realized now included Hank, who had left his car to join the rest of Anthony’s security team watching the perimeter of the estate. A few of them glanced at us in the car with various looks of confusion, but no one approached the car. Maybe they agreed with our decision to wait. Or maybe they thought we were strange.

  Then Liz’s stomach rumbled loud enough for me to hear it, and I looked at her with an amused smile.

  “I told you I wanted dinner,” she groaned. “I haven’t eaten since the plane landed this morning, and I was already jetlagged then from the time zone change.”

  “Okay, we could just go in and check on dinner,” I offered. “If there’s a meeting going on, it’s probably in Anthony’s office, so we can just stay downstairs until he’s ready.”

  “That seems reasonable,” Liz agreed.

  We opened the car doors and stepped onto the gravel driveway. I still paused for a moment, and I thought I could hear several loud male voices, but I couldn’t be sure. I hadn’t heard anything from inside the car, and the voices were somewhat muted even out here.

  I shut the door to my car, and the voices grew loud enough to almost make out the words. I glanced over the top of my car to Liz, and she seemed frozen in place. Her eyes were wide with fear, and she kept one hand on the car as though she was ready to escape if necessary. I started to say something to comfort her, but my assurances were cut short.

  Then came the unmistakable sound of glass breaking as a shower of the shards tumbled down from the second story of the manor and landed on the grass in front of us.

  I looked up to see the remaining bits of the window that led to Anthony’s office.

  Chapter 4

  “Stay here,” I ordered Liz.

  I sprinted ahead of Hank and two other security guards to the front door, and we rushed inside. I didn’t see anyone else in the foyer, but I was focused on the destination on the second floor. Hank and I ran upstairs while the other two spread out to clear the first floor. We cleared the steps two at a time, and my blood pounded through my veins as we headed for Anthony’s office. We both knew something had gone wrong, but I was anxious about what we might find. When we arrived at the door, I hesitated at the thought of busting inside like I imagined myself doing just a few seconds ago, but I didn’t have to think long.

  Hank twisted the knob and stepped inside with his pistol in hand. He kept it aimed at the floor, but I could see his finger sat comfortably on the trigger. I’d already witnessed his skills at the firing range, and I knew he’d be able to aim and shoot in plenty of time if necessary, but he was also smart enough not to point the barrel anywhere near his boss.

  Anthony stood behind his desk with his fists pressed against the wood while he
glared at two other men. One guy stood by the shattered window, and the other stood between him and the door we’d just walked through. All three looked angry enough to throw the others out the remains of the window. In contrast, a soft breeze blew through the jade curtains on either side and filled the room with the scent of wildflowers.

  I’d expected them to be in the middle of a fist fight or a shootout or something, but all three men simply stood there with heaving chests and crimson faces as though the shattering window hadn’t just happened.

  “You don’t have a fucking vote, mammalucco,” Anthony snarled at the man nearest the window. “I don’t remember it ever being a democracy.”

  “It’s not just your call, Tony!” the man yelled back as his chest heaved up and down. “You can’t--"

  “Everything is my call,” my client said in a voice that sounded like he was ready to murder the other guy right in front of us.

  I felt like I was watching a tennis match as my head jerked left to right while they argued.

  “You’re no Sal.” The man closer to the door turned and started to take a step closer to my client.

  “Hey!” I called out. “Don’t even think about it.”

  The man stopped and stared at me with unblinking eyes. I got the distinct feeling he’d sleep perfectly fine after he slit my throat and watched me bleed out like a stuck pig, but I wouldn’t back down. My heart leaped into my throat as he eyed me and possibly planned my death, but I had to make sure nothing happened to Anthony. Hank glanced over at me with a slightly impressed expression before he turned back to his boss.

  “You okay, Tony?” Hank asked as he eyed the two strangers warily.

  “I’m fine,” Anthony grumbled. “They were just leaving.”

  “We are not done talking about this,” the window man argued in a thick Italian accent. “You can’t just give us the boot.”

  “It’s better than pushing you out the window you just broke,” Anthony retorted with a malicious smile. “Which you’ll be paying for, by the way. I’ll take it out of your next cut.”