Dirty Deeds

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Dirty Deeds Page 9

by Armand Rosamilia


  “I couldn’t afford this cramped box on my salary. You know what they want for them?”

  I shook my head. I didn’t know and I didn’t care. I could never live this close to my neighbors. I’d end up trying to buy the block so I could store baseball cards.

  “I’m guessing there’s a reason we’re here,” I said. I wiped off a stepladder and sat down. I looked around, hoping there was something cold to drink and no one hiding anywhere. I didn’t take Keane for a guy who’d bring me out to a place to put a bullet in my head, but you never wanted to be wrong and dead.

  “I need to know what you know about Chenzo and his dead son,” Keane said. He went right to the point, which I appreciated.

  I also knew he thought the kid was dead. He hadn’t said it ironically or to see if I knew he was still alive. He genuinely thought the body on the beach was Little Chenzo.

  “I know about as much as you do. It has nothing to do with me,” I said.

  “I disagree. Word on the street is he’s looking for you, and it has everything to do with his dead son. In fact, I know the two monsters you were walking with. We’ve been watching them for months. We have enough to lock them both away and throw away the key,” Keane said.

  “It would’ve been helpful if you’d already done it. I guess once they take turns beating me into bloody pulp you’ll get around to it,” I said.

  “There’s a much bigger picture here, James. You help us put away Chenzo and I won’t be so hard on you when we finally catch you doing whatever it is you do. Doesn’t that sound fair?”

  I shook my head. “You know if I had something juicy, especially on Chenzo, I’d give it over. Self-preservation is very high on my list. But I’m not involved. You’re asking the wrong guy.”

  “The driver said he saw you the other night leaving the airport. Obviously he’s an agent and not a driver. He followed you to a suit guy. We questioned him,” Keane said.

  “Great. Now I’ll have to pay full price because you bothered him.”

  “Here’s the interesting thing I need you to clear up for me. We’ll get back to Chenzo,” Keane said and leaned on the counter although he didn’t look comfortable.

  “I’m all ears. I’m also getting thirsty.”

  “How is it the driver you had the other night ended up dead and dumped into the Hudson River an hour after you were dropped off at your hotel?”

  I shrugged my shoulders and remained calm. He had nothing on me or we’d be doing this dance in an actual interrogation room.

  “We found the car a block away. It had never been returned. Here’s the funny part, too. An eyewitness says he saw the guy driving the vehicle that dumped the body into the water and walked away from the car. It wasn’t you, obviously. You were already tucked away in your hotel bed. Who was the guy you were with, and which one of you killed the real driver?”

  It hit me then. Hard.

  The actual driver I’d hired had been in the trunk the entire time. I was being driven around by another player in this game, one I had no idea about. Was he connected to the cheerleader being shot? Did Keane know about it?

  I needed to get out of here and think. Think. Think.

  TWELVE

  “I think it’s time I asked for a lawyer,” I said to Reggie. It was more about distancing myself from Keane so I could sort through a few things, and I needed to call Marisa as soon as possible.

  “This isn’t an interrogation. It’s just two people having a chat in a house on Staten Island,” Reggie said.

  It dawned on me what he was trying to say. The rumor for years was Chenzo owned most of the construction, cement and electricians in and out of Staten and Long Island. A few bodies had been dug up every now and then on new construction sites. A few dated back to before Chenzo had gained power, leading everyone to believe his predecessor had shown him the nice spots for the bodies to go six feet under.

  “I won’t be intimidated by you or anyone else,” I said. Was Reggie on the take? Had I underestimated his humanity? Was he on Chenzo’s payroll like everyone else? If Keane had a price I needed to eventually find it and get rid of him before he did Chenzo’s dirty work and took care of me.

  Reggie smiled. “I think you misunderstand me, James. I’m not trying to scare you into helping us. I need you to understand where I’m coming from. Chenzo has his hooks in half the agents under me. There was a shakeup in the Brooklyn office of the U.S. Marshalls this past week. The estimate is half of the agents were on The Family payroll at some point. It makes it hard to get rid of Chenzo or make anything stick. I suspect even my boss as having ties to The Family.”

  “I still don’t get why you’re telling me any of this. I don’t have ties to Chenzo. In fact, by you pulling me off the street, he’ll definitely want me dead,” I said.

  “I lost your file,” Reggie said.

  “What file?”

  “The eight hundred page folder of everything we’ve ever gotten on you. Every last sheet is gone,” Reggie said.

  I shook my head. “I guess you’re going to bury me out here in the dumps with the rest of the bodies, is that it, Reggie? After all is said and done, dirty money is more important than doing the right thing?”

  “I’m not interested in dirty money for dirty deeds,” Keane said. “I really need your help.”

  “I can’t help you and you know it. Why are we wasting time?” I wanted to run out the door but knew his goons would drop me to the pavement. “The two agents with you. . . can they be trusted?”

  “No one can be trusted. It’s why we’re all alone. I hid your file away. I don’t need it, anyway. I’ve studied your every move for years. When you called me Captain Ahab it wasn’t far off. I’ve obsessed about what you’ve been doing. Killing innocent children. What kind of man could do it and sleep at night? How could God let it happen?” Reggie asked.

  “Are you asking me?”

  He shook his head again. “I know you won’t give me anything. I get it. Part of the game. I want to crack this case on my own without any hints, James. Then it will be so satisfying for me. The odds are now firmly against me, though. I’m trying to figure out what you’re really doing.”

  “You just accused me of killing children,” I said.

  Reggie smiled. “And then. . . a child’s body washes onto a beach in Mass. Only, it’s nearly twenty years later and he’s all grown up. The little boy has been living in secret in another country and the way he got there is really strange. I talked to Sister Patricia.”

  “I have no idea who that is.”

  “Yeah, sure you don’t. I get it. Again, I’m fine with doing this the hard way and getting to the bottom of what makes you tick and what you’re really up to,” Reggie said.

  “If you know I’m not going to make this easy, why bother with this meeting? Why not just keep following me and see if I slip up. Leave a clue at the scene of a crime,” I said.

  “I need your help, like I keep saying.”

  “I don’t know how to help you. I’m just trying to live my life,” I said. I wasn’t lying. I didn’t trust Keane because I didn’t trust anyone. It was part of the lifestyle, I guess. I was sure someday I’d be able to settle down and retire and find a nice woman who thought I was an old, laidback baseball card collector who got lucky and made some wise investments. I’d never tell her or anyone else what I’d really done all these years. Especially an FBI agent.

  “I guess what I’m asking, James. . . if you get into a corner or find out some information that could help me put away Chenzo, I’d really like to hear it first. Do we understand one another?” Keane asked. He stared at me but it wasn’t a lame attempt to be menacing. He was hoping I’d nod my head.

  I nodded my head.

  “If anyone asks we went back and forth about me trying to get you to confess to all these dead children. That’s the reason I took you here, to work you over and get you to loosen your lips,” Keane said.

  “I’m guessing your goons outside will ask some quest
ions.”

  Keane nodded. “I don’t trust them.” He put his hands up. “Let me rephrase that: I know one of them is on the take and it’s a fifty-fifty for the other one. They’ve both been assigned as my shadows by my boss, which looks really fishy to me. But they both know I do some things on my own and they’ll sit outside and wait for us to come out. There will be questions, though.”

  “Not to me, I hope. I’ll give them my standard answer I give to all of you FBI thugs. . . no comment,” I said.

  I had to admit, this was getting interesting. Chenzo’s power was much bigger than I’d thought, and his kid alive had thrust me into the center of a hurricane of hurt. For me.

  “I enjoyed the Red Sox game the other night,” Keane said and stretched. “I can’t remember the last one I’d been to.”

  “I like to go as much as possible, especially to a new stadium I’ve never seen,” I said.

  “How many have you hit so far in your life?”

  “Out of the new ones only eighteen. Someday I’ll tour the rest. I should be smart about it and find sports card shows happening around home games for places I need to see,” I said.

  We both started walking towards the door and I knew Keane was making small talk because he was going to do something unpleasant to me before we got to the driveway.

  “That would be an excellent goal,” Keane said. He stopped in the foyer and glanced out the side glass panel next to the front door. “Those two goons actually obeyed an order and stayed in the car.”

  “Miracles do happen, right?”

  Keane turned to me and nodded. He pulled a pair of black leather gloves from his pocket and slowly put them on.

  “Is this where I die?” I asked.

  “No. I need you alive. Remember? You’re going to help me crack this case and put Chenzo behind bars once and for all. I’ll also be able to figure out what you’ve been up to all these years. Maybe you’ll get to share a cell with Chenzo, although I can’t imagine you’d enjoy it,” Keane said.

  “I doubt it.”

  Keane sighed. “I can’t go out there with us smiling and laughing. We’ve been inside too long. I need to put a mark on you so they see I tried my best to get you to talk.”

  “You’re going to use me for a punching bag? Seriously?” I didn’t like this one bit.

  “Just one hit to the face.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  “I need to leave a mark so they can see.”

  “What if you bust my jaw or damage my eye? I’m not much of a fighter and I bruise easily. I also have a low tolerance for pain. I could go on,” I said.

  The right cross came suddenly and I had time to close my eyes just as it landed across the side of my head. I was thrown back and banged the other side of my face on the sheetrock. That would also leave a mark.

  “At least you didn’t break my nose,” I said, rubbing both sides of my face. I’d have matching bruises for a few days.

  Keane led me outside, still disoriented, and the two FBI goons looked satisfied to see me in pain.

  THIRTEEN

  I took a cab to Spanish Harlem, walked three blocks before hailing a second cab, and after six blocks took the subway into Manhattan. I was being followed but it was easy to slip by the two FBI guys tailing me once I hit Penn Station.

  The FBI on my trail was better than The Family, anyway. I was hoping the agents would scare off Chenzo’s men for awhile, until they figured out I was no longer being shadowed.

  What bothered me was it wasn’t the two agents with Keane. I was being followed by yet another set, and I wondered how far and deep this went with the Feds. I’d suddenly become a person of interest after years of skating by and doing my own thing without interference.

  I called Marisa, who seemed happy to hear my voice. Or she had information she couldn’t wait to tell me.

  “I have some information,” she said.

  “Shoot,” I said. I walked around the outside of Madison Square Garden, trying to keep to the crowds. It was easy to lose yourself with so many different people mashed together on the sidewalk. I also had no real plan for what I was going to do next. I wanted to get to Will Black but if they followed me right to him I’d give it all away.

  “I have eyes on Will Black. I’ve been trying to call you for the last two hours,” Marisa said.

  “I was hanging out with Keane.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  I filled her in as quickly as possible on our conversation, stopping briefly to order two hot dogs and a can of Coke from a street vendor. I loved hot dogs and pretzels in Manhattan.

  “So you already know the body from the trunk was an FBI agent,” Marisa said.

  “Way ahead of you.”

  “Then you also know he has definite ties to Chenzo?”

  “Who doesn’t at this point?” I asked around a mouthful of hot dog. Have I already mentioned how delicious these are?

  “Don’t get snarky with me, boss. I’m on your side. Not many people are today, remember?”

  I sighed. “Yeah. I remember. Tell me where Will Black is. I’m sick of reacting to everything around me. I need to start acting before The Family, the FBI, someone killing people around me and a really bad driving company gets to me.

  My face still hurt where Keane had sucker-punched me and I bought another can of Coke to press against my face and keep the swelling down.

  Marisa gave me the address, which was just a train platform where he was panhandling for beer money. Did this guy understand who was after him?

  I hailed another cab and when two guys in black suits did the same from down the block I knew I’d been spotted. I climbed into the cab and told the driver to drive as fast as he could around the block, slow enough so I could jump out, and drive to Brooklyn as fast as possible. I handed him a hundred dollar bill, showing him a second one. “I’ll leave this one on the seat. Got it? There are bad men following me. If they know I’m not in your cab they’ll probably kill you.”

  “Get out,” he said.

  I shook my head. “Too late, buddy. This has been set into motion the second I got into the backseat. If you don’t hurry the cab they’re now in will catch up and they’ll start shooting. I hope you don’t have a family waiting at home.”

  I knew I was being a jerk and this guy wasn’t in any real danger. Well, if the thugs behind me were mobsters and not FBI, he might be. Those kinds of guys don’t really like to leave witnesses.

  “You need to drive,” I said and pulled a third hundred. “This is all I have. You drive to Brooklyn and get away. Trust me.”

  He stomped on the gas and cut off another cab, which honked the horn. Cabbie gave him the finger like it was his fault and took off, swerving in and out of traffic.

  “They’re following,” he shouted, his voice hitching.

  “Then lose them.”

  Hadn’t I just told Marisa I was going to act instead of react? I was still moving along while outside forces controlled my every move. This was getting old. I was getting old.

  At the next light he drove into the intersection even though he had a red light, missed hitting a car by inches, and got into the wrong lane and blew through another red light, turning a corner.

  “I lost them,” he shouted triumphantly.

  “Don’t get too cocky. They’re professionals. They’ll find you,” I said. “Slow down.”

  He pulled to the curb and I jumped out, not bothering to waste time with a long thank you or further instructions. He either made it or he didn’t. He knew nothing about me and I’d be long gone.

  There was a little boutique and I ran inside, smiling as I turned to look at the junk they were selling in the window. I stepped back so it wasn’t obvious from the street I was in here.

  A yellow cab went by. Followed by about six dozen more. I had no idea where the bad guys were now. I knew my guy had taken off and I felt sorry for scaring him so much.

  I was hoping it was a bumbling FBI cover and once
they found his cab empty they’d call their backup to find me. I didn’t want to think of The Family members getting their hands on the poor guy. The less people getting hurt because of me the better.

  Normally I’d call Marisa to call for a driver so I could escape, but I felt like I no longer had the option. I didn’t know who I could trust. Between the FBI and The Family infiltrating everything in New York, I’d need to flush all my contacts and start over.

  I had time to kill so I wandered through the store since they sold a few gaudy clothing items on some circular racks in the center of the store. I was by no means a fashion plate but I couldn’t imagine anyone in their right mind buying anything here unless it was for a joke or a gag present.

  A denim jacket with frayed sleeves and a panther stitched on the back caught my eye and made me laugh. It was so bad it was perfect, and would match my jean shorts. It was actually too big for me, which was amazing. I usually wear between an XL and a 3XL depending on where I’m staying and what great restaurants are in the area. This had to be a five extra large, and I had room.

  I found a red baseball cap near the register, added two Snickers bars and a Coke. One thing I loved about New York is the fact you could find pretty much anything and everything if you looked, and not even looked hard. The best part was this outrageously bad outfit would help me blend right in, too. I picked up a pair of cheap women’s silver sunglasses, too. Might as well go all in.

  By the time I paid for everything with cash and was back on the street, about a half an hour had passed. By now they might’ve run down the cab and he told them roughly where he’d dumped me. They hopefully wouldn’t think I’d still be hanging around shopping.

  I got two blocks and saw the guys who’d followed me. They were at the end of the block, peeking into windows and looking pissed. I now took them for definite Chenzo goons and was annoyed the FBI and Chenzo guys looked so similar.

  If I changed direction suddenly they’d notice it, so I kept walking, window shopping until I came to a pizza place and strolled inside. I got in line with everyone else and decided if I was going to hide anywhere it might as well be somewhere that smelled this delicious.

 

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