Johnny Porno

by Charlie Stella

  “Hey,” he yelled. “What you’re doing in there?”

  He knocked one more time.

  “I call police,” he said.

  The footsteps inside the apartment moved quickly. Elias was still leaning close to the door when it opened. Then, before he could react, a hand reached out and grabbed him by the front of his T-shirt and pulled him inside the apartment. He was half dragged, half shoved into an armchair in the living room. Then the man stepped back and Elias saw he had a gun.

  “Mobster,” Elias said.

  “Not exactly,” the man said. “But who are you?”

  “What you are doing here?”

  “You first.”

  Elias sat back in the chair.

  “Okay,” the man said. “Have it your way.”

  He raised the gun. Elias didn’t flinch.

  “Tough old bastard,” the man said. Then he lowered the gun a few inches and whipped it up fast and hard under Elias’s chin. The old man’s eyes fluttered a few times before they closed.

  Chapter 44

  “You look terrible,” Nathan said.

  “I haven’t slept a wink,” Nancy said.

  He had come as promised, but earlier than she had thought. She had been asleep when the phone rang. The front desk said a Nathan Ackerman was in the lobby. She told them to send him up and wondered why he hadn’t said he was her husband.

  She answered his knock wearing her panties and bra and was surprised when he didn’t kiss her hello.

  Now he was keeping his distance, sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table across the room while she sat on the edge of the bed.

  “I appreciate your canceling Boston for me,” Nancy said. “I hope it isn’t a problem.”

  “It’s not a problem and I canceled for myself to get my things from the house.”

  “Do you hate me?”

  “I guess I feel sorry for you,” Nathan said, “but you don’t make it easy.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re sorry this turned to shit, whatever crazy thing you did.”

  “I did love you, Nathan. Really. I’m sure I still do.”

  “Baloney, Nancy, let’s not kid each other. I feel foolish enough. I’ve felt foolish enough. Being here now isn’t easy.”

  She apologized again, then said, “I need to contact Louis. For John. He says I should try.”

  Nathan ignored her.

  “I don’t know where he is or where he’s gone,” she continued. “He can only reach me at my, our home number. We need to go back to the house. I was afraid to stay last night.”

  “You have a bruise and your face is swollen,” he said. “Did they do that?”

  Her eyes welled with tears. “They hit me so hard.”

  Nathan shook his head. “How can a man do that?”

  “John had me sneak out the back,” Nancy said. “They might still be there.”

  “We’ll call the police first to make sure they aren’t.”

  “I’m not sure we should involve the police.”

  “I won’t go there without calling them.”

  “What can I tell them?”

  “You don’t have to mention whatever you did, but there’s nothing wrong with saying what happened last night. Show them your face, tell the truth about that.”

  “They’ll want to know why?”

  “Lie.”

  “What?”

  “It’s what you do best. Make up a story. At least that way the police will stay there. Tell them you were robbed.”

  “You think that’ll work?”

  “Come on, Nancy, get dressed. I want to get this over with. I don’t want to waste more time than I have to.”

  She got off the bed and went to him. “I want to thank you,” she said.

  She put a hand on his shoulder. He removed it.

  “I’m doing this for your son,” Nathan said. “And John. No other reasons.”

  “You won’t even look at me.”

  “Get dressed, Nancy. Then you can call the police.”

  Forty-five minutes later Nathan pulled up in front of their house, where a police cruiser was waiting. He invited the policemen inside. They took Nancy’s abbreviated report: Two black men pushed the door in when she answered their knock. One of them slapped her and stood watch while the other went through the house. Some jewelry was missing and they took all her cash, about two hundred dollars, she’d told them.

  The policemen told her detectives would probably pass by later in the morning. Once they left, Nathan told her she shouldn’t have said they were black men or lied about the cash.

  “You’re the one told me to lie,” Nancy said.

  Nathan stared at her a moment. “You’re right,” he said. “I should’ve known better. I’m going to make coffee.”

  Nancy rolled her eyes when he turned his back to her. She went upstairs to shower. When she came back down the phone was ringing.

  “Why didn’t you answer?” she asked before picking up the receiver. “Hello?”

  “It’s me,” Louis said.

  “God damn you,” Nancy said.

  The connection was broken. Nancy screamed Louis’s name when she realized he had hung up. Then she kicked at one of the kitchen chairs and hurt her foot.

  “He’ll call back,” Nathan said.

  “What?”

  “He’ll call back. Next time don’t curse him.”

  “Don’t curse him? What are you taking his side too now?”

  Nathan sipped his coffee, set the cup down and headed for the front door.

  “Where are you going?” said Nancy, limping behind him.

  Nathan didn’t answer. He opened the door and walked out. She stood in the doorway yelling his name until it was clear he was leaving. Then she started cursing and kept it up until she heard the phone ring again. She limped back to the kitchen and answered.

  “Louis?”

  “Who’s Louis?” a strange voice asked.

  “Who’s this?”

  “The guy grabbed your snatch last night.”

  Nancy couldn’t speak.

  “You tell the cops about the money you robbed?”

  “Na-no,” she managed to say.

  “Good. Now, who’s Louis?”

  “A friend.”

  “He the one has the money?”

  “No. He’s a friend from the school.”

  “A boyfriend?”

  “No, just a guy. Our kids go to school together.”

  “Where’s your kid?”

  Nancy didn’t answer.

  “We’ll talk again,” the caller said.

  She was trembling when he hung up.

  * * * *

  Stebenow had tried and failed to convince the special agent in charge of the Eddie Vento investigation that their key informant’s life was in danger. Clive Flynn, a fifteen-year veteran of the bureau, the last two as a special agent in charge, had recently been admitted to the bar and was hoping to become a federal prosecutor. Taking down Eddie Vento would go a long way toward advancing his political future.

  When Stebenow told Flynn about Bridget Malone’s bruised face, the SAC said, “She’s been sucking Vento’s dick the last six months. You really think she can’t handle a few slaps?”

  The comment had infuriated Stebenow. “I think the cop on his payroll is investigating her,” he’d said. “I think he’s already figured her out.”

  “Was that why you had our people hold some Westie inna safe house? They aren’t for your personal hunches, safe houses. There’s something going on I should know, you best tell me now.”

  “That was a guy attacked me is all.”

  “Except you were guarding the Princess Malone at the time. Or watching her anyway, I’ll bet, and without keeping us informed. Then you order the punk held like you’re J. Edgar himself. The fuck you think we’re slow?”

  “Alright,” Stebenow said. “It looked like he was going for her. Yeah, I was there.”
/>   “And you think the guy with Vento sent him.”

  “I know Kelly sent him.”

  “You can prove it?”

  “No.”

  “Because the Westie isn’t saying fuck all. Quinn his name is, right?”

  Stebenow hadn’t answered.

  “It’s fine by me,” Flynn had said. “Kelly is NYPD’s problem. At least until we take Vento down.”

  “That cop can give us Vento just as easy.”

  “Except that would make us look like we’ve been wasting our time with Malone, wouldn’t it?”

  “Us or you?”

  It was the wrong thing to say and Stebenow knew it.

  Flynn had smirked. “I’ll make believe I didn’t hear that,” he said. “You concentrate on keeping our girl active. The sooner she brings us something we can convict Vento with, the sooner she’s living under a new identity. We bring him in because he slapped her we’ll all look stupid and the only thing she’ll get is an order of protection.”

  That had been late last night. This morning, after another sleepless night, Stebenow had called his wife and was surprised when a man answered her phone. Their separation was less than six weeks old. Although they had stopped seeing each other more than three weeks ago, Stebenow had been caught off guard by the new man in his wife’s life.

  Rather than asking to speak to her, he’d hung up.

  As much as it hurt, Stebenow felt a strange sense of relief knowing his wife had moved on. His efforts to save the marriage had been half-assed. If it wasn’t his job that had come between them, it was his discontent with what his job entailed. Either way, Stebenow knew both his marriage and his work had become dead issues. It was time to leave both behind.

  He thought about calling Flynn and quitting the Bureau, but that would require turning his back on a witness and Stebenow knew he couldn’t do that. Not anymore.

  He left the house with his weapon of choice, a Sig-Sauer.

  Chapter 45

  The phone call from her former daughter-in-law and her son had kept Marie Albano up most of the night. First Nancy had said John owed the mob money, but later John had said his ex-wife was lying. Marie couldn’t trust her ex-daughter-in-law, but the fact her son wanted her to take Little Jack someplace safe was cause for concern.

  This morning she was thinking she might take her grandson to the theme park in Hershey, Pennsylvania. Marie was thinking she’d book a room in a motel nearby the amusement park. Little Jack was eating cereal in the living room while watching television. She didn’t mention anything to her grandson while she looked over her road atlas.

  She took notes of the roads and highways she would have to take and had just written the directions through Pennsylvania using Interstates 78 and 81 when the doorbell rang. Marie glanced out the kitchen window and saw a tall man with red hair standing at the front door.

  “Grandma!” Little Jack called to her.

  “I got it,” Marie said. She looked through the peephole and asked who it was.

  “Police, ma’am.”

  She was about to ask him to show his identification when a badge appeared. Marie opened the door enough to show her face.

  “Morning, ma’am,” the detective said.

  “What is it?” Marie asked.

  “I’m looking for your son.”

  “My son? What for?”

  “It has to do with money he owes, ma’am. I’m not here officially this morning. More as a favor. Your grandson here?”

  “My grandson? Why?”

  “I was asked to ask, ma’am.”

  “Why? Who asked you to ask?”

  “A friend. If you could pass along a message to your son, that he needs to speak to the man in Brooklyn today, it’d be much appreciated.”

  “What man? What is this about?”

  “Money, ma’am.”

  “What money? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Your son does.”

  “And you’re police?”

  “A detective, ma’am.”

  “Says you,” Marie said.

  The detective smiled, then turned and walked away.

  * * * *

  Detective Levin was sitting up high in the passenger bucket seat of the surveillance van. Brice had joined him a few minutes ago with two fresh coffees and a couple of packs of Yankee Doodles. Levin had been sitting surveillance on Detective Sean Kelly since just after midnight. He yawned before taking a sip of his coffee.

  “Last night he meets Eddie Vento on the Canarsie Pier and this morning he’s doing house-to-houses,” Levin said.

  They had just watched Kelly approach the front door of Marie Albano’s home about half a block away.

  “I guess you didn’t get any sleep,” Brice said.

  “I almost missed him,” Levin said. “Somebody stopped over last night and put a bug up my ass.”

  “Think about the bug up my ass,” Brice said. He was watching Kelly. A stocky woman with gray hair opened the door the detective had just knocked on.

  “Who’s that?” he asked.

  “Albano’s mother’s the woman lives there, owns the house.”

  “The guy, Johnny Porno, his mother?”

  “The same.”

  “And Kelly’s visiting her why?”

  “Something to do with missing money from the porn flick.”

  Brice adjusted the van’s rearview mirror so he could see through both rear windows.

  “So, Kelly is working for Eddie Vento,” he said.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  The two detectives sat silent the next few minutes while Kelly and the gray-haired woman continued their conversation.

  “I’m sure it has something to do with last night,” Levin said. “This Albano, Johnny Porno, he’s supposed to be missing with cash and some bootlegged copies of the movie they’re peddling. That’s off an OC bug in Vento’s bar.”

  “You have somebody with OC?”

  Levin ignored the question. “Whatever’s going on, it looks like Kelly’s helping to find him.”

  He wrote the time down in a notebook and started the van’s engine. He waited until Kelly’s car was a full block ahead of them before pulling out.

  “Where’s he going?” Brice said.

  “Pay phone,” Levin said.

  “You’re sure of yourself.”

  They followed Kelly through the streets before he turned onto a busy commercial street. Four lights later, Kelly pulled into a gas station and used a pay phone there.

  “What’s going on?” Brice said.

  “I was a betting man?” Levin said. “Kelly’s checking in.”

  * * * *

  Louis returned to the pay phone at the motel office and dialed Nancy’s home number again. This time she was a lot more pleasant when she answered.

  “You calm?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Can we talk?”

  “What do you mean? Of course.”

  “Is it safe?”

  “It is now. I’m alone.”

  “What happened? Why were you so crazy before?”

  “Because men came here looking for John last night and one of them hit me,” Nancy said. “They went through the house and then they grabbed me down there and said they’d be back.”

  Louis had to be careful with her. Nancy was loyal but not crazy. If mobsters had come and smacked her around, there was a chance she was setting him up now.

  “What else did they say?” he asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “Nothing?”

  “They’d be back. They said they’d be back.”

  “And John?”

  There was a pause that unnerved Louis.

  “And John?” he repeated.

  “He thinks it’s some guy he had a fight with at the bar,” Nancy said. “Somebody broke his windshield on the Buick. He thinks it’s the same guy.”

  Louis remembered the broken windshield. “Great,” he said. “That’s great he thinks it’s someb
ody else.”

  “Where are you?” Nancy asked.

  “I’ll be back tonight.”

  “What time?”

  “I can’t come there, Nan, to your place. Not yet.”

  “You going to the apartment?”

  He didn’t like the question. “Maybe, I don’t know yet.”

  “Louis, where? I can meet you.”

  He could see Holly crossing the parking lot.

  “Look, I’ll call you tonight or tomorrow morning.”

  “What time? Nathan left me and I’m all alone now.”

  “Just hang on and I’ll call you.”

  Holly was waving at him.

  “Okay?” he said into the phone.

  “I miss you,” Nancy said. “And I’m afraid.”

  “It’ll be okay,” he said.

  Then Holly yelled his name and he tried to hang up but missed the cradle and had to try again. He missed a second time, while Holly yelled she was hungry, and then he finally hung up.

  “Shit,” he said under his breath.

  “I’m starved,” Holly said. “Let’s get breakfast.”

  “Sure,” Louis said. “And maybe a stiff drink.”

  Chapter 46

  This morning Louis told her they were heading back to New York so he could broker a car deal for some big shot with deep pockets. He said it had something to do with a car that had been used in the porno film, Deep Throat; a Cadillac some rich guy supposedly wanted to buy as an investment.

  Holly had already lost her appetite from the way Louis had been acting since they stole all that money. She dropped the piece of rye toast she’d been holding.

  “Come on,” Louis said. “This is exciting stuff we’re doing. Don’t get down on it now, Nan.”

  Holly’s eyes opened wide. “Excuse me?”

  “Fuck,” Louis said.

  “You just called me Nan.”

  “I did?”

  “Yes.”

  “Sorry. Probably ’cause you’re looking so down. A woman gets bitchy, it reminds me of Nancy.”

  “Really? And who’d you call from the parking lot?”

  “I already told you. The guy with the car.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “I can’t help that.”

  She watched him scarf down two pancakes. He sensed her stare and set his fork down.