Rules of the Game

by Bruce Fitzpatrick

  ***********

  The next morning he got up, washed, and headed for Ruffino's cell. As he walked along the tier, he half-expected to see Joey Massaglia and Tony Gioia - Ruffino's bodyguards - posted outside his door. But the only one there was a muscular convict that Adrian had seen around, but didn't know personally. Adrian approached him anyway.

  "I need to see Mr. Ruffino. Is he in?"

  "He's down the Dispensary getting some dental work."

  "On a Saturday?"

  The man shrugged. "Hey, what can I say? They sent for him earlier, told him his appointment for next week had been changed to this morning. I'm just minding the store till he gets back."

  "That doesn't sound right. Who ordered it?"

  "Atkins."

  “Since when has Atkins been running the dental office?” Adrian thanked the man and left.

  It was possible that Ruffino would get dental work done on a Saturday morning: he'd seen stranger things than that. But not with Atkins involved...

  He decided that the Dispensary was worth a closer look. Besides, it might give him an opportunity to speak with Ruffino before his day filled up and he got too busy. He took the south stairwell and cut across the prison yard, then entered the door leading to the institution's medical facilities.

  Outside the Dispensary, he met Joey Massaglia and Tony Gioia. Nodding toward the closed door, Adrian asked, "The old man in there?"

  Adrian, now known to both Massaglia and Gioia, was treated civilly.

  "Yeah, they're getting ready to work on him," Gioia said.

  "I think they're gonna do more than that," said Adrian.

  "What's that mean?" Massaglia asked, his eyes narrowing.

  Adrian was about to explain, but Fergus came around the corner, preventing him. "What are you men doing here?"

  "Carmine’s inside getting a root canal," Massaglia answered. "We're keeping an eye on things till he's done."

  Scowling, "Mr. Ruffino's a big boy. He can get a root canal without your help. Get moving."

  "Hey, we can't leave," said Gioia.

  Fergus pulled his two-way radio from his belt, and raised it to his mouth. His thumb on the transmit button, he asked, "Maybe you need help..."

  Gioia and Massaglia looked at each other. If Fergus keyed his two-way it would be a matter of seconds before the hallway was swarming with backup. They’d end up in The Hole, and accomplish nothing. They shrugged, and then walked off. Adrian, not wishing a confrontation either, went in the opposite direction as Fergus walked off behind Gioia and Massaglia.

  After rounding a corner, he slowed, and halted. Listening, he heard no indication of anyone's presence, so he retraced his steps and went back to the Dispensary. Outside the door, he listened again, then quietly entered, locking the door behind him. He questioned his sanity for even being there. If he ever got caught, especially under those conditions...

  The Dispensary anteroom was empty and dimly lit. He heard voices inside the dentist's office, and quietly approached the door. He hesitated, and then leaned close and listened. The first voice he heard was Carmine Ruffino's.

  "I don't understand why we gotta go through all this bullshit over a lousy root canal," Ruffino was saying. "A kid could handle this."

  A man's voice answered, presumably the dentist's. "I understand that, Mister Ruffino, but you're not our average patient. We're trying to ensure your safety as well as your privacy. Besides, the anesthesia I'm going to use will allow us to complete the entire procedure in a single sitting."

  "Yeah, well maybe I don't like that," said Ruffino. "Maybe I want my guys in here lookin' after things while I'm knocked out."

  "Your 'guys' are outside in the hall. You'll be fine."

  Inside, Ruffino was already seated in the dentist's chair. The dentist, forty year-old Dr. Walter Porter, stood in front him, wearing medical greens. A combination of surgical tools lay on a tray beside him, and he was preparing a syringe filled with anesthesia.

  Carmine Ruffino seemed to accept the pointlessness of making a big deal out of nothing. Shrugging impatiently, he said, "All right, let's get it over with. What do you need me to do?"

  "Nothing, really," answered Porter, measuring the dose he would administer. "Just lean back in the chair and make yourself comfortable. Close your eyes and relax. Once I've administered this you won't feel a thing."

  Carmine did as he was told. After Porter rolled up his sleeve and applied an alcohol swab, he administered the anesthesia.

  Adrian listened from the anteroom. From what he could hear, everything sounded kosher, but there was something about the whole arrangement that stunk. He was sure Billings had arranged this, not the dentist. Based on his most recent conversations with Billings and Atkins, Adrian had a keen interest in Ruffino's well being. Ruffino was his safety net, and Billings had wanted him to set Ruffino up. Then, after his refusal to help Billings, Billings had then turned Adrian loose in population where he would be vulnerable to almost anything. Now Billings had arranged a private dental appointment for Ruffino where the old man would be given a deep anesthesia and become vulnerable himself.

  He listened as Porter administered the anesthesia. "All right, Mr. Ruffino, start counting backward from one-hundred."

  Ruffino began counting. "One-hundred...ninety-nine...ninety-eight...niny-senn...niny...siss...niny..." Then nothing.

  Outside, Adrian leaned closer to the door. For the moment, it seemed as though everything was going as it should. Then his suspicions were justified. From inside the dentist's office, Adrian heard a door quietly open, then close. And he heard a voice that he knew all too well.

  "Well, Doc," said Jimmy Atkins, "is he under?"

  "Just as you requested." Porter's voice sounded strained, as though this wasn't co-signing any of this.

  Inside the dentist's office, Jimmy Atkins fully endorsed it. "He won't know what's going on?" Atkins asked.

  "Not so he'll remember," answered Porter.

  "Good! How much time I got?" Atkins sounded like a greedy child who was about to be turned loose in a candy store.

  "At least ten minutes. Certainly long enough to tape him."

  Adrian could scarcely believe what he was hearing. Under the guise of dental work, they were putting Carmine Ruffino under a heavy anesthesia so they could grill him with a tape recorder running. And society called the convicts unsavory and desperate. What about their keepers?

  "I've waited a long time to get this son of a bitch under my thumb," continued Atkins. "Time I get done with this he'll be all mine."

  "You live dangerously, Mr. Atkins," admonished Porter.

  "That’s your perspective, Doctor. Where do we begin?"Adrian now recognized Billings' voice. No wonder he'd changed Ruffino's appointment. It presented the perfect opportunity. And with the power he wielded within the institution, who’d question him?

  "I'll bring him halfway back," said Porter. "Then you'll be free to start." To Ruffino, he asked, "Can you hear me?"

  Heavily sedated, Ruffino groaned.

  Porter repeated, louder this time. "Can you hear me?"

  Ruffino groaned again, sounding slightly more alert.

  Porter turned to Atkins. "Go ahead."

  Atkins reached into his back pocket and produced a small, hand held micro recorder; Billings took out a sheet of prepared questions. Holding it where they could read from it, they began.

  Pressing the record button, Atkins held it next to Ruffino's mouth. "Okay, Ruffino," he began, "who protects your gambling operations in Florida?"

  Ruffino’s speech was slurred. "George...Makem..."

  "Who is he? What does he do?" Billings asked.

  "Lobbyist... Fort Lauderdale..."

  "How do you pay him?" Billings asked.

  "Campaign...contributions..."

  "Whose campaign?"

  "Thompson...Contreras..."

  "Senators Thompson and Contreras?" Billings sounded stunned, almost giddy. He was hitting the mother lode.

  "Mmmm
m..." uttered Ruffino.

  Reading from the list, Billings continued. "Who launders your profits now that Billy Duggan is dead?"

  "Sanderson Motors..."

  "A car dealership? Where?"

  "Miami..."

  "Did you have Duggan killed?"

  "Mmmm..."

  "Who did it?"

  "Georgie...Rabino's...crew..."

  "Do you intend to have Joshua Rosen killed?" Billings was firing away now. He already had enough to bring down several of Ruffino's top associates.

  "Rosen..."

  "Yes, Joshua Rosen, the man who prosecuted your case."

  “Too late...”

  Outside in the anteroom, Adrian had heard all he needed to hear. It wasn't enough that Ruffino would spend the rest of his life here, these two animals wanted to use him as their own personal stepping stone, even if it meant getting him killed. Carmine Ruffino might not have been the pick of the parish, but he'd always been decent to Adrian, and he was perhaps Adrian's best, if not only, ally.

  He scanned the anteroom, and saw what he was looking for. Silently approaching it, he carefully opened the small glass door and pulled the switch. The fire alarm went off instantly, and the overhead sprinkler system began spewing heavy streams of water.

  Inside the dentist's office, Billings, Atkins, Porter and Ruffino were drenched by the sudden deluge. A moment later, a circuit breaker in the electrical system cut the lights off, leaving only the battery units lit. Atkins went into a rage.

  "What the Sam hell is going on?" he asked, looking around. This had come out of nowhere.

  Billings, on the other hand, was in a state of panic. "We can't get caught in here with Carmine Ruffino!"

  "There's something wrong here, and I intend to--" He reached for his flashlight, but it had become slippery and it to slipped from his hand. Trying to prevent it from falling to the floor, he juggled the tape recorder. In his attempt to recover it, he slipped and fell, sending the tray of surgical instruments careening across the floor with a loud crash, along with the tape recorder.

  Outside in the anteroom, Adrian heard a dull thud against the door. A moment later, his curiosity was answered.

  "Son of a bitch! I lost the recorder!" yelled Atkins, struggling to his feet.

  "Get it later!" Billings ordered. "We've got to get out of here!"

  Water continued pouring down on them, and the alarm was deafening. Atkins looked around for the recorder one last time. "Doc, you stay here with the old man. As far as anyone's concerned, you were in here doin' your job when all hell broke loose. An' make sure you get that recorder when the lights come on!"

  Billings and Atkins hurried out through the rear door. Porter looked after them, then at the unconscious Carmine Ruffino. What was he supposed to do? If only the lights would come back on...

  Adrian was interested in only one thing: the source of the thud. He slowly grasped the door knob, turned it, and pushed slowly. Holding the door open just enough to reach inside, he groped the darkened floor for a moment. At first he grasped a scalpel, cutting himself. He then patted the floor again, this time moving his hand toward the corner. It was then that he felt the leather bound micro recorder beneath his fingertips. He picked it up, and closed the door.

  Knowing that the alarm would soon be traced to its source, Adrian stuffed the cassette recorder down the front of his pants and left. Trying to look as though he'd been in the prison yard working out, he took off his khaki shirt, wrapped it around his shoulders, and went back to his cell.

  He breathed a sigh of relief when he found the cell empty. Taking the cassette from his pants, he loosened the overhead vent, hid the recorder inside it, and then peeled off his wet clothes.

  Nazareth entered. Seeing how preoccupied Adrian was, he suspected something had happened. "Boy, you're wrestlin' with somethin' powerful!"

  “I am." Adrian motioned him close, then whispered, "Billings asked me to set up Carmine Ruffino. I'd like to warn him, but I don't want to get caught up in their beef."

  Nazareth slowly rubbed his palm across his chin. "Sounds like you already are. At least by warning Ruffino, you'll only have Billings to worry about."

  This presented a dilemma. He had caught Billings and Atkins red handed. There was no more damning indictment against them then that tape. And both of them were on it. Its return could be a bargaining chip for an early parole... or a death warrant. If they ever knew he had retrieved that... Or he could give it to Carmine Ruffino. That could be a plum, or a death warrant, too. What would Ruffino do if he knew...? For a moment he wished he didn't have the tape. Suddenly it had become a pariah. He thought about it for a minute, and realized this would require some thought. It might even be better to simply destroy the tape and eliminate the risk it represented. But there would still be the threat of Billings and Atkins. By destroying the tape, he'd have no leverage against them, and who knew what they might do?

  He decided the best thing to do was sit on it...and wait.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  As usual, Joey Massaglia and Tony Gioia were loitering at the entrance to Carmine Ruffino's cell. No big deal -- they were always there. The big deal for Adrian, however, had been making his way up there without being followed. It had only been a few days since the tape recording incident - and only a day more since Billings had suspiciously cut him loose from Lockup. They had demonstrated how quickly they could move if need be. He had to assume they'd move again once they had decided what to do about the lost recorder.

  Therefore, Adrian had taken a leisurely half hour tour of the institution to make sure he hadn't been followed.

  "I need to see Mr. Ruffino," he told Joey Massaglia.

  Massaglia stared at him with calm, dispassionate professionalism.

  "Joey, this is important. Tell him it's more than important -- it's an emergency."

  "Wait here," said Massaglia, who then turned and went into the cell. As he did, Tony Gioia took a sideways step, effectively blocking the doorway. Nice setup, Adrian thought. He wondered what dues Carmine Ruffino had paid for it over the years.

  After a brief, muffled conversation, Massaglia came out, frisked Adrian, and motioned him in. When Adrian entered the cell, Massaglia stayed close by.

  Without further deference to the bodyguard, Adrian addressed Ruffino, who was sitting at his desk nursing a cup of coffee while sifting through a sheaf of papers.

  "Excuse me, Mr. Ruffino, I'm sorry to bother you, but something came up, and I need to talk to you about it." The old man continued sifting through the papers a moment longer before finally setting them aside. He sat up in his armchair, stretched, then leaned back and relaxed. After removing his bifocals, he rubbed his eyes and looked at Adrian for the first time since he had entered. It made Adrian feel like a piece of business that had to wait its turn, like all the others.

  "Lots of things come up, Adrian, even in a shit hole like this. Tell me what's on your mind and I'll decide how important it is."

  "I assume I can talk in front of Joey, even though it's real personal?"

  "Real personal, huh? Like private personal or embarrassing personal, or what?"

  "Like life and death personal. But it's up to you."

  "Everything is up to me. By now I'm sure you know that."

  Motioning to the Massaglia, he said, "He's clean, right?" Massaglia nodded.

  Carmine shrugged. Then he waved Massaglia off. "We're gonna talk in private. I need ya, I'11 call ya."

  After Massaglia man had gone Carmine looked at Adrian.

  "All right, Adrian, the meter's running. Tell me what's so important that one of my oldest and most loyal friends can't hear about it."

  Adrian relayed his conversation with Billings and Atkins, but mentioned nothing of the tape. At first Ruffino seemed amused by the story, but as it developed he saw its potential dangers and his amusement turned to concern. By the time Adrian had finished, he had Ruffino's undivided attention, and twice had been told to speak lower.

&nbs
p; In closing, Adrian said, "So that's it, I don't know if they're playing games or if they're serious. I think they mean it, because if they wanted to mess with me there's a lot of other ways to do it. I'll have to watch my ass twenty-four by seven because they'll be looking to get rid of me. Either way, I figured the best thing was to tell you before anything happened."

  "You did the right thing. I owe you one for this. It took a lot of balls, and I like that. As for my end, I'll work it out. And I think you could be right. They’ll put you to sleep if they knew you came to me with this. I'll do what I can to help you, but you'll have to be careful. And just so we understand each other, if this turns out to be a crock of shit and I go and stir up a bunch of people for nothin', you're a walkin' dead man."

  "Hey, I figured that’s how it was before I walked in here."

  ********

  Adrian was wired by the time he got back to his cell. When he lay down on his bunk he couldn't stay still. After fifteen minutes of fidgeting and trying to calculate his chances, he realized how totally alone he was. The expression, "nowhere to run, nowhere to hide," took on new meaning, which was why he couldn’t close his eyes, or take them off the doorway. The next person to enter his cell might well be his executioner.