by Tony Bertot
“Mama,” she said jumping up with a big smile on her face.
Ana loved her as if she were her own daughter. She was good for her son. She was beautiful and a hard worker, two traits Ana found appealing in her.
“And what are you doing napping at the job?” Ana said to her.
“Got to get my rest whenever I can so I’m ready for that brute of a son you have,” she responded. Sonia always was quick to respond another trait Ana admired in her.
“Well, if you can get away I will let you take me out to lunch,” Ana told her.
“Of course, oh great one, it would be my pleasure,” Sonia responded.
“Bye, honey,” Sonia shouted out to her husband.
“Hey, where you going?” Calito shouted out to her.
“To lunch with the boss,” she shouted back at him.
“I’m the boss,” shouted Benito.
“Only when I let you,” shouted his wife from her wheelchair.
“Mama, I did not see you there,” both Benito and Calito, said simultaneously.
The place erupted in laughter as Sonia grabbed the back of the wheelchair and led her mother-in-law out the door waving goodbye to her husband and father-in-law.
They exited the store and turned right going up South Wabash. When they reached the corner they waited for the light to change before crossing 11th street and never noticed the young man carrying a green duffle bag, enter the corner liquor store.
“May I help you?” asked John Tiziano.
“No, just looking,” replied the young man.
“You looking for anything in particular?” Tiziano asked again.
“No, nothing in particular,” the young man replied without looking up at him.
John Tiziano nodded at someone in the back of the store and suddenly another man came out from the back and walked over to the young man.
“Joey, see if you can help the young man decide on what he wants,” Tiziano told the other man.
Joey Mecca stood 5’ 11” and looked like one of the bad characters out of one of those detective magazines. His black suit with grey turtleneck made him looked menacing.
“Hey, if you don’t know what you want come back when you do,” Joey told the young man placing his hand on the boys shoulder.
The boy, who stood almost six feet, turned quickly, looked straight into Joey’s eyes and a couple of seconds later walked out the store without saying a word.
Joey stared after the young man and appeared to be frozen in place.
“Joey, what he say to you?” asked Tiziano.
“Huh. Ah nothing, he didn’t say a thing. He just stared at me,” replied Joey, almost whispering.
Most men would cringe in fear at the site of Joey, but this young man showed no fear at all. In fact, he could swear the kid smiled at him but he could not really be sure. It was the look in his eyes that caught him completely off guard. In fact, it gave him a chill.
Joey was left with an uneasy feeling in his stomach as if death came calling.
The Wabash Pub
Chicago/Illinois
Located south of Roosevelt Avenue on South Wabash, the Wabash Pub served as a local hangout for many members of the Sabrisio organization. From time to time you would find Emilio or Frank, and sometimes both, at the pub either having a meeting or sitting around drinking and watching a game.
Often when one of the Sabrisio brothers was at the restaurant, they would interview new prospects for their organization. On this particular day, both Frank and Emilio were there to see three new recruits referred to them by one of their own as being good candidates. The men, 23-year-old Nick Costello, 28-year-old Theodore Enzinola and 31-year-old Joseph Bolano stood outside waiting to be called.
“Hey, Mickey, send in the first paisan,” Frank shouted.
Pointing at the largest of the three men Mickey nodded for him to go inside.
Joseph Bolano stood at six feet and weighed almost 300 pounds. Though huge, he moved swiftly and effortlessly.
“Hey, you’re big one,” said Emilio looking up at the man standing in front of him.
“Yes, Mr. Sabrisio. My friends call me Tiny,” Joseph Bolano responded.
“Tiny!” Frank almost shouted laughing aloud.
“Why you want to work for us?” Emilio asked him.
“I… I need the money. Can’t find a job anywhere,” Joseph answered.
“Hey. You know what kind of business we are in? You know that sometimes we need to knock in a few heads?” Frank asked him.
“Yeah, I once owed your people some money and some of your boys came knocking on my door. I paid up but first I kicked their ass,” Bolano said.
Both Frank and Emilio sat up.
“You kicked their ass and then you paid them?” Frank asked.
“Uh yeah. You lent me the money and I owed it to you so I paid them,” Bolano answered.
“Why did you kick their ass?” asked Emilio.
“Cause I like to fight,” Bolano responded.
Both Frank and Emilio burst out laughing.
“But you did pay them, right?” Emilio asked again.
“Yes,” Bolano answered again.
After the laughter had settled both Frank and Emilio, in a few choice words, told Bolano that once he was in he could not get out.
“Next,” Frank shouted out to Mickey.
Theodore Enzinola stood at five feet nine and was a solid 190 pounds.
Frank and Emilio had heard of Theodore from some old friends and they vouched he was top notch and dependable.
“So I hear you came in from New York a couple of days ago?” asked Frank.
“Yes sir, Mr. Sabrisio,” Mr. Enzinola responded.
“Why you here?” asked Frank continued.
“Cause I got into a beef with some people up in Queens New York. They are looking for me and I figured it was time to leave town,” Theodore responded.
“What kind of beef?” asked Emilio?
“I borrowed some money from a loan shark up in Queens and paid him back with interest and he wasn’t satisfied and wanted to keep tapping me for more money so I took care of him,” Theodore said.
“How did you take care of him?” Frank asked.
Theodore looked around before answering as if to confirm it was ok to say something in front of these people.
“I ran the son of a bitch over with my car the next time he and his boys came calling,” He told them.
“Really?” Emilio asked.
“Yeah, really!” responded Theodore Enzinola.
“You know anyone in the Giordano Family? They’re from Queens, too,” Frank asked him.
“No. Don’t know them,” he responded.
“How do we know they didn’t send you?” Emilio asked him.
“I swear on my mother’s grave, Mr. Sabrisio. I don’t know any people from the family you mentioned,” he said staring at both men.
“We are going to check you out. In the meantime, you can work for us. If we find out you lied to us we will be handing you your balls on a silver platter. You understand?” Frank asked him.
“Yes, I understand. I swear I only want a job and you will find me to be loyal,” he responded.
After dismissing him, Frank and Emilio gave strict instructions to put him on the payroll but to keep a close eye on him until they could check out his story.
Lastly, the third man, Nick Costello came before them.
“So what’s your story?” Frank asked Nick Costello.
Nick stood at almost six feet and was well built. His demeanor was that of a confident man.
“I hear you guys are looking for a few good men,” he said smiling at them.
“Maybe we are. What makes you think you qualify?” Emilio asked him.
“Come on, look at me. You telling me you don’t like what you see. I can bust heads with the best of them. If those two that came before me qualified then you must be desperate. Was in the golden gloves and I know how to use a piece. What else you
need to know?” Nick asked laughing.
Frank got up and walked over to where Nick was standing and took a swat at him. Nick responded with a block and a punch to Frank’s face. Two men, standing on the side, rushed Nick who turned to meet their attack. Nick kicked one of the two men, however; the second man connected knocking Nick backwards towards the nearby wall. Nick quickly recovered and picked up a nearby chair to protect himself.
“Ok. Ok. That’s enough,” Frank said getting up from the floor.
“You got a punch and you are quick with your hands,” Frank said.
“What’s your name?” Emilio asked him.
“Nick Costello,” he replied.
“Costello, huh?” Frank inquired.
“You know an Anzio Costello?” Emilio asked him.
“My father was named Anzio,” Nick responded.
“He in the olive oil import business?” Frank asked him.
“He was until he died,” Nick replied as he put the chair down and walked towards them.
“How’d he die?” asked Emilio.
“He had an accident when a bullet decided to make its home in his head,” Nick responded.
Frank and Emilio both stared at Nick and chuckled.
“You don’t seem too grief stricken,” Emilio said.
“He was an asshole,” Nick said without a blink.
“What happened to his business?” Frank asked him.
“Don’t know and don’t care,” Nick responded.
“Why all the questions about my father? Do I get the job or not?” Nick asked them both.
“Sure, kid. You got the job. Just make sure you keep yourself out of trouble. We don’t need any attention brought to our business. You know what I mean?” Emilio asked him.
“Yeah, I understand. No problem, no problem at all,” Nick said.
With that, the Sabrisio brothers both grabbed a couple of beers and toasted the three new men.
“La familia, Salute,” Frank said.
Most of those in the bar raised their glasses in response.
“Salute.”
Good Behavior
Chicago/Illinois
“After serving 12 years in a maximum security federal penitentiary on conspiracy charges, Alfonso Giovanna was released today. There are allegations that the evidence obtained had been fabricated by those who had testified against him. Mr. Giovanna’s attorney is seeking retribution and has asked for an investigation of the allegations that caused his client to be wrongly imprisoned. The government released this statement earlier today.
“Mr. Giovanna is a model prisoner and release was based on good behavior. We are of the opinion that Mr. Giovanna no longer poses a threat to our country,” the spokesman said.
“Twelve years ago, this country was at war with Italy and the Germans, the country where Mr. Giovanna was born, and at the time linked to several attacks on law enforcements agencies in both New York and San Francisco. It appears he is no longer a threat to our society. This is John Cummings reporting live from WKTP Chicago.”
Leaning against a Black Cadillac Coupe De Ville, Anthony Giovanna and Leo Gustavo waited for the senior Giovanna to come out of the federal prison where he resided for the last twelve years. Accompanying them was another car with several members of the Giovanna family.
At 2:15pm, Al Giovanna walked through the gates that separate so many from freedom.
“Pop. You look good,” Anthony said as he embraced him.
“Let’s get the hell out of here. This place smells like a rats nest,” Al said.
Anthony handed his father a bottle of champagne with a glass.
“What the hell, you got no damn beer?” Al asked.
They quickly pulled over to the nearest grocery store and bought a six-pack of ice-cold beer.
Al told one of the men to give the bottle of champagne to a drunk they saw standing on the corner.
“Yeah, this is more like it,” Al commented as he drank down the first bottle.
“Pop, what do you want to do?” Anthony asked his father.
“Nothing, we do nothing now. We wait. All the time I was in, I was thinking on what to do to get back at those bastards. They outsmarted us. They took twelve years out of my life and they would have taken twelve of yours too, Anthony, had I not made a deal with the feds. That is behind us now. I have had a lot of time to think and plan.”
“Mr. Giovanna, the guys are waiting for you at the pub; the Sabrisio brothers and the rest of our lieutenants. They are all looking forward to welcoming you home,” Leo Gustavo told the Senior Giovanna.
“Yeah, Pop, they’re all there,” Anthony added.
“Ok, we go then. I wouldn’t want to disappoint the boys,” Al Giovanna replied.
As the announcement of Al Giovanna's release was being televised at the Alderwoods Nursing Home on Long Island, the feeble old man staring up at the television began to shake and scream.
“Oh, no, you got to hide me! Someone has to hide me now before he finds me,” he shouted out.
The Seventy-five year old got up shouting and waving his arms like a mad man before the attendees were able to restrain him.
“What’s the matter, Mr. Gallo?” one of the attendees asked him.
“He has been released. He is going to come after me. Don’t you understand?” Ricardo Gallo asked the attendee.
“Sure, sure we understand. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe here. We got the best security in the world here, Mr. Gallo,” the attendee assured him.
Ricardo Gallo began to show signs of senility over two years ago and as the disease progressed it was determined he needed to be institutionalized.
They never lied to him and they always took care of him. So this made sense to him and he calmed down, nodding his approval but cautioning them to be careful.
“Got to be careful, they are smart. Don’t trust anyone,” he told him.
“Of course Mr. Gallo, not a problem,” the attendee told him smiling.
Sixty-seven year old Sal Manetti watched the television intently as the news broke about the senior Giovanna.
Over the last twelve years, his organization had doubled in size and expanded into Brooklyn, Staten Island and Long Island. By no means were they a match in size to the Bolnaldo organization. Nevertheless, they were years ahead of any other crime family because of Fazio Giordano's consultation. A consultation for which they pay handsomely.
“Well, so they finally let the old bastard out. Wonder if he is carrying a grudge?” Sam thought, knowing that it would simply be a matter of time before they come after them. Italians are like elephants, they don’t forget.
Walking over to the phone, Sal called his boys at their headquarters.
“Hey, guess you heard, huh? Old man Giovanna is out. Don’t expect anything right now but we got to have a quick meeting and be ready when he decides to come at us,” he said into the phone.
“Yeah, we’ll be ready, boss” the person on the other end answered.
Fazio Giordano watched from the living room window as his twenty-two-year-old daughter Felicia exited the car in front of their home and came up the walkway. Her beautiful red hair shone in the sunlight as she ran up to the door. She had grown up to become a beautiful woman. A few seconds later, she was coming through the front door.
“Hey, pop, what you up to?” she asked him.
“Nothing much, working on another assignment,” he responded.
“Still working for those hoodlums? When you going to get a real job?” she asked laughing.
“Hey, those hoodlums paid for you to go to Harvard. Why you want to become a criminal lawyer instead of an upright citizen like me I don’t know,” he responded teasing her.
At an early age, Felicia learned about her father’s activities and connection with the Giordano crime family. At the age of 15, she had overheard a conversation between her father and Sal Manetti regarding a problem they had with some gang bangers that had come into the neighborhood. Their first instinct was to p
ay them a visit with some of the boys, carrying bats and bang in their heads. Nevertheless, after thinking it through they decided to have a chat with Fazio instead and see what he thought of it. As usual, Fazio came through with the idea of planting some drugs and weapons right under the bench they hung out on and calling the cops. Within a week, the gang problem had been resolved.
Felicia approached her father about it and he finally told her the whole story. How he could not find a job because he had been black balled by the unions for having mob ties. Additionally, he told her the story about what had happened to her grandfather, and how they helped him put the O’Shea’s away for their crime. Felicia was at first shocked but as her father went on she realized he had no choice, justifying he wasn’t really doing anything wrong, except advising them on what to do when certain situations came up. He was, simply put, a well paid, consultant. Eventually, Felicia told her younger brother the same story. From Fabio’s perspective, it was cool. Nevertheless, Felicia cautioned him about telling anyone else about what their father did. It could bring the authorities knocking on their door and his father could be put in jail if he so much as mentions it to anyone. Fabio, though known by his friends for not being able to keep a secret would have had a different opinion had they known he kept this secret from everyone.