by E. R. Fallon
“How much more are we talking about?” Derrick asked, still appearing intrigued.
“Do they give you a steady salary? Do you get a bonus? Vacation time?” Camille asked the men. She planned to run her organization like a normal business.
“We get paid when we work,” Derrick replied.
“But you’re working all the time.”
Derrick thought about it for a moment then frowned as if he realized she was right. “That’s true,” he said. “But they pay us well. Pat and I have worked for the McCarthys for a while now, and they’ve been good to us.”
“I’ll be even better to you,” she insisted.
“We don’t know you like we know them,” Derrick, the spokesman, said.
“You know me from when I used to tend their bar.”
“Yeah, but they’re like family to us.”
“I can give you a salary and a bonus, and vacation time, gentlemen. I’ll treat you like regular employees. As I recall, some of you have to do jobs on the side now, to make ends meet?”
“Yeah, once in a while,” Danny said, and Derrick gave him a fierce look to quiet him.
“If you work with me, you’d no longer have to do that,” Camille said.
“Why are you willing to do that for us?” Derrick asked her, as though there had to have been a catch.
“I’m not as greedy as they are,” Camille replied with a smile. “To me, this is more than about making money, it’s about a family legacy.”
Pat and Danny nodded at her reasoning, but Derrick didn’t react.
“I don’t believe you,” Derrick said. “I don’t believe you would give us that kind of money.”
He still didn’t trust her, and Camille contemplated a way to convince him, and they all stared at her, with Pat and Danny having expectant looks on their faces and Derrick watching her like she was a liar.
“If you can give me a handshake, then I’ll trust your word, and I can give you all an advance,” she said after a moment.
“Where are you getting this money from?” Derrick asked her.
She almost said, “That’s none of your business,” but she said, “The Italians are on my side, as I’m sure you already know, as are the Russians. My business is growing splendidly. That’s another thing you ought to consider—Catherine’s in jail, and they’ve lost the Italians—they seem to be losing a lot lately, don’t you agree?”
“And you’re the winner?” Derrick said, and he finally smiled, and he had quite a charming smile at that.
“I am,” Camille said with confidence. “And I’ll keep winning.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m doing it in honor of someone, it’s personal.”
“When you say more power, what do you mean exactly?” Derrick asked after few moments.
“You’ll have more control over what you do,” Camille said, a little more control, because she would still be in charge.
“Meaning?”
“I won’t force you to do things you don’t want to. You won’t be punished for saying no.”
Derrick leaned back in his chair like he enjoyed the idea of that. “But you’d still be our boss?” he said as though still a little uncertain.
Camille nodded.
“So, you’re not going to get married to Garcia and expect us to listen to him?” Derrick asked.
Camille shook her head.
Derrick sat up. “Thanks, but we’re going to pass,” he said.
Camille froze in shock.
“If Violet goes to jail along with her mother then the gang is done,” she said in desperation.
“Max will take over if that happens,” Derrick repeated with a smug look.
Camille quickly turned to Danny and Pat. “What about you two, what do you think?”
Both men looked to Derrick for what to say.
“Can’t you speak for yourselves?” Camille said to them. “Think about what I’m offering. I can see your faces; I can tell you’re interested. Forget what he says.”
“Hey, now,” Derrick said, rising.
Camille had left her gun at her apartment because she didn’t want it on her at the movies, and she assumed at least one of the three was armed. A few people had been staring at them, knowing that they were rivals, to see what unfolded, and now their focus seemed to intensify, and their conversations halted, and the pub got quiet. Camille could feel their eyes upon her.
27
“Derrick,” Pat suddenly spoke up. “I think we should consider her offer. It seems pretty good.”
“Where’s your loyalty?” Derrick said to him in disgust, standing. Then he looked at Danny. “What about you?”
Danny glanced at Camille then said to Derrick, “I actually think it sounds pretty good.”
“I can’t believe both of you!” Derrick shouted.
More people in the pub turned to look at them and the entire place fell silent.
“We don’t know her like we know the McCarthys, we can’t trust her,” Derrick told his men.
“Camille used to work at the pub. We know her from there,” Pat said, seeming more confident.
Derrick glared at both men and his posture stiffened. “It isn’t the same thing. They’re like family to us, and you don’t turn your back on family.”
“But they aren’t really our family,” Danny told him.
“You’re dead to me, both of you,” Derrick said to him and Pat.
He walked away in a fury, pushing past the crowd that blocked him. “What the hell are you looking at?” he sneered at everyone who dared to watch him, leaving Camille alone with Pat and Danny. Once Derrick exited, slamming the door as he went, the people who had been watching them resumed their chattering.
“That leaves you, gentlemen,” Camille told Pat and Danny. “Are you with me or not?”
Neither hesitated when each answered yes.
“Terrific,” Camille said with a smile. “Let me buy you a drink.”
Did she trust them? Not entirely. But, then again, she never trusted anyone entirely, and they’d have to earn their place in her gang before she gave them responsibility, but both she and they would learn over time. At least she had two of them now and would try Max tomorrow morning, but convincing him would be even harder than Derrick, and she had failed at Derrick. But she reasoned that if she could convince Max, somehow, then Derrick would be convinced as well.
She bought Danny and Pat a round of drinks and when they were done, they shook hands and went on their way. Camille returned to her apartment and was glad to be away from the noise of, first, the pub, then the city street. She had a terrible headache and knew she wouldn’t sleep well tonight because of the business with Johnny. She entered her apartment just as the phone rang. She closed the front door and raced to answer. Was it Johnny?
“Hello?”
“Camille?” her mother said. “Honey, it’s me.”
“Oh, hi.” She didn’t plan to tell her mother that she and Johnny were over, at least not now. They hadn’t spoken since Camille visited her after her mother banished Vito. But presently she did have a bit of good news to share with her. “I convinced two of Violet’s guys to come work with me.”
Sheila said, “What about the other ones?”
Camille sighed. “Can’t you just be happy? The others will come around.”
“I am happy for you, but with guys like these, honey, it’s better to have them all on your side.”
“Even Max?”
“Him I’m not so sure about.”
“All of this time, why didn’t you ask Vito to take care of him?”
“I did, sweetheart, but Vito said no, said he didn’t want to start a war. And he said ‘unnecessary killings’ can do that. He didn’t care about your father like we do, and if it was up to me, then Max would have been dead a long time ago.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Camille promised her mother. “I’m not sure when, but I will.”
“Was he the one who said no about work
ing together?”
“I haven’t asked him yet. One of the others said no.”
“You’re a clever girl, trying to get Max over to your side before getting rid of him, betraying him like he betrayed your father, that’s the perfect revenge. Your father couldn’t have done it better himself. He’d be proud of you, Camille.”
She thanked her mother but inside it somehow felt wrong that he’d be proud of her for that. “Speaking of Vito, I wonder where he’s gone to,” she said.
“I don’t care, he can rot.”
“I told Joe Alfonsi what he did, and he says I won’t have to interact with Vito, but he says he can’t just throw him out of the mafia.”
“Of course not. Men protect themselves; you remember that, sweetheart. Don’t let your guard down ever.”
“Did Vito come to collect his belongings?” Camille asked after a moment.
“He didn’t have to. I tossed them out the window down to the street.” Her mother howled with laughter and Camille smiled. “It’s what he deserves,” Sheila said with more seriousness.
“Why did you call me?” Camille asked after a while.
“Can’t a mother call to see how her daughter is?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just that, are you going to be asking me if I’ve been taking my medication? Because sometimes you ring to ask me that.”
“I wasn’t, but are you?”
“Of course,” she said, but even if she hadn’t been, she would have lied, as she didn’t want to concern her mother. She understood the difficulty her mother must have been going through after banishing Vito. Sheila had enjoyed a high status as the wife of a mafia man, and now that was done.
“When are you going to approach Max?” Sheila asked after a moment.
“Tomorrow morning, actually.”
“Are you going to go there alone?”
“Yeah. Why, do you think I should take somebody with me?”
“Max is a smart bastard, and one never knows what he’ll do.”
Her mother was correct, of course, as she usually was.
“Don’t forget how he tricked your father,” her mother added.
“You’ve convinced me,” Camille said, and she knew she’d ask Danny to go with her, since he seemed more astute than Pat, whom she knew as strong and capable and violent when he needed to be, but not smart.
“It’s late,” Sheila said. “I’m sure you want to get to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you.”
“Good night,” Camille told her mother. “Mom?” she started to say.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
And she almost said, ‘Johnny and I are finished’, but she didn’t say that, instead she said, “Nothing. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Camille spent most of the night with the television in her bedroom turned on low and not really paying attention to it, but she couldn’t sleep. Instead, she thought. She thought a lot, because she missed Johnny, and she almost turned to drink but resisted the temptation. She had seen too many people she knew growing up turn to drink during difficult times and then they were destroyed because of it.
She rose from bed early the next day, eager to get the meeting with Max completed. Of course, he wasn’t expecting her, and she felt that was best, because if he knew she was coming, she wasn’t sure he’d see her. She’d called up Danny late the night before, when she couldn’t sleep, and for a moment was tempted to ask the handsome Danny to come over and keep her company, but she knew he would never fill the void losing Johnny had left, so she only asked him to meet her outside her apartment in the morning to come along with her to Max’s, and he’d agreed.
She showered and dressed and made herself a cup of coffee but no breakfast, and when she looked out her window and saw Danny waiting outside on the sidewalk, she left the apartment to meet him.
“Camille,” he said. “I hope you had a good night’s sleep.”
Camille smiled to herself at the inelegance of his words, as though he, too, recognized the attraction between them, which had started at the pub, but she knew it wouldn’t materialize and she suspected he also grasped that.
“I did, thanks,” she lied. “I’m glad you decided to come with me. Remember, when you’re working with me, you have more say.”
“I know that,” Danny said, “but I thought that maybe I could help you out with Max since he likes me.”
“Good,” she said. “That could come in handy.” She paused and they started to walk to the shop Max’s friend owned where he had an office in the basement. “Were you surprised I wanted you to start work right away?”
“No, not really. You seem like a prompt lady.”
Camille chuckled at how he’d call her a ‘lady’.
The sun radiated like a sparkling jewel on that morning and she shielded her eyes from the intense light as she walked. The street was crowded with people going to work. A few people in the neighborhood stopped to say hello to her out of respect, and Camille enjoyed her new status as the ‘queen’ of the neighborhood. She liked winning, and as far as she was concerned, Violet and her mother were old news. She and Danny didn’t say much to one another during the rest of the way to Max’s, rather they had a mutual silent respect, and when they arrived close to the shop Camille stopped in the street and turned to Danny.
“This is how it’s going to work,” she told him. “I know he likes you, but I’m going to take the lead when we go inside. But feel free to interject and help me out as needed.”
Danny nodded. “Sure thing,” he said.
The door to the basement was ajar with a stone keeping it open, letting in the summer air, but Camille knocked before entering.
“Who is it?” Max called from inside, and she heard him approaching the door.
“It’s Camille O’Brien. Is now a good time?” she asked, but she could see inside and saw that Max was alone.
“What do you want?” he asked.
“Why, I want to see you, of course,” Camille said pointedly.
“I don’t like sarcasm,” Max said, appearing in the doorway and glaring at her.
“I think it’s time you and I had a talk,” she said.
Danny waved to him, but he ignored Danny, and Camille figured he knew that Danny had moved over to her side, and he probably knew about Pat as well.
“I doubt there’s anything for us to discuss. Anyway, I’m busy.”
“No one’s here,” Camille observed. “How busy can you be? Unless you’re placing bets for ghosts these days?” She smiled.
Max scowled and Camille realized she might have gone too far in insulting him.
“We still have business,” Max declared. “Less than usual, but we still have some. We’re doing okay.”
“That’s not what I heard, I heard that ever since you lost the Italians to me and your nice little gambling ring, that you’ve been hurting badly. Catherine’s gone, and from what I’m hearing, the word on the street is that Violet could be next. What are you going to do when that happens?”
People in the neighborhood had contacts in the police department and were gossiping.
“I’ll take over if that happens,” Max told her.
“I won’t let you, and I have the Italians on my side, so they won’t let you.”
She tensed and Max tensed, and she kept her eyes on him, to make sure he wouldn’t pull a gun. She had a gun and she had Danny there for backup, who was also armed, but one could never be sure what kind of tricks Max had up his sleeve.
“Is that what you came here to do, to threaten me?” Max held her gaze, but Camille didn’t back down.
“No, I’m making you an offer to work with me.”
Max laughed. “Are you kidding me?”
“No.”
“Why would you want me to work with you, after everything?” he asked.
“Can we come inside?” she said, gesturing to her and Danny.
Max looked from her to Danny, as if unsure.
“Derrick cal
led me last night and told me you got some of our guys,” he said to Camille.
“Yes, Pat and Danny here.”
“I’m disappointed in you,” Max said to Danny with a ferocious stare. “But I’m even more disappointed in Pat, who has known the McCarthys for quite some time. I always knew you were a little punk,” he said to Danny.
Danny bolted forward as if he would hit Max and Camille blocked his way. So much for Max ‘liking’ Danny.
“Calm down,” she told both men. “I’m here to talk, that’s all, to see if we can come up with an arrangement. I promise you that it’s worth your time to hear me out.”
She didn’t know Max well despite seeing him around the pub, but he was a gangster, and she knew that like many gangsters, he liked the sound of a good deal.
Max nodded. “Come in,” he said, and Danny entered first followed by Camille.
Inside, Max had a simple, unadorned office and it looked like he had just set up shop. He had a table with two phones and a few chairs and a large chalkboard to keep track of bets. He gestured to the chairs, but Camille shook her head. She didn’t trust him well enough to sit down and relax.
“We’ll stand,” she told him.
“Fine, but I’m sitting,” Max said, and did just that.
Camille had the urge to ask him what her father’s last moments were like—had he suffered or gone quickly?—because she had always wondered, now that she had him one on one. But she knew that asking him that question would make her appear vulnerable in his eyes and she didn’t want him to have the upper hand; she wanted to control Max.
“Make it quick because I’m busy,” Max told her with a smirk.
“I don’t see anyone,” she said.
“I got people coming in soon.”
Danny stood to her right and stayed quiet as she’d instructed. “You’ve told me that you would run the McCarthys’ racket if Violet gets sent away,” Camille said to Max.
“That’s right.”
“But I won’t let you, and the Italians will help me make sure of that.”