by Alves, Carl
“I got all kinds of motherfuckin’ problems,” Fat Paulie said, after he had been admitted in.
“What’s wrong?” Enzo used the calm and professional demeanor he tried to maintain with his associates.
“It’s this fucking recession. It’s getting harder and harder to collect. It’s always business is tough, money’s slow; can’t pay right now. I had to give an order to break Desouza’s hand with a hammer. Motherfucker just wouldn’t pay.”
Enzo sighed. “My daughter plays soccer with his kid.”
Fat Paulie shrugged. “This son of a bitch recession’s killing me. Businesses are going belly up.”
“Listen Paulie, these things are cyclical.”
Fat Paulie frowned. “What are you talkin’ about, boss?”
Sometimes it was hard for him to deal with his less educated underlings. “Recessions are cyclical, meaning the economy will perform well for some time, and then there’ll be a cooling off period where unemployment is higher and profits are lower. This will kill off some firms, but the ones who survive the shakeout will come out stronger.”
Fat Paulie folded his arms. “So what’s this got to do with us, boss?”
Trying to contain his frustration, Enzo put his palm to his head. “It means these small companies will perform better when the economy is doing better. Then we’ll have a valuable firm we control. If not, we can still liquidate them and sell off their assets. The main thing is we control the company if they can’t pay. Got it?”
Fat Paulie’s eyes narrowed and he nodded slowly. “Sure thing, boss.”
“So the rules stay the same. Keep away from the losers who don’t look like they can pay back and target those that have businesses or personal assets we can seize.”
“And if they don’t agree?” Fat Paulie asked.
“You know what to do, but make it discreet.”
“Okay, boss. Will do.”
“And for God’s sake, lay off Desouza. He’s got assets. I’ll work out a deal with him.”
After Fat Paulie left, Tony Scrambolgni and The Goat entered. The Goat had this almost crazed look on his face, like he had just gone face to face with the Devil. He looked much older than twenty-nine. Tony, on the other hand, looked like a parent who had been called into school because his child was misbehaving. Enzo leaned back in his chair, his curiosity piqued.
The Goat was a strong earner, running the books well in his section of South Philadelphia. He had the potential to be an excellent earner, but he was a hothead with a vicious temper. Not to mention, Enzo heard rumors about a possible heroin habit. His top guys had to be clean. That was non-negotiable.
After exchanging greetings, Tony said, “Enzo, I don’t know why I’m here. This son of a bitch is talking crazy shit. I don’t know. He’s like seeing ghosts.”
“It wasn’t a ghost,” The Goat yelled.
Scrambolgni glared at him. “Anyway, I don’t know what the kid’s got going on in that soft head of his, but he’s been telling me some wild shit. I told him he’s fucked up, but he insisted I take him to see you.” Tony shrugged. “What can I say? The kid’s persistent.”
Enzo gave a comforting smile. “Tell me what you have come here to say. You look distressed. What’s going on?”
“Mr. Salerno, I know this is gonna sound fucked up, but I swear it’s true.”
“Call me Enzo. Now relax and tell me your story.”
“Enzo, what I’m gonna tell you is gonna sound crazy. Believe me, I’d think it’s crazy too if I didn’t just go through it. But it’s all fucking true. You gotta believe me.”
“Just tell me what happened,” Enzo said in his soothing voice. “I’ll judge if it’s crazy.”
The Goat went through his entire outlandish story starting from when he was in Frankie’s Steaks to his trip to the strip joint and then to Tina Monterulo’s apartment. He finished with the discovery of two corpses and his near-death experience with an inhuman invader.
Enzo’s face went white when he heard about Johnny Gunns. “My God.” He put his hands to his face and turned to Tony. “Is this true? Is Johnny dead?”
Tony made the sign of the cross. “I checked with a source inside the coroner’s office. Both he and his lady friend Tina were DOA.”
Enzo shook his head. “My God.” His throat constricted. “My father and his uncle were good friends. They used to go on fishing trips to Cape May.” Rage smoldered inside of Enzo, sucking out his grief. “Someone clipped Johnny Gunns, and you come here with some bullshit story about a fucking vampire. What do you think, I’m fucking stupid or something?” He smashed his closed fist against his desk. “You have some kind of balls and you’ll be lucky if I don’t string you up by them before this is over. Johnny’s dead, and you’re telling me it’s a vampire. Tell me, do you think I’m dumb enough to believe this shit?”
The Goat leaned over the desk. His face showed sincerity. “Look Enzo, you gotta believe me. I saw this thing with my own two eyes and he wasn’t fucking human. He was…”
“Enough with this shit. You say that again, and God help me, I’ll cut your fucking throat.”
The Goat wouldn’t give up. “Enzo, think about it. If what I’m telling you turns out to be complete bullshit, then I’m a dead man. I got absolutely nothing to gain by this. Come on, you’re a smart guy, and I’m not just saying that. You’re smarter than anyone around here by a fucking mile. No offense, Tony, but you are. So why would I come in here with a bullshit story? I’m telling you this because it’s true. What I saw scared the shit out of me.”
Enzo quelled his rising anger. Although the story was complete lunacy, The Goat had a compelling point. If it were not true, then his career—if not his life—would be rendered meaningless. Enzo stared at him. He wasn’t drunk or high, and he looked dead serious.
Enzo didn’t live in a world where the undead walked. In his world, people got whacked for financial and territorial reasons, or even personal reasons. Someone you knew might flip and become an FBI informant, or an employee might kill you for personal gain. That was the risk of doing business. What The Goat told him was storybook fantasy stuff.
Enzo pondered this while Tony and The Goat remained silent. “Although I put no credence in your story, you’d have to be insane to make it up, and you don’t strike me as being crazy. Therefore, Johnny’s death, may God rest his soul, will be investigated, and we’ll find who killed him. He was a good man, and rest assured, someone will pay.”
Scrambolgni stared at Enzo wide-eyed, while The Goat took a long breath.
“Tony, you’ll oversee this matter. Contact our guys on the force and find out everything you can. Also, call Johnny’s mother and tell her we’re going to get to the bottom of this. This is going to kill her. What a sweet lady.”
Tony nodded. “I’ll get right to it, boss.”
“Thank you, Enzo.” The Goat extended his hand, and Enzo shook it. “Thank you. You’ll find out that what I’m saying is true. I wish this shit was all in my fucking head, believe me.”
They left Enzo’s office. With all Enzo had to worry over, adding this worsened his headache. He considered taking more Advil, but decided against it. Instead he opted for a walk in the late spring air. If Sophie was available, she could accompany him. There was much they needed to discuss, but for now he would not tell her about The Goat’s story. He would wait to hear what Tony had to say before making any decisions.
Chapter Three
Tony “the Wop” Scrambolgni wasn’t thrilled about his assignment. What was he supposed to do, confirm Johnny Gunns got wacked by a vampire? Maybe the others were right about Enzo being a little soft or crazy. But Enzo was the boss, and Tony would do what he was told.
Tony waited inside Nunzio’s Pastry Shop for Detective Brown from Homicide. Brown asked to meet at Nunzio’s because of his fondness for cannolis. The fat pig couldn’t get enough of them. Even though it was obvious he despised Enzo’s “family”, calling them greaseballs and worse, he didn’t have
a problem being on Enzo’s payroll.
Detective Brown came late for his meeting with Tony, like he was too good for him. He scanned the pastries before seeking Tony’s table. He sat down and put an envelope in front of him. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you fucking people.”
“What are you talking about?” Tony asked.
Brown’s face tightened. “What kind of fucking hit was that? Whoever did this was a sick fuck. I’ve seen crazy shit, but this was over the top.”
Tony glared at him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The fucking bodies you asked me about. I ain’t never seen a crime scene like it. There was blood everywhere. I saw their bodies at the morgue. Both had massive punctures in their throats. Their chests were caved in. That chick, Tina, her lungs collapsed. Johnny’s liver and heart were removed from the body. They had scratch and bite marks all over. The girl’s flesh was torn all the way down her stomach. See the pictures for yourself.”
Tony sat in stunned silence. What kind of psycho was he dealing with? His heart thumped. He didn’t want to look at the pictures, but he had to see them. Brown’s assessment didn’t do it justice. Even for a hardened career criminal like Tony, they were tough to see. “My God.” He didn’t make it to the end.
“So which one of you animals did this shit?” Spit shot out of Brown’s mouth.
Tony went face to face with Brown. “That was no hit. I’ve seen some pretty fancy hits, but that ain’t one of them. That’s…” Tony struggled for the right word. “…inhuman.”
“Whadaya mean inhuman? This is South Philly. You think we got wolves and tigers and shit running around here? Of course one of you guys did it.”
Tony leaned over the table. “Listen to me. Nobody gets clipped like that. I don’t know who or what did this, but that was no hit. Now you better watch your mouth, because my patience is running thin.”
“You and your fucking Guinea friends are all the same.”
Blood rushed to Tony’s face. The information wasn’t worth the aggravation. “I think it’s time for you to leave.”
“Fine.” Brown took the envelope and grabbed four cannolis for the road.
Tony thought about the pictures and The Goat’s story. If he were inclined to believe that vampires existed, which he was not, then maybe this creature could have killed Johnny and Tina. There had to be another explanation. Maybe a cult doing human sacrifices, or just some nut job.
He needed more information. He had another inside guy that could get him the coroner’s report. Meanwhile, he would find out if Johnny Gunns had any enemies deranged enough to tear him apart like that.
The first place he went was the murder scene, the row home of Johnny’s brother, Jim Debenedetto. He walked up and down the block. Earlier, The Goat told him the guy who killed them vanished, but people can’t vanish. Maybe he just made a quick getaway.
Tony studied the house and its positioning within the street. There were some younger kids at play, and some older ones acting like they were hot shit. The smell of home-made gravy wafted through the air. Typical of most sections in South Philadelphia, row homes lined this block of Westin Street.
The man must have exited through the front of the house to Seventh Street. One of the neighbors would have noticed the stranger. Sure, the cops interviewed the neighbors, but they wouldn’t say squat to them. They would be more receptive to talking to his people.
He rang the front doorbell. It took a few rings before Jim Debenedetto answered. He looked like shit. His answers to Tony’s questions were slurred and jumbled. He could barely understand any of it and left without any better idea about what happened.
Tony drove to the Cat House. A dancer was gyrating around the pole on the main stage, but she did it with little enthusiasm. The guys sitting at the tables near the stage sat back in their chairs and didn’t issue the normal round of catcalls. Even Joe Senneca, the manager of the club who always could get you rolling with a good joke, seemed depressed. Tina Monterulo’s death had cast a shadow on the club.
He followed Joe into his office. Joe sat behind his desk and took out a case of Cubans. He gave one to Tony, took one for himself, and lit them both.
“It’s a tragedy what happened to Johnny and that girl,” Tony said.
Joe waved his cigar. “Tina was real troubled, but she was a sensational dancer. The guys went crazy for her, especially Johnny. She was his favorite. And Johnny…well I can’t say enough about him. He was a good earner and had a big heart. Real generous, too. He bought the girls fancy gifts, bracelets and coats, the occasional plastic surgery.”
Tony took a puff of his Cuban. “He was one of the good ones. Fucked up way to die, I’ll tell you. Their bodies were torn to pieces. Had to be a real sicko to carry out that job.”
“You think it was a hit?”
Tony shrugged. “Who can tell?”
“It’s a fucked up world we live in.”
“So which one of the girls was Tina close with?”
Senneca put down his cigar. “That’s easy. Sam. Real smart girl. Cute as a button with a nice ass, let me tell you.”
“She around?”
“Sure.”
Tony followed Senneca out of his office. Two dancers were on stage showing their stuff. They went backstage to the quiet dressing room. Samantha sat in the corner reading a textbook.
Senneca put his hand on her shoulder. The girls seemed to like him even though he was touchy-feely, probably because he protected them.
She looked up at them.
“Sam, this is my associate, Mr. Scrambolgni. He wants to ask some questions about Tina. Mr. Scrambolgni is a very important man, so please cooperate with him.”
Sam gave a half smile. “Sure.”
“This won’t be long, honey,” Tony said. “I just had some questions about Tina and Johnny. I understand the two of you were close.”
“Myself and Tina, or Johnny?” she asked.
“Tina, of course. Joe tells me the two of yous spent a lot of time together.”
“We talked. She had her share of problems. We went out for drinks. Sometimes I would babysit her son.” Sam put her hand to her face and sobbed.
“It’s okay.” Tony didn’t get why women were so emotional. “Take your time.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam wiped tears from her eyes. “Why would someone kill her?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out,” Tony said.
He gave her time to regain her composure.
Sam choked back tears. “Tina was finally getting her life together.”
“Her and Johnny spent a lot of time together. Do you know if they were into anything weird? You know, some satanic bullshit, maybe the occult.”
Sam frowned and shrank back. “She wasn’t into anything like that.”
“Did Tina have a drug problem?”
Samantha hesitated. “Yes. She did heroin, cocaine, all kinds of pills. But she was getting clean. I helped her enroll in a rehab center.”
Tony nodded. “What about Johnny?”
“I’m not sure. He supplied her.”
A drug deal gone bad? Not if Johnny was her supplier. If Johnny had trouble with dealers, Tony would have heard. He had spent most of the day questioning people who would know such things. Johnny didn’t owe drug money, and the different factions of dealers in the area would never kill someone in such a nasty fashion, especially someone with Johnny’s connections.
Samantha didn’t have any helpful answers. He was moved by her gentle nature. “You know this is no lifestyle for a girl like you. You’re too smart to be stripping.”
Sam shrugged. “I need to do it to put myself through school.”
“I got a friend who’s looking for someone to do some secretarial work. It pays good cash, but it ain’t exactly a legal business if you see what I’m saying.” Tony wrote down a number on a slip of paper and handed it to her.
“Yeah? Maybe I’ll look into it.”
“Good.” Tony
stared at the dancer. Even though Samantha was young enough to be his daughter, he wouldn’t mind having a little romp with her.
Tony didn’t know what to tell Enzo. He had to talk to the neighbors and pray they could give him some leads.
About the only upside to this whole deal for The Goat was his girlfriend Karen showing him great sympathy since the incident. She told him it was a blessing from God that he escaped death, and she was determined to make the most out of their time together. Normally they had a bi-polar relationship, always fighting and yelling at each other followed by hot sex and affection, but the past twenty-four hours had been pure bliss.
Karen had convinced him to tell Enzo Salerno about everything. She was the only one who believed him. She was a great girl, working at a beauty salon at Fourth and Shunk where she was the afternoon manager. They had been together for four years. She drove him crazy, and sometimes he treated her like crap, but the good times were real good.
When he entered their apartment, she hugged him for dear life. “So how did it go? What did he say?”
The Goat raised his brows. “They’re gonna look into it.”
“I told you,” Karen said. “I knew he’d believe you.”
He frowned. “I’m not so sure about that. I thought he was going to rip my fucking throat out until I convinced him there had to be something to what I said.”
“That’s great, Patrick.” Karen hugged him again. “I still can’t believe you were almost killed by the undead. It’s a miracle, I tell ya.”
“Relax with that miracle shit, okay.” She had been acting like a holy roller ever since that night. “The only reason I’m still alive is ‘cause that vampire heard the sirens and thought it would be a good idea to bust his ass out of there.”
Recalling that night still gave him chills. That monster’s strength was unlike anything he ever felt.
“So who’s looking into it?” Karen asked.
“Tony.”
Karen’s face tightened. According to her, Tony hit on her all the time. She was probably overreacting, and even if she wasn’t, what could he do about it?