—Rainer Maria Rilke
“Why did McLuskey do it, Jim?”
I knew she’d ask sooner or later. Roz Kennedy was a good cop, but had no grasp of subtleties.
“Every cop’s got a breaking point, Roz—Remember that kid we rescued from the crack house? Her eyes haunted you for weeks.”
Roz remembered all too well. A nine-year old girl with dead eyes—eyes that had seen too much and been scared too often. She shuddered just thinking about it.
“Yeah, I get that—but she was just a kid. McLuskey was a detective for ten years and tried to shield a hooker.”
I sighed. It was going to be one of those conversations.
“Look, Roz, easy enough for you to call her a hooker. Bernie got to know her and saw another side. She wasn’t a whore to him.”
We were driving out in the country now, on our way to see Gus D’Amico, head of the Jersey mob. I wanted to talk strategy—not get tangled up in Roz’s angst.
She was on a roll now. “I try to keep things straight, you know—good guys versus bad guys—I hate bad cops.”
“McLuskey’s not a bad cop!” It was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
“How can you defend what he did? C’mon Jim—he concealed evidence.”
“I’m not defending what he did.”
“Sounds like it to me,” she huffed, and stared out her window.
Why the hell do I get into these Jackpots? I should have shut her down the minute she began.
We drove down a private road that ended at an electric gate.
“What now?” she asked. There was no intercom or buzzer.
“Just wait—they know we’re here.”
A minute later a man approached from the rear of the unmarked car.
“You here on business?”
We flashed our badges.
He nodded and unlocked the gate.
“Friendly type,” Roz said.
“If you were Gus D’Amico, you wouldn’t be too friendly.”
“I wouldn’t be Gus D’Amico,” she grimaced.
This time I wisely said nothing.
We drove on and pulled around a bend. A huge mansion with large white columns came into view.
“Who says crime don’t pay,” she chuckled.
The same scene from the fence was replayed at the door, with a dark, poker-faced man checking our ID. Gus was waiting in the dining room.
“Come in, Lieutenant—Have you eaten? There’s lots here.” His hand swept over the heavily laden table.
“No thanks, Mr. D’Amico.”
“I suppose you can’t drink either?” He lifted a decanter of dark red wine.
I gave a wry smile and shook my head.
We sat down opposite him. A man of his wealth still drinking homemade vino—Strange.
D’Amico began. “You said you had some important information to tell me?”
“Mr. D’Amico…” He frowned and I corrected myself, “Gus—it seems that Vito Cortese has put out a contract on you. One of our informants passed word to us last night that you’re in imminent danger.”
Gus shook his head sadly. He took a sip of wine, but I could see his hands were trembling.
All of a sudden a little girl burst into the room and ran to him, “Nonno, Nonno!”
“Hey, Bella! What are you doing here?”
“Mama brought me to see you.”
Gus scooped the little girl into his arms and hugged her. “I’ll play with you in the garden later, but right now, Nonno has to talk with his guests. Okay?”
The little girl gazed at Roz and me with huge brown eyes. “Okay, Nonno.”
“Go see Mama now.”
She went back through the arched doorway to the back of the house.
“I’m sorry—that’s Pina, my granddaughter.”
“She’s beautiful,” Roz said.
“Thank you.”
“Gus,” I continued, “we’re concerned Cortese wants to start a turf war and we don’t want this to get out of hand.”
“I understand.” He paused and looked out the window at the autumn trees just beginning to turn color outside. “I’m safe here.”
It was a case of two solitudes. We met Gus and greeted him but he’d never allow anybody outside his family to get close enough to touch, let alone protect him.
I knew who he was, but still liked him. And I had a bad feeling this wouldn’t turn out well for any of us.
Comienza una nueva historia, @johnjgeddes. Esta se ve que tiene un buen corte policial. Los personajes, hasta los momentos, guardan muchos secretos que seguro iremos desentrañando como nos tienes acostumbrados. Esa primera parte estuvo poética y el epígrafe con el poema de Rilke, conmovedor. Bonito domingo, mi estimado.
Gracias, Nancy - es algo nuevo - un género diferente - Después de esto, puedo probar el romance paranormal :)
I am afraid that without your intention you will always daringly surprise me ... I loved it! I managed to immerse myself in each word ... I think you'll have a new faithful reader. I hope you like it ..Thanks...
Thanks, Celeste - Yes, I covet readers :)
Pues eso es atractivo.
How did Jim know it was homemade wine? I know ... that is the detail I get stuck on ... lol. A great start here, John:)
generic bottles used for homemade wine :)
I see ... I imagined a fancy-dancy decanter:)
Hmmm. What has you up your sleeve with this one?
ha ha, something new for sure :)
A good new story . I'll wait next chapter
Have a nice day
Upvoted
thanks, @mllg
You're welcome
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