“Va fa’nculo!” Vic winced as Sal slammed his cards down so hard it made the table jump. Vic and Bennie, Sal’s two captains, were at the Three Aces playing pinochle with their boss and a few of the lackeys who hung out at the social club. Unfortunately for all of them, Sal hadn’t won a hand in the last hour. Not only was Sal upset, he was also in the hole for a few hundred bucks, a combination that did little for his disposition.
Vic looked anywhere but at Sal. He’d been down this road many times before and could tell his boss was right on the edge—just looking for a reason to go crazy. He also knew from firsthand experience anything could happen when Sal was in a patzo mood, and he didn’t want it to happen to him.
One of the younger soldiers at the table, Louie, wasn’t so savvy. “Too bad.” He smiled smugly at the boss as he counted up the points. “Losing’s no big deal. It can happen to anyone. Hang in there. Your luck will change.”
Vic shot Bennie a look, waiting for Sal to react, maybe take out a gun and shoot the kid. To his surprise, Sal ignored the jibe and pushed his chair away from the table. “Deal me out,” Sal said. “I’m going to the office. There are some things I gotta do.” He moved toward his office at the back of the club and called over his shoulder to Angelo, the Three Aces’ waiter, “Bring me a double espresso and a shot of Sambuca. Ange, make it hot and make it fast.”
As soon as Sal was out of the room, Vic let out a sigh and turned toward Louie, shaking his head at the young punk who gave Sal the business.
“What?” Louie looked up from the cards he shuffled. “What’d I do?”
Vic stared at him and shook his head in wonder. “Let me ask you something: are you just stupid, or do you maybe have a death wish?” Vic paused to let his words sink in. “Either way, you ain’t gonna be around too much longer you keep acting like that in front of the boss.”
“I didn’t say nothing. I was just breaking his balls.” Louie turned a sickly shade of white. “I didn’t mean no disrespect.”
“Breakin’ balls ain’t such a good idea when the boss is losing. I think you better take off now and reflect on how you should be handling yourself if you want to get ahead in this crew.”
When Louie was gone, Vic looked at Bennie and jutted his chin sharply toward the club’s office. “He tell you what’s going on?”
“No. You?” Bennie said.
“Nah. Madonna, I think it’s serious.” Vic shook his hand up and down to emphasize his point. “He’s been in some mood all day.”
Bennie nodded in agreement. “You got that right. It’s got something to do with that damn woman detective. He should have clipped her when we paid her a visit the other day.”
Vic shrugged in an I-don’t-get-it-either gesture. “I think he’s meeting her later today. I heard him telling Ralphie he needs him to drive him.”
“Ralphie, huh? That kid’s been sticking his nose up the boss’ ass every chance he gets the last few days. I don’t like it. I think we should keep an eye on him.”
“All right. Whatever. You want an espresso and a shot?”
“Might as well.” Bennie picked up the cards, then glanced toward the back room. “Who knows how long we’re gonna be here.”
* * *
Suave Sal sipped his espresso slowly, savoring its nutty aroma and the sharp licorice taste the Sambuca added. It took all his self-control not to smack that kid Louie from here to Mott Street. He was way out of line. But, today was not the day to teach him a lesson. The little punk would have to wait.
Sal drummed his fingers on the table. Today he had more important things to take care of. He had to stay focused and in control. He was busy tying up all the loose ends on the ATM banking deal his nephew let uncoil. Getting that DVD back was the most important item on the list. If the star of the DVD, who prided himself on being a very recognizable, media-friendly member of the New York Banking Commission, found out he was recorded, he’d panic. They only filmed him as a safety measure, a little insurance against him becoming too greedy. Sal never meant for him to know about the DVD and so far he didn’t.
Sal also didn’t want him ready with a cover-his-ass excuse if it leaked. Sal smiled grimly at the thought. He’d make the guy disappear before he let that happen. They’d find him months from now, floating in Sheepshead Bay. Of course, that’d mean delaying the deal until they could entice someone else in the Consumer Services Division office, and the consortium wouldn’t like that. Not with the profits they’d lose in the meantime. Sal hoped there were no other important details his nephew had let drop.
Sal raised the tiny espresso cup to his lips and took another sip. Much as he hated the idea, he might have to do something about his nephew, too. This deal was the most important one he was in on and the kid just wasn’t handling it right. What was wrong with him, letting some girl get over on him that way and bringing in a private detective to investigate him, Sal Santucci’s nephew? There was no excuse for it, putting himself at risk after all Sal did to protect him and keep their connection concealed. Mateo should be controlling the relationship, not letting this woman walk all over him.
Sal put his fist to the middle of his chest and pushed against his sternum. Thinking about it is giving me agita. Basta. I gotta stop. He swirled the last bit of the espresso around and tossed it back. It slid down his throat, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.
He put the empty espresso cup down on its saucer. Then there is Helen McCorkendale. Women like her infuriated him. Who did she think she was, looking into his affairs? She already knew too much and what she didn’t know, she’d make it her business to find out. Once he got the DVD back, he’d deal with her, too.
Sal hunched over his desk. He checked his watch, then reached for the phone. It was time to start gathering up those loose ends and tying them up nice and tight.