Vincent sits in his office contemplating how he’ll pursue his project for Shoes. In order to be the best private eye, he’ll need to procure state of the art of equipment—electronic wiretaps and other bugging devices. He’s seen the effectiveness of these from his experience in the Army. That’s why, a few days prior, he reached out to a firm based in Virginia, headed by an ex-military intelligence officer, Lieutenant Colonel Allan D. Bell, Jr. Bell invited Vincent to visit the following week, and he counts the days before his trip, excited at the prospect of acquiring new knowledge.
Vincent is leaving his office when his crew calls him. He tells them to meet him at his house in an hour. When he arrives, Angelo, Mikey, and Alphonse are waiting in Mikey’s car.
“We have a score we’re working on,” Mikey says. “And we wanted to run it by you and see if you are interested.”
“I told you guys that I’m not interested in scores right now.” When he sees the crestfallen looks on their faces, he adds, “But go on.”
“Alphonse found this score,” Mikey continues. “It’s a jewelry store with limited security. The tipster is the nephew of the owner.”
“Another nephew? That fact alone turns me off,” Vincent replies. “Alphonse, do you have a death wish or what? I got you a job, so what’s the problem?”
Alphonse’s face turns red, but then he gets a grip on himself. “I didn’t want to trouble you with this,” Alphonse says. “But I feel like you should know. My mother has been diagnosed with a liver disorder—and she has no insurance.”
“Fuck. What can I do?”
“Nothing,” Alphonse replies, “just don’t get in my way for now. I know you have the best intentions, but I have no choice.”
Vincent slowly shakes his head.
“Alright, I’m not gonna actively participate, but I will help in every way I can. Give me all the specifics in massive detail.”
They talk for over an hour until Vincent knows enough to come up with a game plan. They will move tonight, no use wasting time. Angelo promises to report to Vincent first thing in the morning with the results of their score. When the crew leaves, Vincent goes back to planning his trip to Virginia.
At ten the next morning, Vincent hasn’t heard from anyone. He’s about to walk out onto Taylor Street to look for the crew when the phone rings.
“Hello?”
“‘Cenzo, it’s Angelo. Meet me at Mama Schiavone’s at noon.” Then he hangs up.
An hour later, Vincent shows up at Mama Schiavone’s. He spots Angelo sitting alone at the back of the dining area of the family-style restaurant, a Neighborhood landmark.
“Angelo, what happened? Everything go okay?”
Angelo frowns.
“Yeah, we’re okay but there was a problem,” he says, in a quiet voice. “The old fart who owns the store surprised us—at four in the fucking morning! We were packing up and just about to leave when he came in. He sees us and starts yelling. Mikey grabbed him and as they struggled, the old man pulled Mikey’s ski mask off. Mikey beat him unconscious, but the old man got a good look at him.”
Angelo sits back in his chair and looks around to make sure no one is paying attention to their conversation.
“I checked the old man’s pulse,” he continues, “and he was breathing. We had the air, so we listened for a few minutes, but no cops came around. So, we left. I just hope the old man didn’t croak.”
Vincent sighs. He’s involved now. He has no choice—these are his guys. Very calmly, he asks, “Where is everybody?”
“Mikey has the take. He will call us later. I think he drove out to Indiana or somewhere, where his aunt lives. My wife said he hasn’t called yet, so I called you. Alphonse just went home.”
Vincent sums up their position: “So, if the old man lives, he could identify Mikey, which is bad enough. But if he dies, then we have a major league problem.”
Vincent gives the matter some thought. He doesn’t have a solution yet, but Angelo doesn’t need to know that.
“Okay, here’s what you do. Go home and wait to see if Mikey calls. I will drop by Alphonse’s and keep him calm. Whatever you do, do not discuss this with anyone else. And don’t panic, Angelo. You got that?”
“Yeah, okay Vincent, but I’m worried about Mikey. I don’t know what he’s gonna do.” Angelo is visibly shaken.
“Okay, give me the address of the score, and I will see what I can find out. Now go home. And most of all: Don’t. Fucking. Panic.”
Angelo gives Vincent the store address and then leaves. Vincent sits for a few moments and then gets into his car. He needs to assess the situation firsthand and determine the fallout. And to do that, Vincent must be careful. He cannot just walk up to the jewelry store and ask for information. That would arouse suspicion. Though he’s got his private detective’s license, he hasn’t received his ID card yet, which he might be able to flash. Instead, he may have to rely solely on his gagging skills.
Vincent parks a couple of blocks from the store. Outside on the street, he finds a pay phone and calls Bill Faraday, his connection in the local police department. Faraday doesn’t answer. Vincent will have to scope out the situation himself. He walks up the street, strolling by the store, which he’s amazed to find open. There’s even a young couple inside looking at wedding rings. For a moment, he wonders if he’s at the right place. He crosses the street to a grocery store that stands directly across from the jewelers. He makes a beeline to the elderly lady at the cash register.
“Excuse me, Ma’am,” Vincent says, pulling a gag line from his old days. “My name is James Fredricks. I’m an insurance accident investigator.”
“Hi dear, I’m Lily.”
“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lily. I was wondering if you saw the car crash across the street this morning?”
“I didn’t see any accident,” she replies. “The only thing I know is that the owner of the jewelry store had a stroke.”
“No, poor thing.”
“I know!” She leans in, as if to tell him a secret. “Apparently, the owner’s daughter found him on the floor when she got in this morning, and the safe had been broken into.”
“Oh, dear,” Vincent says, feigning concern.
“Anyway, I think everyone’s fine now, thank Christ. The daughter called for an ambulance, and they took him to the hospital. I saw them leave. I was sitting right here.”
“I’m sorry but, how do you know all of this?”
“My daughter, Sarah—she’s single, you know—is friends with Cora, Sam Bernstein’s daughter, you know—the owner. She came by this morning.”
“I’m surprised the store is open now. Surely they must have called the police?”
“You know, I don’t know! It seems a little fishy if you ask me. But they definitely didn’t. I haven’t seen any police there, and I’ve been here since eight.”
Vincent’s mind is churning. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. But he stays cool. He thanks the old busybody and leaves the store, thinking What the fuck!
Next, Vincent returns to the pay phone and calls Angelo. He tells him to meet up at Ali Baba’s in an hour. Then he drives to Alphonse’s house. When he gets there, he finds Alphonse and Ralphie cleaning out their car.
“Alphonse, we need to talk.”
“Here?”
“Let’s take a walk,” Vincent says. “Ralphie, we’ll be back in an hour.”
As they walk toward the beef stand, Vincent scans for more busy bodies. He sees none.
“Okay, tell me.”
“Just bad luck, Vincent,” Alphonse says, before proceeding to confirm Angelo’s story.
“So, you don’t know what you guys took?”
“No, not really. Like I said, we were just shoving things in the bag when the door opened.”
When they get to Baba’s, they sit on the bench outside and wait. Soon, Angelo drives up, and gestures for them to get in the car.
“Mikey called,” Angelo says, as they drive away. “He’s at his Aunt Ginny’s house in Flossmoor, near the Indiana border. She lives there alone after her husband died. Anyway, Mikey did the right thing. He ditched the work car and called Fat Louie’s guy to tell them where it was. They’ll pick it up.”
Then Vincent shares what he’s learned. Their reaction is the same: What the fuck?
“There must be a reason the daughter didn’t call the police, and I’m guessing the answer was in that safe. We need to find out what,” Vincent says. “Did Mikey look in the bags to see what you guys got?”
“No, he stashed them in his aunt’s garage as soon as he got there.”
“We need to know why this jeweler came in at four in the morning. Maybe he was going to retrieve what was in the safe, and maybe that’s why he got so worked up.”
“Who knows?” Alphonse says.
“Okay, Ange, drive me to my house,” Vincent says. “I want to pick up some things up before we go down there.”
At home, Vincent is immediately confronted by his mother.
“Tony called. He says you have to go see Marco at nine tomorrow morning. He says you know where to go.”
“Okay, tell Papa Tony that I’ll be there first thing.”
Then, looking out the window at Angelo’s car, Teri adds, “Where are you off to?”
“Southside.
Vincent rushes to his bedroom, grabs his wallet and some cash and stuffs them in his pocket. He kisses his mother’s cheek on his way out the door.