The Frenchman's Revenge (27 page)

It didn’t help Martin that
Greg
used every
op
portunity
he had to undermine Martin’s credibility and exalt his own
.
As disg
usting as he was,
M
artin was a useful
pawn
for Greg
.
Until he was ready to take him out
,
Greg used
M
artin as a buffer
, a scape
goat
.
A comment here, a shrug of a shoulder there
,
or
with
a
distressed
smile
,
he made sure
M
artin
got the
responsibility for the fuck ups while
Greg insinuated
himself gracefully
into the
victories.

It
took
Greg
a couple of years to worm his way to the mob’s top echelon. Two years ago
,
he suggested a scheme that
was
phenomenally successful
--
and lucrative.
Marcello had been undyingly grateful
.
Greg was uninterested in gratitude. A third of Aldo’s take was enough for now.

In Greg’s humble opinion
,
no one was as smart as he was or
,
frankly
,
as unscrupulous.
U
nlike
M
artin’s
overbearing bluster,
on the surface
Greg was smooth,
cordial
, and seemingly deferential.
He
played the back room
,
always deal
ing f
rom the bottom of the deck
.
The only person he hadn’t been able to outsmart,
or f
ool with his
flattering
exterior
was
t
he Frenchman. But now that he had Aldo Marcello
’s
muscle
behind him, it was only a matter of time.

Shoving his anger down to his roil
ing
gut,
Greg
pasted a
disingenuous
smile on his face
. I
n as nonchalant a voice as he could
muster
,
he said, “
You are no doubt correct
,
Martin
.
We are not being paid at the level we should be given
our expertise and
the dangers we face
. H
owever
,
at this point
,
we should deal with first things first and the next thing we n
eed to do is
report
to the governor.”

“And then,” he added with a grim sigh, “we will need to decide what the hell
we’re
going to tell Aldo.
”

He added with
a
n unctuous
smile, “As always
,
I’m pleased to write the report
,
but given the importance
of the issue
,
you
should be the one to sign it.”

Martin’s fat chest puffed
out
,
a preening peacock.
He patted Greg on the arm and said with a solicitous
grin
,

“Of course, Greg.
With a matter this important
,
the report
should
come f
rom me
,
given
who I am
--
my position.
But you
write
it up.
I never was good at those clerk duties.
”

Greg stifled a
n angry retort
and contented himself
,
imagining how he would kill
th
e
fat pretentious prick.
A bullet would be too simple
--
not vi
olent
or painful enough
. Bu
t Greg didn’t like to get his hands dirty
; h
e didn’t have a weekly manicure for nothing.
No, it would need to be a bullet – or maybe several bullets
. Given Martin’s pea sized brain, it would be better to start with his heart and
then several
shots
straight between his eyes
– or maybe one in each eye
.

Chapter 1
2

The sweet smell of opium filled the room and softened the faces of the bleary eyed girls sprawled in unseemly
half naked
mounds on the bare floor.
If any of them heard the
old man’s
furious invective
, they ignored it
,
sunk in
blessed oblivion.

“
God damn you to hell, Pauli.
You fucking, ignorant
piece of pig shit.
”

Pauli, t
he
trembling
object of the tirade
and
the unlucky messenger who
brought the news
,
kept his eyes down
cast
,
risking
an un
see
n
blow rather than
face
the
hideous
wrath
of the
man
berating
him.

The
outraged
man was short,
slight;
at first glance
,
an old man
pounding on the table
with clenched fists
. He looked
more like a spoiled two year old child
than the leader of the Brooklyn based
mob
, the largest and most vicious of the East
Coast
Costa
Nostra
gangs.

Glaring at the circle of silent men in front of him,
Aldo Marcello
visibly struggl
ed
to control his anger
. Shaking,
he
spit out his furious questions, enraged bullets of venom directed at the cowering men in front of him.

“Tell me
. S
omeone
?
A
nyone
?
H
ow
were
twenty
of
our
highly trained Costa
N
ostra fighters burned alive in one of
our
brothels, fifty pieces of
our
valuable merchandi
s
e stolen
,
and no one,
no one
,” his voice r
ose
as he spoke end
ing
in
a
shriek, “NO ONE knows where they are or how to get them back?”

Carlos, t
he bravest of his lieutenants
,
ventured to speak.

“Look, Aldo.
Tony has been telling us for
months
that they have this crazy Chink out there that
no one can get a bead on.
He’s like some savage holdover from the days of Genghis Kahn. They call him
t
he Frenchman because he’s half French or some
crap
like that. Tony warned us...”

“I don’t give a shit about that fat fuck Tony!” Aldo screamed.
“Do you hear me?
I’m glad the fucker is dead.
All he ever did was eat up the profits, but even Tony
,
as pitiful as he was
,
would not have let a bunch of
dirty
Chinks, do what these assholes did.
God damnit,
are you all so stupid?
Don’t you see? I
t has to be the Micks.
They are trying to pull a fast one on us.”

Carlos took a deep breath and
with
his life in his hands
, he
disagreed.

“It would be easier if it was the Micks, Aldo.
At least we know where they are and who the fuck they are.
But it wasn’t.
Every
San Francisco
cop and pol in our pocket is telli
n
’
us the same thing.
It was that
asshole
,
t
he Frenchman.”

Aldo’s voice dropped to a
sinister
growl
and he enunciated each word
.

“And if the cops and pols
, those sons of bitches we pay up the ass,
know who
did it
,
then where the goddamn hell are
my
puss
ie
s this Chink bastard stole?”

Carlos sighed again
.

“That’s just it, Aldo.
Not only did this asshole take our girls, he is flaunting it and
,
according to our people on the ground
,
there is not a damn thing any
one of them can or will do to get them back.
N
obody is willing to go up against
t
he Frenchman.
”

~~~

Long after
Aldo
had beaten the
drugged
girls
unconscious
and their bloody
bodies hauled
away
,
and the shards of a case of whiskey bottles
he’d
smashed against the wall swept up
,
and
Pauli’s
dismembered body crated and disposed of, Carlos sat across from his leader and waited for instructions.

With sparkling eyes and i
n a voice
exhilarated
by
his
lethal
tantrum
, Aldo said,
“Get
him.”

Carlos nodded and left the room.

~~~

Rory Calhoun raised his glass to the
beaming
owner of O’Donnell’s Pub and shouted out a gleeful order, “C’mon
,
Patty, keep ‘em coming. Refills all around!
Goddamn, I ask y
e
men,
do we have
a reason to celebrate
or not
?”

A raucous roar of laughter filled the room and a whiskey fueled chant of “Hell
,
yes!” coursed through the pub
, thirty members of Calhoun’s gang raising their glasses a
s high as t
heir voices
.

Rory’s
normally ruddy cheeks were glowing
flushed
from
the
liquid
c
elebration that showed no signs of
abating
any time soon.
It wasn’t every day
that
Aldo Marcello’s gang
, their bitter rival,
was brought to its knees. Rory wasn’t dumb
, he
kn
ew
that it could as easily been his gang
. B
ut
he knew a
reason
to celebrate
and
,
Holy
Mary
Mother of God
,
this was one fuckin
’
good reason.

“Sorry,
Liam
, to make you repeat the story
,
but it is just too damn good.
I gotta relish it.
You’re
sayin’
that they
crawled
right up
Aldo’s
ass and burned down
his
flagship brothel AND the twenty gang members inside?
Burned
‘
em alive?”