Johnny took the subway home, got out at Clark Street, not the nearest subway to his office, and took a roundabout way home. He stopped twice. Once to tie his shoes, where he turned his head enough to see behind him—the street was empty, and once to light a cigarette, which gave him another chance to see if he was being followed. It was after 3am, Angie’s was dark, she closed at midnight, “If they want to start throwing up on the tables, or getting so drunk that fighting or screwing are their only options, they can go over to McNally’s,” she’d told him.
Johnny opened the front door and started up the stairs when he noticed a light coming from the bar. He walked around to the door that led to the bar.
“Hey Johnny,” said Angie, as if she wasn’t surprised to see him.
“Hey,” answered Johnny, “You’re up pretty late,” the bar was empty except for the bourbon that he knew Angie liked to drink once in a while.
“I’ve been waiting for you, Johnny,” she said.
Johnny looked puzzled, “For me? What for?”
He flashed on the conversation he’d always half expected, where Angie would tell him she’d sold the bar and the building. He knew she wanted Annabelle out of this environment.
“Sit down Johnny,” she said, then she put another glass on the bar and poured Johnny a drink.
Johnny sat.
She looked him straight in the eyes and kept her gaze locked into his.
“I know what you’re trying to do Johnny, and it ain’t going to work.”
Johnny pulled out of the stare down and took a sip of the bourbon.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said weakly.
Angie just kept staring.
Johnny was perplexed. “What does she know? he thought to himself, it couldn’t be anything to do with the feds.
“I know you’re working with the FBI.”
Johnny was dumbstruck.
“What are you talking about?” he tried to look unshaken, but knew he was failing miserably.
Angie poured herself another drink.
“The two men who visited you the other night. I know them,” Angie said flatly.
“Huh?” was Johnny’s response.
“Miller and Williams. I know them.”
Angie had surprised him more than a couple of times in the last two years, but this was on a whole different level.
“How?” he said.
“Long ago, in another life, I used to work for Norm Miller.”
Johnny drained his glass.
“What the hell are you talking about?
“It’s a long ugly story.”
“I think it’s time to tell me this long, ugly story, Angie,” said Johnny.
Angie grabbed a rag and started cleaning the bar, which was spotless.
Johnny caught her in mid swipe and pulled the rag out of her hands.
“Angie?”
Angie stopped, snatched the rag back.
“I grew up in the Bronx, around Arthur Ave. My father owned a butcher shop, it did pretty well; we had a nice life, my sister and I had our own rooms, we’d go on vacation every summer. Things were pretty good, then the mob moved in. They started with Emilio’s candy store. Came in and laid down the law—payments once a week.”
Johnny raised an eyebrow, “Or else?”
Angie started cleaning again.
“Yeah, or else.”
“I was twenty years old. I’d been living with my folks and going to Hunter College. You’re surprised?” She laughed, “I wanted to be a nurse,” she confided.
“Anyway, my dad came home with a broken nose one day. I heard him talking to mom about the guys who came in and pushed him around,” she bent down and started to clean the bar again.
“His own father had paid tribute to the mob back in Italy. I’d never seen him scared before. After that he changed, from a happy go lucky man thrilled by his success in America, to a fearful, nervous wreck. A few weeks later I overheard my mother and father arguing about the money he was paying them. She wanted to move to another state, he said he was too old to start all over again. How I needed to finish college. The pay out hadn’t been too bad in the beginning, but the mob families were starting to fight with each other and the Arthur Ave gang needed money. They pressed everybody—but especially my father. His business had grown and it was steady. But now, instead of less profit for him there was no profit, until finally he was losing money every week. He begged them to ease off, but they didn’t.”
Angie stopped cleaning an poured herself another drink. She refilled Johnny’s glass as well.
“They would come every Saturday after closing to collect. But this particular Saturday, my father was waiting for them with a pistol that he had gotten from who knows where. It was an old revolver. I don’t think my father ever even held a gun before. Anyway, they came in, demanded the money and my father pulled out the gun. The younger of the two slapped the gun out of my father’s hand and then proceeded to beat my father half to death. At the hospital the doctors weren’t sure if he would make it. He had about a dozen broken bones that included a cracked skull. He was in the operating room for six hours. He nearly died. When the doctors finally came out they told us he would make it, but wouldn’t be able to get back to work for at least two months, maybe more. His right leg was badly broken and he would never walk very well again. He told us we could go and see him for just a minute, but he wasn’t awake and would not be able to communicate. Mom and I went to see him. When we came out this man in a suit was talking with the doctor. They shook hands and he walked over to my mother and me. The stranger said he used to get his meat at the shop and would have conversations with my father about who was better, Robinson or DiMaggio. My mother was suspicious of this man she’d never seen in the neighborhood. But she smiled and said thank you. The next day he showed up at the house, I’d answered the door, surprised and a little unnerved. I told him my mother was taking a nap.
“That’s okay, he said, I wanted to speak to you. Can I come in for a minute?” I wasn’t sure what to do. He didn’t look like a criminal, he was dressed really well, expensive suit, shoes, tie, the whole nine yards. Actually, maybe he did look like a criminal, now that I think of it. But I let him in. Made him coffee to. He asked me what was going to happen to the shop. I thought that was a strange question, I mean there was more than one butcher in the area, but I told him my uncle was going to run it for a while and I would be helping out the days I wasn’t in school. Then he made his pitch.”
“Pitch?” asked Johnny.
“He told me, when the guys came back—and he said they would, I was to pay up. He asked me how much my father paid out. I said I didn’t know. Okay, He said, they’ll tell you how much. When they do ask them to give you a few weeks, say you don’t even have enough money to buy your regular inventory. What happens when they come back, I asked him. The department will give you cash when you need it, he told me. Then I asked him why and what did they want with me. He told me I was young and pretty and must be smart since I was going to college. He told me he thought I could help them.”
Angie frowned at Johnny, “Don’t look so surprised, Johnny, I was young and pretty, and I was smart.”
“What did he want?”
“He wanted me to act like this whole thing excited me.”
“Okay,” said Johnny, “let’s say you pulled the act off, then what?”
“Miller had a pretty good idea who were the main players in the racket on the avenue. They had made an example of my father. As far as they were concerned, he said, they had just frightened the shit out of everyone and most likely made some brownie points with their bosses.”
“I asked him who were the bosses. He said they were working on that. He said I was to try to strike up a conversation with the younger one, he said his name was Teddy. Teddy Asanarrow.
He said he had a pretty long record even though he was only in his twenties. Lots of Juvenile stuff, then a burglary charge that he had wriggled out of. He told me any information I could get would be helpful. He gave me a card with his phone number. “Call me after they first approach you.” The he gave me an envelope with fifty bucks in it. A couple of weeks later, they came back. I was in the back; my uncle was up front. He knew about the men and the protection racket, and he was scared, very scared. But he came to the shop every day. I think that’s the definition of bravery.”
“So, what happened?”
“I came out to the front and told my uncle to check the delivery out back.
The young one, Teddy, looked me over like I was a perfect Rib Eye.
“Hi Sweetheart. You’re new here,” he said.
I tried to act bored.
“My old man is in the hospital,” I looked into Teddy’s pretty blue eyes, “but you knew that.”
Teddy grabbed an apple from the basket, rubbed it up and down his arm. “Yeah. Sorry about that,” he said. “I liked the old guy, but he pulled a gun on me.”
He took a bite of the apple.
“I feared for my life.”
“I gave him the sexiest smile I could muster and said, “My old man wouldn’t know which way to point the thing. He’s a good guy but he’s weak.” Teddy must have thought he was god’s gift because he didn’t waste any time talking me up.
“So, you’re the man of the family?”
“Do I look like a man to you?” I said.
Angie put her palms on the bar. “And that was that. I reported back to Miller, he gave me another envelope and told me to try to engage Teddy in a conversation next time. He knew that Teddy liked the ladies, and might let something slip out. “Let’s give it a couple of weeks. It’s a real long shot, Angie, I know, but I’ve got nothing right now except we know something is brewing.”
But I wasn’t going to let these thugs get away with it. The next time he came in, alone by the way, I told him how bored with the job, how my father was such a loser that no wonder he got beat up. The next week he didn’t any money from me, instead he took me out to a bar in the city.”
Angie became silent.
“And?” asked Johnny.
“Teddy and I went out for over a month. He got pretty talkative after a few drinks. Miller got the information he was after. I had to close up the shop for a while. The Feds were able to put some of the bad guys in jail, nobody really big. But they got Teddy. Apparently, Teddy was moonlighting on some bank jobs. That’s how they got him. He caught some real time, but about six months later he took a shiv in his belly; I guess he was still talking too much.”
Johnny’s mind was reeling.
“Wow, Angie, that’s some story. I’m sorry Miller brought it all back. But what’s it got to do with me?
Angie put her hand over Johnny’s.
“They’ll use you, Johnny. They’ll use you and you may have to do things you’ll regret. I’m guessing Miller’s trying to run the same scam; the guy’s too lazy to come up with anything new. I’m guessing he wants you to try and convince the bad guys, you’re tired of working for pennies and want to join up.”
Johnny couldn’t believe his ears.
“Don’t do it, Johnny. It won’t work. They’ll never really trust you and you’ll just fall further down the rabbit hole.”
“I’ve already done it Angie. I met with Victor Gaglioni tonight. Told him I want in.”
“Then leave town for a while Johnny. Get as far away from here as you can.”
She opened a drawer and took out a wad of bills. “Here take this.”
Johnny raised his hands, “I’m not going anywhere until I find out who killed Vinnie and Fred.”
Angie smiled. “Okay Johnny. I told you my story. You do what you gotta do, but be careful. I don’t know how you’re going to pull it off, and even if you do find out who’s behind it, what then?”
“I don’t know Angie, I’ll take it one day at a time,” said Johnny.
“Who knows about this crazy scheme?”
“Nobody.”
“Nobody,” said Johnny. “The only person I plan to tell is Tobias, the editor at the Sun.”
“Toni?”
“Absolutely not, not Toni, her old man, not anybody.”
“Except me,” said Angie.
“Except you,” answered Johnny.
“Okay then,” said Angie, “but as far as I’m concerned, I’m on call. You need anything, money, anything you need just ask. I’ll keep my ear to the ground.”
Johnny got up, and stretched.
“Thanks Angie,” he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek, “You okay? I think there’s more to this story then you’re letting out.”
Angie smiled ruefully.
“Yeah, maybe. Just be careful Johnny.”
Johnny left and hit the stairs to his office.
Angie took a photo from the back counter, it was an old photo of Annable at Jones Beach, she looked about ten years old, smiling at the camera in front of a giant sand castle. She cleaned the frame with her rag, put it back on the counter and turned off the light.
