Dark City (Repairman Jack - Early Years 02) (36 page)

BOOK: Dark City (Repairman Jack - Early Years 02)
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“Just Vincent.”

Wait—no daughter?

“Only one child?”

“Just a-my little Vincenzo. From my first husband.”

Oh, yeah. Melinda had said she was “twice widowed.”

“You … you never mentioned him.”

“He’s, um, a very private a-person. That’s why I’m a-think I should check with him about mentioning my name. He might a-not—”

Suddenly the front passenger door flew open and a man slid into the seat. His dark gray porkpie hat didn’t go with his half-zipped Yankees Windbreaker.

Neil stiffened in shock. “What the f—!”

“Uh-uh-uh!” the guy said, wagging his finger. “We got a lady present. Hey, Mrs. D.” He waved but his hard brown eyes never left Neil. “How you doing?”

“Aldo? What a-you doing here?”

“Vinny’s on his way. He asked me to stop by and see what was goin’ down. Shouldn’t be long till he gets here.”

This guy was trying hard to be scary, but Neil wasn’t buying. He leaned forward and got in his face.

“You can’t come in here like this. We’re on official business and—”

“Yeah? I hope for your sake that’s true.”

Before Neil could stop him, the guy—Aldo—reached over and yanked the key from the ignition.

“Hey! You can’t do that!”

“I believe I just did.”

Neil picked up his mobile phone. “I’m calling the police!”

“You do that.”

He sat and stared at Neil.

The old lady reached from the back and patted the guy’s shoulder, saying, “Aldo, it’s okay. We just a-caught a thief at the bank.”

He turned toward her. “Really, Mrs. D? I—”

“Why do you call her ‘Mrs. D’? This is Mrs. Filardo.”

He smiled at the old bat. “I known her since me and Vinny was kids, back when she was Mama Donato. She’ll always be Mrs. D to me. Ain’t that right?”

The old lady patted his arm again and smiled. “He’s a-like a second son, Aldo is.”

Shit!

“But let me get this straight,” Aldo said. “You caught a crook at the bank? From here? From a parked car?”

“It’s a-complicated.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is.” He turned back to Neil and pointed to the phone in Neil’s hand. “It’s nine-one-one, pal. What’re you waiting for?”

Neil felt sweat flood his armpits. This guy had mob written all over him.

I should call his bluff and dial the cops. He’ll probably take off running.

But then how to explain what he was doing parked here with this old lady? His fake bank inspector ID wouldn’t pass with a cop—not for a second.

This looked like a no-win situation. Best to cut his losses and run.

“I’ve had enough of this,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

Aldo grabbed his arm with one hand and pulled open his Windbreaker with the other, just enough to reveal the butt end of a pistol in a shoulder holster within.

“We wait for Vinny. He’s gonna—”

*   *   *

“—wanna talk to you.”

Julio was staring at Jack. “That guy that got in the car—name’s Aldo or somethin’. I see him when he show up every once in a while to collect on Harry’s vigorish. He’s a Gambino. What they gotta do with this?”

Jack hadn’t expected Aldo. But this was okay. He was holding the fort until Vinny arrived.

“You know the big guy who usually does the collections?”

“Vinny? The one with the donuts?”

“Right. Well, the old lady in that car with Zalesky is his mother.”

Julio’s eyes widened. “No shiiiiit! Is he crazy?”

“No, just clueless.”

“How’d he get hooked up with her?”

“A little bird cheeped in his ear that she was a widow and loaded.”

“You?”

Jack nodded.

“But her name’s Filardo.”

“She remarried after Mister Donato died. Mister Filardo died too.”

“And that call you made—that was to…”

“Vinny.”

“Jack, this is…” He grinned as he shook his head. “
Increíble!
How you get all this to work?”

“Guys like Zalesky make it easy. They think they’re such hotshot, heavy players they can’t imagine anyone playing them. I did some research, found a little old lady nobody should mess with, then dropped the bait in front of Zalesky. He jumped on it. Whatever happens after that is all on him.”

“Hijo de puta—can’t think of nothin’ too bad.”

“The real iffy part was Vinny’s mama. If she told Zalesky she wasn’t interested and to buzz off, the whole plan would’ve died aborning. But Zalesky is smooth. Once he got her on board, the only other variable was Vinny. If I couldn’t reach him or he couldn’t get here in time, Zalesky would get away with it—or at least think he had.”

“What you mean?”

“You don’t think a guy like Vinny Donuts is gonna let his mama get ripped off, do you? He’d turn the city upside down looking for Zalesky. And if somehow he couldn’t find him, he’d get an anonymous call with a name and an address.”

“You one sneaky bastard, Jack.”

“Why, thank you. That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“No, really, meng. I love it. I—”

A black Crown Vic screeched to a halt behind Zalesky’s Dodge and the man himself jumped out.

Jack said, “Now things should get really interesting.”

*   *   *

Aldo said, “Yo, Vinny!”

Neil turned in time to see his door swing open. He found himself looking up at a huge guy with a very angry face. Neil’s bladder clenched. Vinny. He had Made Man written all over him.

He grabbed Neil’s tie and shirtfront and yanked him half out of the car.

“Who the f—?” He ducked to look at the rear seat. “Hey, Ma. You okay?”

“I’m a-fine, but—”

“Great.” Back to Neil. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing with my mother?”

“Vincent, it’s all right,” the lady said. “He’s a-from the government.”

“Yeah?” Vinny looked anything but convinced. “Let’s see some ID.”

Neil fumbled his ID folder from the breast pocket of his coat and handed it over.

“B-b-banking commission,” he said, cursing his stutter and trembling hands. “Fraud investigation.”

Vinny glanced at it, then tossed it over Neil’s shoulder onto the front seat.

“What’s this about fifty G’s of my mother’s dough?”

“Vincenzo! Let him a-go! You gonna get in trouble. We use it to catch a thief!”

He yanked Neil closer, till they were nose to nose. “Where is it?”

This was a nightmare. Neil was speechless, but not the old windbag.

“It’s a-fine. It’s in a-the trunk.”

“Let’s go see.”

“I got the keys,” Aldo said behind him.

Oh, no! Oh, no-no-no-no-no!

Vinny pulled him the rest of the way out of the car and hauled him around to the trunk. Aldo met them there and unlocked it. The lid sprang up to reveal the two cases.

Oh, Christ! I’m dead! I’m dead! I’m dead!

“See?” he said in a quavering voice. “Just a couple of valises.”

“‘Valises,’ eh?” Vinny said in a menacing tone. “Aldo, ask my mother how many ‘valises’ she filled with cash.”

Neil felt his knees turning to rubber. He needed a way out.

Aldo returned. “She says only one.”

Neil looked up to find Vinny staring hard at him. “Only one, huh?” He shook Neil like a doll. “Open ’em.
Both
of ’em.”

Neil’s hands were trembling so bad he could barely get the little keys out of his pocket. Vinny stripped the tape from the locks, then stepped back to let Neil get to the cases. Instead, Neil spun and made a break for it. He got about two feet away before a hand grabbed the back of his collar and nearly yanked him off the ground.

“No way, asshole!” Vinny said. He turned him toward Aldo. “Convince him that was a bad idea.”

Aldo smiled, and before Neil could react, he’d planted two pile-driver punches in his belly. Neil doubled over, struggling to breathe, choking back vomit. He felt the briefcase keys snatched from his fingers. Through tears of pain he saw Aldo unlocking them, flipping the lids …

“Well, well,” Aldo said. “Looky here. Fifty G’s apiece.” He fanned through a stack from the old lady’s case. “Looks like the real deal.”

“Guy on the phone said only fifty,” Vinny said.

Guy on the phone?
What guy?

Aldo picked up a stack from Neil’s case, started to fan, but stopped halfway through. “Uh-oh.”

He showed Vinny the singles between the top and bottom C-notes.

Neil felt something warm and wet running down his left leg.

Aldo guffawed. “Aw, man! Vinny, he’s pissin’ himself!”

“L-look, guys. I can explain.”

“No need,” Vinny said in a low voice. “It’s all clear as can be. Clear as crystal.”

“I’m just helping out her grandson.”

Vinny’s face twisted. “Grandson? She ain’t got no grandkids, son or otherwise.”

No-no. That couldn’t be.

“Sure! Name’s Lonnie. Yeah, Lonnie. He wanted money to invest in some new high-tech—”

“That bullshit ain’t gonna work!” Vinny said. “Ain’t you listening? She ain’t got no grandson named Lonnie or anything else.”

Aldo was shaking his head, a disgusted look on his face. “Rippin’ off a nice old lady like that? You lousy son of a bitch.”

“I didn’t know! I swear I didn’t know!”

“Didn’t know what? Didn’t know she was an old lady? Or didn’t know she had someone who’d find out?” Vinny shook his head. “Shit! If that guy hadn’t called me, you’da got away with it!”

That
guy
again. Who was he talking about?

Before he could ask, Aldo delivered another hard shot to his gut.

As Neil doubled over in agony again, Vinny said, “Close up the cases and take ’em out.”

As soon as Aldo had set them on the pavement, Vinny shoved Neil into the trunk.

“No!” he shouted. “No, you can’t do this! You can’t! Help! Somebody hel—!”

He heard a loud
crunch!
and an explosion of pain as Aldo’s fist smashed into his nose. His vision blurred, lights danced, then the trunk slammed shut.

He kicked and screamed in the dark but knew it was no use.

*   *   *

Julio was bouncing around in his seat like a little kid.

“They got him! They got the hijo de puta! What you think they do to him?”

“Don’t know,” Jack said. “But it won’t be nice.”

Jack’s buzz at seeing all the pieces he’d arranged fall into place was tempered by the realization that most likely no one would ever see Neil Zalesky again. Vinny Donuts probably subscribed to a philosophy similar to the Mikulskis’:
Don’t leave loose ends.
Then add to that,
Don’t let anyone walk away from messing with your family, especially your mother.

Zalesky played dirty tricks on his ex-wife—dirty enough to turn Julio homicidal. He made his living ripping off little old ladies, sucking off as much as he could, then disappearing. Pretty heinous. But did he deserve what Jack was pretty sure was coming?

He sighed. Not up to him. This being New York City, the good ’ol Big Apple, sooner or later Zalesky was destined to pick on the wrong little old lady. Jack had simply arranged for it to happen sooner.

*   *   *

Vinny couldn’t decide who he was more pissed at—Mom or this two-bit asshole grifter.

He opened the Dodge’s rear passenger door and helped his mother out.

“What’s a-that noise?”

The grifter’s screams were muffled but his kicks against the trunk top made a real racket. Good thing she didn’t hear too good.

“Something you wouldn’t be hearing if you’d’a told me about this.”

“How could I a-tell you? It was a-secret.”

He turned to Aldo. “Do me a favor: Drive this piece of junk back to Canarsie?”

“Sure,” Aldo said. “We gonna have some fun?”

“Yeah.”

Fun for you, at least.

Vinny was too pissed at the moment to think of fun.

“I’ll drop her off and meet you there.”

As Aldo got behind the wheel of the Dodge, Vinny led Mom to his car and opened the rear door.

“I’m taking you home.”

“But where’s a-the bank man?”

“He’s done for the day.”

He slammed the door, carried the briefcases around to the other side, and put them on the backseat next to her.

“How come you got a-two?”

“I’ll explain in a minute.”

He moved his Vic far enough ahead so Aldo could back out the Dodge, then turned to face his mother.

“Okay, Mom. I want you to open that first briefcase, the one nearest you.”

He watched her pop the locks and lift the lid.

“’At’s a-my money.”

“Yeah? Check one of those stacks.”

She did, and her jaw dropped. “Ones! Where’s a-my money?”

“In the other case. The one you got there is the one he was going to give you back.” He shook his head. Was she getting senile? “How could you fall for something like this?”

She got all teary as she rattled on how they’d done the same thing last week with twenty grand and he’d returned all the money to her, then convinced her to go for bigger stakes to catch the thief.

The oldest trick in the grifter book: Let the marks win—or at least not lose—in an early round to get them off guard, then hammer them. It worked at all levels, from three-card monte all the way up to the Big Store.

“It’s okay, Mom. But just call me whenever someone you don’t know wants money.”

“What’s a-going to happen to him?”

She wouldn’t want to know, so …

“Aldo’s gonna turn him in to the cops.”

“Will I have to—?”

“We’ll take care of everything. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again.”

That, at least, she could take to the bank.

*   *   *

“Ain’t we gonna follow?” Julio said as Aldo drove off in Zalesky’s Dodge.

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think we should get any closer to Vinny and Aldo than we already have.”

“Yeah.” Julio leaned back. “You probably right.”

He watched Julio. “Satisfied?”

He grinned. “
Muy satisfecho
. He won’t be bothering Rosa no more.”

And that meant that Julio would stay out of jail—no more itching to hunt down Zalesky and flatten his skull with a baseball bat. That had been Jack’s whole reason for doing this.

Well, that and the pure satisfaction of working behind the scenes and playing the players. More than mere satisfaction—it left him totally buzzed.

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