“That’s right, Johnny. I’m out.” I grabbed a chair, pulling it up next to the bed, then motioned to the cocaine on the table. “You still fucking with that shit, I see.”
“Just a little here and there.” Johnny Calzone was a mid-level Mafioso for the Genovese crime family. He specialized in street level gun sales. Rumor had it that a quarter of the guns on New York City’s streets came through his hands at one time or another.
“Where’s my money, Johnny?” I eased his pants closer to me with my foot, just in case.
“What m–money, Vegas?” he stuttered.
I glanced over at Terri Russo, the bleach blonde wife of Genovese capo “No-Nose” Frank Russo. She pulled the sheet up above her breasts. Johnny had a bad cocaine habit, and an even worse habit of fucking his boss’s wife and daughter. He’d been doing both since before I went away. How the hell he’d kept this secret from his boss for all these years was a mystery to me.
I took out my phone and snapped a quick series of pictures of the happy couple. Terri, a feisty, big-titty woman, looked like she wanted to jump up and snatch the phone out of my hands, but her obvious fear of Clyde kept her at bay.
“The money for the key of coke I gave you before I got locked up.” I snapped a couple more pictures, this time pulling back the sheets so their naked bodies were exposed. Terri tried to cover herself again, but when I pointed Clyde at her head, she backed the fuck up.
“Man, Vegas, I paid you for that dope. Don’t you remember?”
“No, I don’t remember shit, but that’s okay.” I lowered Clyde, placing him back in his holster, then took a good look at my phone. “You know, these iPhones really do take great pictures.” I turned the phone so they could see a full-screen shot of their naked bodies, side by side.
“You motherfucker!” Mrs. Russo grabbed the lamp off the nightstand and raised it up like she was about to throw it at me.
“No, Terri!” Johnny screamed, wrestling the lamp out of her hands.
“Smart move, Johnny. Now, about my money . . . I guess I’ll just take the matter up with her husband. He still has the same cell number, right? Maybe I should just text him.”
Terri looked at Johnny with fear in her eyes. “Do something! Give him his money or kick his ass, but do something.”
“Well, he’s not gonna kick my ass,” I said with a laugh.
“I don’t have that kind of money, Terri,” Johnny said, on the verge of whining. She looked totally disgusted with him.
“Hmm, now, that’s a problem, because I need my money. Maybe I should just send these pictures to Frank. I’m sure he’ll pay me to find out where these pictures came from.” I lifted my thumb to start writing a text, and before I could press the first letter, Johnny was begging.
“Come on, Vegas. How long we known each other? You know I’m good for it. Matter of fact, I’m more valuable to you alive than dead. You know that.”
I scratched my head. “Look, I’m not a totally unreasonable guy. Maybe we can make a trade.”
“A trade? A trade sounds good. What kind of trade?” He turned to Terri, looking hopeful. She rolled her eyes and turned away from him.
“An informational trade,” I said. “Rumor has it that you supply the Islamic Black Panther Party with guns.”
“Well, you know you shouldn’t believe everything you hear,” he replied, but his face told the truth. Johnny did way too much coke to be able to hide his thoughts.
“I don’t, but I believe that shit. Now, are you going to tell me what I want to know or what?” I started to type a text.
“I’m not messing with IBPP,” he insisted. “Those dudes are crazy. They’ll kill me.”
“And you think her husband won’t kill you? Have you met Frank Russo? I used to play cards with him in prison. He’s not a very nice guy when he’s upset.”
“Come on, Vegas. Anything but that.” Sweat beads had started forming on his forehead.