"Let's work something out, Corey. I'm not going to say anything. I…I promise."
"Right, Tony believes you." I don’t even know what this is about, but he must have fucked up big time.
“Look, Corrado, please. I…I…”
He’s watching the barrel of my gun like I’m some old-school hypnotist. “I…I…I what Patty, I feel like you’re wasting my time here and I should get rid of you quick.”
“I didn’t say anything, okay? Okay? But listen, listen to me, okay?”
I scratch my gun at the bottom of my chin like I’m listening.
“The Russians are asking questions, you see? They…they offered me money, a lot of money for information on what Tony’s doing.”
“Lies you tell. Maybe I’ll set your pants on fire. You ever wonder what it would feel like? To get your legs burned up like that?”
“Corrado, now listen to me. Just keep listening.” He’s holding out his hands in front of him, like his palms could stop bullets.Newsflash: They do not.
But I still, like I’m ready to listen to all the important bullshit he’s about to tell me.
“What they’re saying, Corey. It’s big. They’re saying it’s bigger than girls and guns he’s running.”
“You going to tell me he’s running drugs? You’re his best customer, you’ve been for years.” I can’t help but laugh. “We both know what businesses Tony has his hands in.
“No, that’s what I’m trying to tell you. It’s big, Corrado, it’s the Russians and the boys from Chicago and Jersey, all of them, they’re talking.”
“Then you better start talking about what they’re talking about. Right. Fucking. Now.” My tone is steady and the gun at his forehead very persuasive.
“This is huge, it affects everyone, it's more than girls and guns, drugs and shit, it's bio-engineered weapons and he's looking to those fucking habibs for the highest bidder.” His words stutter and trip over each other as they spew from his mouth.
“First off, you’re being racist and I fucking despise that. Second, you’re telling fairy tales, Patty. Tony wouldn’t do anything like that.” Maybe he would, I wouldn’t put anything past Tony. He’d sell his own mother to make a few dollars.
I raise my hand and bring the butt of my gun hurling down to his face. The crunch of bone is loud and brutal.
Patty’s head jerks back, his knees buckle, and his hands fly up to cover his head. “I swear to God. I didn’t say anything. Tell him I didn’t say anything. You gotta believe me.”
Another foul smell hits my senses.I think he shit his pants again.
“I didn’t say anything about the bio stuff…or…or the kids. I swear to you.”
My veins turn to ice in my body. Biochemical weapons and the kids? “Start talking, Patty. What are they asking and what exactly do you know?”
He coughs and spits blood. “I don’t know much and I’m not telling you anything.”
“Tell me what Chicago and Jersey were asking then.”
“They heard…they heard some rumor that he was buying some chemical stuff from off the black market, but not…not only chemicals, people too.”
I need proof. In the last few months I've seen glimpses of things dirtier than normal, but not this. Tony is still trying to keep me outta trouble. I knew he was into the girls dancing and making money with their bodies at the club, and the drugs, but things beyond that I don’t know about.
And why wouldn’t he be into deeper shit, right? This isn’t the 1990s anymore. Today’s organized crime is fucking global and everyone will do just about anything to be on top.
“You said kids, Patty. What’s he doing with kids?”
“I...I don't know what the fuck he does with them. I know he's been making a mint on the legal fees. I'm his fucking lawyer, Corey. His lawyer!”
“Why's he asking me to kill you?”
“I...I saw something. I saw something. He had a truckload of kids. The Russians don't want to do business with him anymore. So he...he went to the black market and for a measly five grand he bought a dozen kids. Most were infants, but two, Corey, two were old enough for him to use. You know he's a sick fuck.”
