Darling James

Chapter 5-1

Chapter 5

Malossini came into the kitchen, wearing the purple, orange, and red paisley dressing gown his sister had given him for Christmas. It reached his knees, exposing hairy calves and ankles.

“Angelina, go do the washing.”

She put his coffee cup and breakfast before him and left the room without bothering to remind him she was a cook, not a washer woman.

“This is all Juan Zolo’s fault,” Malossini said around the scrambled eggs he’d shovelled into his mouth. “If he hadn’t brought me that freak, I wouldn’t be in this mess. Well, he’s back in town.”

“That’s right, Boss. Didn’t he call you the other night to get together for dinner and drinks?”

“Yeah.”

“But you told him you were having dinner with Giacomina.”

“She’s my sister. It only made sense.” He finished his coffee and held out the cup. “Get me another cup.”

For a moment I considered ignoring the cup he held out and replacing it with one from the cupboard, but I decided not to push things. I took his cup and refilled it.

“He probably just wanted to show me more pictures of that fat w***e he calls his fiancée.”

“Is she a w***e, Boss? I thought she looked pretty.” I’d got to see those pictures, and as an erstwhile Italian, I was supposed to prefer women with some meat on their bones.

“Pretty useless. What does he have to marry her for?”

“Didn’t he say she was expecting their third kid? Isn’t it time he married her?”

Malossini ground his teeth, but then he began to smile, and I wondered what was going on in that mind of his. “Gino, you said you wanted to be my lieutenant.”

“Yeah!” It had taken years to reach this point.

“What will you do to become my lieutenant?”

“I don’t understand, Boss. Don’t I do whatever you say?”

“So if I tell you to kill someone for me, you will?”

By this time I knew Malossini well. If I’d looked scared, he would have gotten someone else to do it. Hell, he’d probably have done it himself, and then killed me, in spite of the fact I was family. “Who?”

“Zolo. You saw him when he came here, yes? Well, then, I want his f*****g head blown off.”

“Okay.”

“Good boy. Get me the—never mind.” He pushed back his chair, went to the phone on the wall, and dialled. After a few rings, he spoke into the receiver. “Johnny, is that you?…Yeah, it’s Cally. I thought it was time we met for dinner.…Hey, your choice, you name it…Yeah, that works for me. And how about we stop by the Battered Cruiser first? We can have a couple of pints, and then go to dinner…Yeah, that sounds good, amigo. Ciao.” He hung up, then muttered, “Arsehole.”

“Why you so mad at him, Boss?”

“Didn’t you f*****g hear me? This whole mess is his fault. He brought that snake boy here.”

But no one twisted Malossini’s arm, making him buy the poor kid. Of course I kept my mouth shut about that.

He looked me over. “You come down there with me. He’ll expect me to have a bodyguard. Zola don’t have much of a head for alcohol. I’ll fill him full of beer and get him s**t-faced. Then I’ll come up with some excuse to leave and let you deal with him.”