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Authors: S. W. Frank

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He then had an unofficial sit-down with an insider in the Mayor’s office. The residency requirement for NYPD uniformed officers had been amended. Beginning January of next year, the
candidate
selection process g
a
ve priority to applicants who
are
permanent residences in the five boroughs. The surrounding counties of Nassau, Suffolk and Westchester would be wait-listed. The changes were small and progression isn’t immediate in politics
,
a little force
is sometimes required in lieu of a bribe.

The co
ffee shops, galleries and boutiques tucked inside mortar and stone
with polished glass windows displayed the
reflection
of three
men
, walking shoulder to shoulder with determinate strides. They crossed
Second Avenue toward First
and
walk
ed along
Sixtieth Street’s immaculate brownstones.

Lou moved ahead of his boss
, scanned the street and scurried up a flight of stairs to the front door of one of the nice buildings and rang the bell. The door opened and the men entered.
Inside the beautiful foyer, an expensive painting hung above a polished antique table and at their feet was the finest marble. Old money existed here
.
The understated elegance is how the visitor knew.
Th
e brownstone housed a
gentleman’s club and
not the seedy kind. This is where a politically ambitious person without scruples met to seek favor from a Don and then went to a private room for sexual entertainment.

The high heels clicking across the floor belonged to the owner, a statuesque brunette with augmented breasts and an extremely pale complexion which could be
seen
clearly
at
night
. She
addressed her guest
, “Welcome, this way.”

She did not use his name because names were not allowed. The trio
followed the woman to a private room with high back leather seats and a matching couch, except one of the men took up post outside the door.

Lou nodded when the woman gestured to the seats, but he did not sit, instead he checked the rooms for bugs when the woman went out. Satisfied
he spoke, “All clear boss.”

His boss nodded, sat down and crossed his leg. He didn’t wait long for a distinguished man to enter. He’d been frisked outside and buttoned his shirt with an annoyed expression but it changed when he saw the face of a Giacanti
up close
. “Saluti Don Alfonzo. Thank you for seeing me.”

Alfonzo nodded.
Josef
Timpico was the
former
President of
the
Central European Bank and
once held a
governor
’s position at
the Bank of Italy. His credentials were impressive. With a PhD from Harvard and
Master’s in Political Science, it didn’t require psychic abilities to ascertain he’d seek political office someday.

Alfonzo gestured to a seat
.

Mister Timpico, what can I do for you?”

Josef
claimed a chair. “It is what we can do for each other.”

Alfonzo reclined and listened. Long story short, scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours, but this
favor consisted of influencing the families to forego the illegal practice of collecting ‘pizzo’ from business owners. Alfonzo did not reply to this bold request
. He allowed the wishful thinker to explain exactly why he should consider
the proposition.
What the man
suggested would
alienat
e his loyal colleagues. Josef’s campaign platform centered
on
ant
i
-organized crime initiatives. Legitimate businesses and people adverse to the mafia’s dominance were his audience and biggest supporters. So far, he was leading in the polls. Asking for an audience with Alfonzo was a risky move and very bold. But,
Alfonzo listened out of curiosity. He wanted to hear what Josef thought he
could offer an already powerful man. The answer soon came and Alfonzo
weighed the risk versus the reward.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWO

 

 

 

G
iuseppe drummed his finger
s
impatiently on the desk. Before him sat the head of the
Schifani
family
, an
old man with grey hairs and
an
overgrown mustache in need of a
n urgent
trim. The long n
asal
hairs and
the unruly strands
peering from his ears w
as a major
distraction
. Giuseppe
wondered why the man’s wife didn’t take clippers to the
unsightly overgrowth when he sl
ept.
It would be a sign she cared about her spouse
, in which case she didn’t.

Giuseppe tapped
a rhythm in an effort to drown the sorrowful woes filtering in the air from the senior citizen. The badly groomed elder could flood rivers with his excuses. Giuseppe’s problems were far more important. A pregnant runaway possibly carrying his bambino eluded him and
last night h
is chance of a
pleasur
able
sleep with
Alanda was interrupted
. T
oss in
a
delayed departure to Bayamón and he could overflow
the ocean
with
his
own
misery.

The
se
were
the times
he missed
Alberti. H
is uncle
was
far more patient w
ith simpletons.
G
iuseppe
on the other-hand
inherited
his papa’s short temper and blue eyes
from his biological father
and nothing else.
Alfonzo acquired the patience that Giuseppe lacked.

Giuseppe sat listening with
indifference
as
Schifani rattled on
. His silence continued while he observed the nervous younger man
standing behind
Schifani’s
chair. Paolo Nitti
was
Schifani’ s
incompetent son-in-law
who
Giuseppe deemed responsible for the nuisance at his door. He let the old man
talk in his defense
,
but the string of monotone excuses soon became irksome
and Giuseppe lean
ed into the comfort of his seat under the pressing weight of the man’s stupidity.

“A third of our fleet
was
inoperable
and
was
sen
t
for repair
. The
delays in the scheduled pick-ups
we
re unforeseen. Our
sincere
apologi
es
Don Dichenzo.”

“Can you apologize to every person in
Caltanissetta for the stench?”

Schifani
went silent.

“You were given sub-contractual rights to the area
and you sully the Dichenzo name!
Tell me
S
ignore
Schifani
, what would you do to an employee if you were in my shoes?”

“Don Dichenzo,” Paolo interjected, “
w
e have crews out today. We will clean and fumigate the bins for the businesses affected.
We do not seek to offend.”

Giuseppe observed
Schifani’s
nose twitch as if an irritable booger tickled the unruly hairs.
The men actually expected
leniency for the infraction, however, this was his father’s business and the Dichenzo reputation was at stake.
The complaints from shopkeepers were too many to ignore and
some had begun to protest by burning trash in the streets
last night
.
Giuseppe
sent
his
underling
to formally speak with the business owners, waive the
ir
bill
for the month
and reroute
d
the Dichenzo trucks to handle the mess.

Giuseppe addressed Paolo, “Then you wasted fuel and manpower Paolo. The matter was
cleaned
last night. You do not seek to offend, yet you have
offended me
by
speaking
!

Paolo
flushed red. To receive summons by Giuseppe Dichenzo was never a good sign. He feared the family’s loss of income. Without the contract, their company would go out of business. But, Giuseppe
Dichenzo cared little about the plight of others, unlike his father who gave clemency to long-time workers for acts beyond their control.  Paolo nodded, “Perdonarmi.”


Schifani y
ou are to pay retributi
on to the owners in the amount of five thousand euros with a formal apology.”

The angry eighty year old man
leaped out of his chair
.
“Questo è assurdo!”

The senior citizen moved very swiftly for someone his age and Giuseppe was thoroughly impressed. Unfortunately, advanced maturity wasn’t grounds for a waiver and Giuseppe made that very clear.
“What’
s absurd Signore Schifani is you
r response.
I expected
a show of
gratitude.
” Giuseppe gestured to his Capo, “
Have someone e
scort Signore Schifani to the bank
and e
nsure the
payment
is made.
” He glared at Paolo, “And for taking liberties Paolo, I
will
appoint
a more qualified person in
charge of the fl
eet operations. You will accompany
the workers in f
uture trash collections until I am satisfied you are competent to resume a management position. Sometimes
you must
sniff shit to appreciate the smell of roses
!

 

 

 
                                      

                             
****

 

 

Shanda allowed the sun to warm her brown skin. It shimmered
like creamy chocolate as she reclined on the lounge chair staring at the
serene pool
.
Curled in a ball
nearby
,
slept her
new best friend, a pi
t-bull pup she
nicknamed Gee, after
Giuseppe.

Her hand rubbed the firm round contours of her belly
awe
d
at th
e
creation growing stronger and larger
each day
.
Giuseppe’s baby. Th
inking about Giuseppe caused a desolate
sigh. A beautiful beginning was marred by an abrupt and hostile end. There’s no doubt she carried his child. Selange suggest
ed DNA
,
but Shanda hadn’t fucked anybody in weeks before
her romp
with
the Sicilian
.
Initially, they used condoms.
Um-hum,
they fucked through her small stash of
ice and flavored
ones during mating and t
hen, like a fool she didn’t
use spermicide with her diaphragm
. She might have
contracted an
STD;
instead
the result of her dumb-ass decision had been this
unexpected
gift
.

She considered Giuseppe the
best lay she ever had, too bad outside the bedroom he was a callous sonovabitch. If her father’s occupation frightened him away, then he could kiss her ass. The prick put her in a cab and had the audacity to put a wad of money in her hand like she was
a
trick and sa
id
,
“Ciao bella.”

“Ciao bella, what the fuck
does that mean anyway,
hello, good-bye, what?”
She grimaced while thinking about
Giuseppe’s
smug
ness
.
The look on his face when she threw the money out the window and flipped him the bird had her grinning from ear to ear.

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