9
MARCH 25, 2010
THURSDAY, 1:05 p.m.
THURSDAY, 1:05 p.m.
Louie Barbera took the chair that had just
been vacated at the very end of the visiting room at the Rikers
Island visitors center. He’d been there about a half-dozen times
over the years to visit Paulie Cerino, the capo he’d replaced when
Paulie had been sent to prison more than a decade previously. Louie
had visited mostly to ask specific questions about specific people
or events, since it was difficult to take over someone else’s
operation, especially when that person was expected to return. Like
in all businesses, even illegal ones, consistency was
important.
Louie’s visits to Paulie had grown less frequent
over the years, as Louie became more familiar with Queens and its
characters and specific challenges. But now Louie was at a loss. He
had no idea what to do about the situation with Hideki Shimoda, and
especially Vinnie Dominick, Paulie’s old archrival. It was like a
balancing game over a cauldron of molten lava. One slip and
everybody might fall in.
Louie used a tissue and some Purell to wipe off the
telephone handset, which was still warm from the previous user.
Paulie had yet to arrive. Louie’s plan was simple: give Paulie the
details, get Paulie’s response, then get the hell out. Although
Rikers Island was the biggest and busiest penal institution in the
world, the place was also notorious for its run-down condition.
Louie shivered at the thought of staying in the place overnight,
much less for more than a decade.
Glancing to his right, Louie looked at the long
line of other visitors, most of whom appeared to be women talking
to husbands. Many appeared as if they were barely making ends meet,
though some tried to dress up. There were guards on both sides of
the glass with glazed eyes and bored expressions. Louie looked at
his watch. It was after two, and he already wanted to leave. He
promised himself he’d never come back to this place.
At that moment he caught sight of Paulie and
started. The last time he’d seen him, Paulie had looked much the
same as always, plus the scars he’d suffered after someone had
thrown acid in his face a year or so before he had been imprisoned.
He’d always been heavy and unconcerned about his appearance. Now he
was comparatively skinny, and his prison outfit hung on him like an
oversized shirt on a metal hanger.
As Paulie took his seat on the other side of the
glass, Louie had to briefly look away. He’d forgotten about
Paulie’s double corneal transplants, where the clear area of his
eyes contrasted so sharply with the scarred area as to be
startling.
Controlling himself, Louie picked up the telephone
and raised his eyes to Paulie even though it was like looking down
a couple of gun barrels. After a bit of chitchat, Louie said,
“Paulie, you look different, like you lost some weight.”
“I am different,” Paulie agreed wistfully if not
mystically. “I’ve found the Lord.”
Good grief, Louie thought but didn’t say. He
lamented the fact that he’d made the effort to come all the way to
Rikers Island to seek advice about a difficult underworld conundrum
now that Paulie had found God. It made the whole situation so
absurd that Louie thought about leaving, when Paulie suddenly
refocused and said, “I know you probably came out here to get some
advice about some problem, but I want to ask you a question first.
How did that bastard Vinnie Dominick weasel his way out of all
those indictments last year? I thought for sure he was going to end
up in here with me. Nobody’s told me nothing.”
The question took Louie by surprise. Maybe Paulie
wasn’t quite as overwhelmed by his newfound Christianity. Maybe he
could still offer some advice.
“Strange you should ask, because I was the problem
with Vinnie Dominick and most of the others getting off, and it’s
related to how they were caught with their hands in the cookie
jar.”
“I don’t follow,” Paulie admitted with
interest.
“I found out Vinnie had himself a yacht for all
sorts of nasty work-related entertaining. I had my guys place a GPS
on the boat. When I knew Vinnie and company were up to no good, I
gave the password and user name to Lou Soldano so he could nab
them, which he did.”
“Lou!” Paulie exclaimed. “How is the old
bastard?”
“As much of a bastard as always. Why do you
ask?”
“We butted heads for so many years, we became sorta
friends. He still sends my wife and kids a Christmas card every
year. Can you believe it?”
As far as Louie was concerned, he saw Soldano as
the embodiment of the enemy and refused to see him any other way,
Christmas cards or not. “Do you want to hear how Dominick got off
or what?”
“I want to hear,” Paulie admitted.
“Dominick got some great lawyers who jumped on the
role played by the GPS, and with one of New York’s famously liberal
judges, they were able to get thrown out all evidence obtained from
the GPS device, since there was no warrant. Can you believe it? In
one fell swoop the guts of the prosecutor’s cases was unusable. I
tell you, on occasion the whole justice system in this country is
its own worst enemy.”
“Thanks for clueing me in about Vinnie, the lucky
bastard,” Paulie said. “Now it’s your turn. Tell me what you want.
I can’t imagine it’s a sermon.”
“No sermon, thank you,” Louie began. “Just your
advice. After more than a year of smooth sailing businesswise,
we’re in one of those no-win situations that could easily escalate
into a disaster. Now, it’s a bit on the complicated side, so let me
fill you in about our partnership with one of the Yakuza
families.”
To be certain Paulie understood the whole
situation, Louie went back and explained how their relationship had
developed between himself and Hideki Shimoda, the head of the
Aizukotetsu-kai Yakuza. “I set up a number of high-stakes gambling
locations on the Upper East Side that looked and acted like
restaurants to ensnare foolish visiting Japanese businessmen, which
Hideki supplies. We offer unlimited credit and female
companionship, and then Hideki’s associates collect from the
surprised deadbeats back in Japan. After the Yakuza back in Japan
take their cut, they pay us off in either cash or crystal meth, but
generally crystal meth, which we prefer, and they seem to have an
endless supply. The setup has been working perfectly, providing a
large percentage of our current working cash. In fact, it has been
so profitable that the copycat Vinnie Dominick has created his own
setup with another Yakuza organization called the
Yamaguchi-gumi.”
“We never teamed up with nobody,” Paulie commented
with disdain.
“I understand, and maybe I shouldn’t have done it,”
Louie admitted, lowering his voice when a guard drifted near. “But
Dominick is now doing as well as we are, and it’s actually helping
up the demand for crystal meth. The current problem I want to talk
to you about came out of the blue. Hideki Shimoda called me up just
a couple of days ago, asking me to help a couple of his guys shake
down some Japanese researcher type and steal the man’s laboratory
books. I didn’t necessarily like the idea about getting involved in
someone else’s business, but Hideki was insistent, and I went along
because, as I said, it was supposed to be only a shakedown. But
that wasn’t what it turned out to be.” At that point, Louie related
what had happened the previous night, and the potential bomb that
had been created.
“You’re surprised that these Yakuza thugs are prone
to violence?” Paulie asked with surprise of his own.
“I was surprised about the extent. There’d been no
problem until last night. They seemed respectful of the way we were
operating, keeping killings to a minimum. I mean, Vinnie Dominick
and I are hardly friends, but we’ve just learned over the years
that real violence is bad for business. Maybe it’s more that I
learned and Vinnie has been willing to follow suit. I’ve actually
made it a personal crusade of sorts.”
“Okay, so now what?”
“Hideki calls me up this morning, supposedly to
thank me for sending the help, and he doesn’t admit anything had
gone wrong. I had to pull it out of him. And he didn’t even mention
the New Jersey part. Then he demands we help him again tonight to
get the lab books he didn’t get last night, with the same
trigger-happy soldiers. The plan is to break into an office
building on Fifth Avenue. When he senses my obvious hesitation
about agreeing to such a harebrained idea, he threatens me with
breaking up our comfy business relationship. He says that Dominick
would surely help him with the robbery if he were offered to get
the Aizukotetsu-kai business as well as the Yamaguchi-gumi’s. You
got the picture? The man is extorting me.”
“I’m getting the picture, but I don’t understand
why you were willing to hook up with these Yakuza guys in the first
place.”
“They just didn’t seem to be overly violent, at
least not until last night. But let’s get beyond that issue and
focus on the current one. After all, this is your territory. As
soon as you’re out you’ll be back in the driver’s seat. When does
it look like that might happen?”
“It’s up to the parole board. I mean, I’ve been
eligible for longer than I like to think about. I’ve been turned
down so many times I’m starting to think Vinnie is involved, but
that’s another story. Back to your problem. My first instinct is to
get rid of this Hideki. You can’t let anyone get away with
extorting you. Not in this business. Cut off the head and the beast
won’t bite.”
“Can’t do!” Louie said definitely and without
hesitation. “He’s too high-profile. The Aizukotetsu-kai would be
over here and a real war would break out. Besides, you can’t bite
the hand that feeds you. As I mentioned, a good part of our current
cash flow would halt.”
“Then get rid of the two enforcers who did the
dirty work,” Paulie said. “You don’t need guys like that around who
take it on their own to shoot whoever the hell they please. You
have to send a message that that kind of behavior is not
okay.”
“I’m listening,” Louie said, “but whacking them is
going to involve abandoning my antiviolence campaign. I’ve been
really strict about it. I’ve even talked down the little stuff,
like avoiding knocking around gambling deadbeats unless absolutely
necessary. Dominick and I even had a meeting about it, and we
agreed. So there’s been no violence to speak of, and the cops have
left us alone and business has been as good as can be expected,
even in this down economy.”
“You can’t have it both ways,” Paulie snapped. “You
can encourage everyone to keep the violence down, that’s all well
and good. But this is different. This is serious, from the leader
of a foreign gang. You have to react, and you have to react now. If
you don’t do something dramatic, word is going to get around that
you’ve lost your touch. I mean, it’s nice to have a nonviolent
stance, because it can be useful with the police, but it can be
counterproductive with all the competition. If you don’t want to
cut off the head, then you have to inflict some serious damage to
the vital organs. You have to get rid of Hideki’s two lead goons.
Listen to me!” Paulie suddenly motioned with his eyes for Louie to
look to his right. One of the bored guards was sauntering in their
direction on Louie’s side of the glass. As he approached, Louie and
Paulie switched their conversation to small talk about how much
better it was in the old days with Louie in Bayonne, New Jersey,
and Paulie there in Queens.
Unfortunately, the guard went behind Louie to the
window and stared out at the bay for a time, forcing Louie and
Paulie to think up things to talk about. They finally hit on the
Yankees and what the 2010 season would be like. When the guard
finally strolled away, Louie said, “We’ve got to speed this up. The
clock is ticking on how long I’m allowed to be here.”
“You have to do something dramatic or you are going
to lose control,” Paulie said. “What I’d do is call Hideki, pretend
you’ve changed your mind and play up your willingness to help; tell
him you want to have a meeting because the more you know about
what’s going on, the better you can help. And do it face-to-face.
You learn a lot more at a meeting than with a phone call. Of
course, have the meeting in your office. Come up with some plan
about how you’re going to break into the office where the lab books
are to give yourself something real to talk about to make him
believe you’re definitely going to do something.”
Louie nodded, knowing he could come up with
something believable. Certainly the idea of finding out more about
the lab books and Satoshi would be helpful.
“I mean, the plan doesn’t have to be elaborate,
since you’re never going to do it—something like creating a major
distraction, such as a fire or an explosion nearby so you can slip
in and out of the office building with everyone concentrating on
the distraction.”
Louie was impressed. Apparently, Paulie hadn’t lost
any of his edge, especially coming up with a plan so quickly. Louie
also started to believe the born-again Christianity might have more
to do with the parole board than true religiosity.
“Make plans to meet up with the enforcers someplace
in the city where there’s always a crowd. Once you have them in the
car, you’re golden. Make sure to get rid of the bodies. Then after
an hour or so, call Hideki back and be pissed off, asking where the
fuck are his guys, as you’ve been waiting all this time, blah,
blah, blah.”
“You think he’d buy it and not smell a rat? I don’t
want to make this situation worse.”
“I think there’s a good chance he’ll buy it
outright,” Paulie continued. “But here’s the tricky part that will
take some thought on your end. Drop some offhand comment about your
guys hearing from his guys last night that they were somehow
concerned about the rival gang. What was the name of the group
hooked up with Vinnie?”
“Yamaguchi-gumi.”
“That’s it. I mean, don’t overdo it. Just some
trifle reference his guys were concerned about a couple of the
Yamaguchi-gumi enforcers, or whatever they call their hit men. The
Yakuza are paranoid about each other and do more harm to each other
than the police. Am I making sense?”
“A lot of sense,” Louie said.
“Are you going to take my advice?”
“I’ll think about it,” Louie answered.
“But it’s key that you don’t add to your violence
problem by anybody finding a couple of bodies with a single bullet
in their brains.”
“Understood,” Louie agreed.
“Now, about the current violence problem,” Paulie
continued, lowering his voice. “I haven’t heard anything about a
guy getting whacked on any subway platform, nor any mass murder in
New Jersey. How come? What’s the story? Here inside, we learn about
such things sometimes even before they happen.”
“When I got upset with Hideki telling me the truth
instead of the wacky story of a heart attack, he tried to calm me
down by insisting that the death was done in a way that would be
considered natural and would be undetectable to the police. Also,
his guys took all the man’s IDs, so it’s going to be an
unidentified corpse until someone comes out of the blue to identify
him.”
“What about the mass murder?”
“The only explanation for now is that no one has
stumbled on the scene. If the whole family was home, except for
Satoshi, who surely is not going home, it might be a while before
it’s discovered. My guys say it’s not the best part of town, mostly
empty buildings, trash, and graffiti. They didn’t even see a single
person, and it was evening, when you most often see people coming
home from work.”
“That’s in our favor. Under such conditions it
could be months, and it would never be associated with the hit on
the subway platform, which is important, in my mind. As far as
going over there and cleaning it out ourselves, I say definitely
no. We shouldn’t go near the place.”
“I agree with that totally,” Louie said.
“That leaves the victim who was whacked. Did Hideki
tell you how he was killed?”
“No. All he said was that no one is going to figure
it out, so it will be considered a natural death.”
“That means it’s important that it remains a
natural death.”
“I suppose you’re right. But there’s nothing we can
do about that.”
“That’s not necessarily true,” Paulie said. “I know
a kid that works at the medical examiner’s office named Vinnie
Amendola. Well, he’s no kid anymore. Hell, he’s got to be in his
forties. Nice kid. I literally saved his father way back when, so
the kid owes me big-time. Of course, we used him once a number of
years ago to sneak a body out of the morgue. He got into a bit of
trouble over it, but I smoothed it over, since he’s lived all his
life out here in Queens. He could help you on this case.”
“By doing what?” Louie questioned.
“He could tell you the status on the case, like if
the cause of death has been signed out as natural. Vinnie loves his
job, God knows why. He knows everything that goes on in the medical
examiner’s office.”
Louie took a moment to look back at the visitors’
desk. He was afraid they would soon be asking him to leave, yet he
wanted to hear the rest of Paulie’s suggestions. As Louie had
envisioned, Paulie had some good ideas. When no one waved at him
from the desk, Louie turned his attention back to Paulie.
“You waiting for someone?” Paulie asked.
“No. I’m afraid they’re going to kick me out. So
you think it’s worth it to take the time to go to the
morgue?”
“I definitely think you should go for one very
important piece of information.”
“Are you going to tell me or what?” Louie
questioned. It seemed Paulie was stalling on purpose with time
running out.
“The most important thing I want you to ask Vinnie
Amendola is the name of the medical examiner on the case.”
Louie knotted his brow in surprise. “Are you
serious? What the hell for? Why does it matter?”
“If it’s Laurie Montgomery, we are in
trouble.”
“Who the hell is Laurie Montgomery?”
“She’s one of the MEs,” Paulie said. “If I had to
pick the single person most responsible for my being here in
prison, it would be Laurie Montgomery. She’s the smartest one at
the morgue, and certainly the most dogged. She figured out stuff
from the bodies I was responsible for sending in there in ways that
still mystify me. We even tried to whack her and couldn’t. We even
had her nailed in a coffin at one time—you know, one of those
simple pine boxes they use for the unidentified dead. She’s like a
cat with nine lives. Even Vinnie Dominick tried to kill her without
luck.”
“You must hate her guts.”
“No, I’ve forgiven her, since she’s also
responsible for me finding God.”
Louie didn’t respond for a moment, instead staring
into Paulie’s scarred face again, trying to figure out if Paulie
was seriously religious or seriously into character for the parole
board’s benefit. Paulie remained placid, a smile at the corners of
his distorted lips.
“My point is,” Paulie continued, “if you find
Laurie Montgomery involved with your subway platform victim, you
must, and I emphasize must, do something about it. Somehow
she will figure out it was homicide. I’m telling you. From there
she will figure out that it was an organized-crime event involving
the Yakuza and you guys. You have to get her off the case if she’s
on it.”
“What would I do, have her killed?”
“No. Absolutely not. I tried. Dominick tried. And
merely by trying you will unleash from the police just what you are
trying to avoid: probably a decade of harassment, because she’s
connected in high places in the police department. She used to date
Lou Soldano. And when they stopped dating, the relationship didn’t
change. In fact, it got better.”
A piercing whistle got Louie’s attention. Checking
the desk, he saw the guard waving at him. Time was up. Louie looked
back at Paulie. “If she’s on the case, how do I get her off?”
“Can’t help you there. You gotta figure that one
out yourself. Ask Vinnie Amendola. He might have a
suggestion.”
Another whistle penetrated the general background
hum of voices filling the room.
“See ya,” Louie said, standing up.
“You know where to find me,” Paulie said as they
hung up their phones in unison.