I Woke Next to the Corpse by Edward Drobinski - HTML preview

Page 120

My head swayed like the water in a disturbed tub and made standing the most difficult task I had attempted since I tried to hit up Anthony Migliaccio for a raise, without the guaranty offered through Toro’s presence. I’d have sat there with the corpse if I didn’t know it to be always best not to be found at the scene; the last one to be placed with the “dearly departed.”

I guess I’d like to say that I felt sorry for Elsa, but I

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didn’t. I didn’t know her at all, but I did know that when you make mob power plays, there are often consequences.

Elsa Bargnesi had made a big mistake. Her uncle, Vito Genovanoria had made one too. But he was too big of a shot to have to pay. When Elsa was a little girl she used to love playing cops and robbers when Uncle Vito visited. She had some notions of him being an important and illegal man and wanted to be important and illegal too. Vito didn’t think that the young girl would carry this dream with her into adulthood, and he encouraged her desire to play the armed robber, and he would always be the shot dead cop. She fancied herself Vito’s favorite niece, while Vito just felt some family obligation, and considered her the most feisty girl and hoping she’d grow out of this tomboy “phase.” He always brought her dolls, while she’d use them as shot organized crime victims. In later years, Vito noticed how Elsa attached his Genovanoria name to hers and asked for “jobs” he wasn’t prone to give to girls. But not wanting to crush her still living dream he’d say; “Not yet, but soon, soon.” He hoped she would settle into vicarious thrills when she married Anasthesia and added his name to the end of her list.

And that may have been the case, if Albert wasn’t a dud. Vito saw trouble brewing, but didn’t want to put the arm on any loyal or innocuous family member, that a personal belief and a matter

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of loyal pride. He hoped some “correction” would pop up, not considering that Elsa’s death was one possible source.

Contradicting that, when Genovanoria had to flee to Italy and wanted to also retain control of his US operations, he knew that he could not fully trust Giuseppe "Joe the Boss" Gottinito, and told Elsa that she was to “share decision making with Gottinito,” though he knew this would be a problem with ambitious Gottiito lousy with full control of any needed muscle.

His reticence to make a clear and consistent family decision left one to be made for him, a lesson I too learned too late.

Now, Vito would have Umberto, Richard, Joyana and Gloriana to watch out for, and I would have to watch out for something as yet unknown. It didn’t seem very likely, but there was a possibility that Elsa’s killing had nothing to do with her, she being there just to set me up. More likely though, this was more thought through, accomplishing a few goals, and the suspects included all the mob people who knew her, even including Vito himself, invoking one of his multi-twisted configurations of

“justice,” as well as all their wannabe followers. More and more it was sinking in that my “on the beam” and cool disinterest had written the moniker “Patsy” on my forehead. Or maybe it was I who just happened to be there, that’s all.

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On my feet, crouched and trying to navigate the head waves, I involuntarily shifted from lower hoof to lower hoof, trying to keep them beneath me, spinning and whirling in an amateurish pirouette en dedans. At least I was able to keep my feet out of the blood on the floor. I gained confidence with each lurching reel.

I made it out the door, and took the elevator down. At least I believe so, as I was thinking that the stairs would be a better place to avoid witnesses. That the odds of me making it down the stairs without rolling were about as good as anyone’s shot at hitting and collecting on the number makes me think that the elevator was used, though I don’t remember the ride.

Outside, the streets were as empty as a Sunday morning in Little Jerusalem. No small feat, I found my parked car. I cranked, but the battery made that click-click sound, which faded to silent death and the gas gauge was on E. When I got back out I saw that two tires were flat. A pay station was right there on the corner.

I Woke Next to the Corpse