THE RUNNER SCREENPLAY, BRIAN R. LUNDIN [phonics reader .TXT] 📗

me to invite you and the wife over for dinner she cooking your favorite chittlin,” spaghetti, cornbread and cole slaw maybe we can get in a couple of games of chess, I owe you a good ass whippin’.

REGGIE
Tell your wife we will be there and I will bring the Pepsi, cannot have chittlin’ without Pepsi and you better bring your best game, I’m hot and “remember smaltz rules.

In addition to being a chocoholic since he stopped smoking Commander Hollis was a chess addict he had numerous books on all phases of the game but he knew he could not beat Reggie. While a student at Chicago State University, Reggie was captain of the chess team and they had won the state chess championship the three years he was there, but he enjoyed playing him and it took both of their minds off the grime and the sad human condition they witnessed every day.

Madame Bourneis and Marque sat at the kitchen table having breakfast of scrambled eggs, toast, fried salt pork and grits. A raw steak was also on the table for the Diablesse. Madame Bourneis had rented a two-bedroom apartment at the Quadrangle House a new, expensive high-rise apartment building on South Lake Shore Drive. Their apartment, 24A was located on the north side of the building and all the windows faced Lake Michigan. It was a cold, gray January morning and the east wind shook the windows. Madame Bourneis was reading the Chicago Defender Newspaper article on the bombing and death of the child. The editorial page demanded an immediate and thorough investigation and demanded that the mayor appoint a special prosecutor to head an investigation into the bombing. The editorial also stated that an informed source had revealed that the bombing was an attempt by the Italian mob to take over the lucrative policy racket on the southside. Tears started to form in Madame Bourneis black eyes as she read further about how the distraught mother killed herself after her baby’s funeral. Sadness turned to anger as the beautiful woman and Marque turned into black panthers, paced around the apartment and growled. A little after three that afternoon, Jerome McLemore, Madame Bourneis, Marque and Ted Bunche sat in Jerome’s recreation room.

JEROME
We have got to find a way to avoid a war, with the Italians. I don’t like violence or hurting people I do not know if Pauli’s people are behind the kidnapping or the bombing, or if Vito is acting on his own or being backed by Pauli Gaza. Furthermore, we do not know if they are trying to make or move on our thing, or if my kidnapping was just an attempt to extort money by that ass Vito. I’ve been thinking about arranging a sit down with Vinnie Acosta, he’s running things now that the big boss is dodging the feds, I don’t want to even talk to that asshole, Vito. What you think, Ted?

TED
Could be dangerous boss, if Vinnie was involved in the kidnapping you would be delivering yourself into his hands.

JEROME
What you think Madame Bourneis?

MADAME BOURNEIS
Only if I and Marque can go with you.

JEROME
Ok, set it up but first sees if you can arrange a meeting with the big wheel owners.

TED
What you got in mind boss?

JEROME
With Congressman Dawson too busy to help us, we have got to protect ourselves. We cannot expect any help from those greedy cops or politicians we are paying off, so we have to protect ourselves.

TED
I am on it boss.

FLASHBACK:
Jerome got a cup of coffee and laid his head back on the couch. His mind wandered back many years ago while he attended the University of Chicago Lab School. Despite its location to one of the most exclusive neighborhoods in the city and one of the most prestigious universities in the country, the Woodlawn neighborhood was poverty stricken and crime ridden. The university issued a student alert indicating that there had been numerous robberies of student and staff and cautioned students and staff to be careful. It was in the winter and as usual, the cold wind was whipping off the lake, tossing loose papers and other debris in the air. Jerome left home at three in the afternoon and already the sky had turned a depressing grey. Jerome had an exam the following day and decided to walk to the Woodlawn Public Library located at 56th and Woodlawn. Jerome was walking east on 56th Street Jerome did not see or hear the three young men walking behind him. When passing an alley one of the men grabbed Jerome from behind and pulled into the alley. Two other young men joined them in the alley and they demanded Jerome’s money, one of the men had a knife but the other two were unarmed. Jerome gave the man with the knife the $5.00 he had and hoped they would leave but one of the men struck him in the face. Jerome staggered but did not fall as the other two men came at him. Jerome saw a board on the ground with what looked like a nail sticking out of it, he picked the board up and swung it at the man with the knife, the nail in the board lodged in the man’s right temple and he felled to the ground, screaming and holding his head, the other two men ran away. Someone had seen what was happening and called the police, when the police arrived, Jerome was attempting to stop the bleeding of the robber but he died. For many years, Jerome had bad dreams about the incident and awakened with a scream caught in the back of his throat, his hands full of damp sheets. He felt sorry for the young man and his family that he had killed and he wondered how other people, who had killed, even in self defense, handled the aftermaths, the residue of guilt and the deep down sickness in the soul. Too many young black men were killing each other for nothing other than some macho bullshit.

INT. SERGEANT REGINALD LUNDGRIN OFFICE-LATE AFTERNOON

The sergeant’s office was just down the hall from the Commander’s office. Like the Commander’s his office was spartan and contained an old wooden desk with two hardback chairs and a file cabinets. Reggie walked over to the wired and barred window and looked into the sky. It was only five o’clock and already the sun was setting. Looking east he could see the bail bondsman office across from the station and the “Afterhour” joint owned by local politicians in the basement of the office. Looking north he saw the ever-busy 47th Street. People were walking fast going who knows where. It seemed to him that everyone in Bronzeville was always in a hurry; hurrying to catch a bus, get to the policy station to put in their gig, just hurrying. Reggie had asked Officer MARGE his secretary to call the Gary Fire Department and asked for the chief. In a few minutes, Marge told him through the intercom that Chief Gault was holding.

REGGIE
Chief Gault, my name is Sergeant Reginald Lundgrin of the Chicago Police Department; I’m calling concerning the kidnapping and fire that occurred in your town on 24 December 1960.

CHIEF GAULT
I know about the fire, but I don’t know anything about a kidnapping.

REGGIE
We believe that one of our most prominent citizens was kidnapped and our investigation revealed that he was held at a warehouse in Gary, the warehouse that burned down.


CHIEF GAULT
Well, the only thing I can tell you is that the warehouse was totally demolished and we found three bodies one of the bodies was gutted and another was decapitated.

REGGIE
Do you know who owned the warehouse and could you fax me a copy of the autopsy report and photos?

CHIEF GAULT
The police are investigated the deaths of the men and I believe they said that the property was owned by a Vito Pellegrino I’ll fax the autopsy and police report to you right away.
REGGIE
I would appreciate that chief; can you tell me what happened?


Chief Gault gave Reggie a brief synopsis of the autopsy and police report. An hour later Marge, handed Reggie a copy of the reports. After reading the reports, he went into the Commander’s office and handed him a copy of the reports.

REGGIE
(putting a copy on the Commander’s desk and relating his conversation with Chief Gault.)
There is some interesting reading in this report but I haven’t seen any reports about the kidnapping of McLemore, have you?

COMMANDER HOLLIS
Nope!

BACKSTORY:

VINNIE ACOSTA was born in the stone-filled village of Castellammare del Golfo that faced the Mediterranean Sea. His father Don Vincenzo Acosta was a man of honor and was loved by the members of his Cosco. The Don controlled the olive groves and his olive oils were in all the finest restaurants in Palermo and Rome. He was always fair and always was willing to help anyone in need and imposed instant punishment to those who opposed his will or violated “Omerta”, the Sicilian ancient code of silence. DON ACOSTA was a true Mafia Chief and he observed the old traditions. He did not allow anyone in his Cosco to engage in drugs or prostitution. Rape, robbery and adultery were punishable by death, for both parties. To Don Acosta the laws of Rome had no authority, he was the law and his laws overruled theirs. When Vinnie was sixteen his mother was killed in traffic accident and his father seriously injured but before he died he summoned all the important men from his Cosco to his villa. SILVESTARI BEBBINOLI, a young man of twenty-two, tall with a heavy mustache stood at the Don’s death bed his hat in his hands and his trusty lupara slung over his shoulder. Silvestari Bebbinoli was the son of the Don’s Consigliore and closest friend Ceasare. Ceasare Bebbinoli while drinking alfresco and playing dominoes in one of the luxuriant garden café’s, was kidnapped by DOMICK BASSILINI, a ferocious bandit. The bandit knew nothing of Don Acosta enormous power and influence nor did he think that his little Cosco on one of the remote Sicilian islands had anything to fear from his larger Cosco. When the Don refused to pay the $50,000 ransom Ceasare was killed. The Don’s retaliation was swift. Silvestari led Vinnie Acosta and twenty men onto the island and slaughtered all of the men, women and children. The bandit Domick was brought back to the Don, he lingered for three days in a large vat of hot olive oil with the $50,000 stuffed his mouth. To the Don mercy and forgiveness was the duty of God, not man.

After the Don’s death Silvestari and young Vinnie migrated to Chicago. Don Acosta had many friends in the new country called America and PAULI GAZA the head of Chicago’s Outfit had been indirectly a partner of Vinnie’s father for years and he had threatened all the Italian restaurants in Chicago, Indiana and Wisconsin to use the Don’s olive oils. He welcomed Silvestari and Vinnie like a long lost uncle. Silvestari missed the rocky hills of Castellammare and soon returned after assurance from Pauli that Vinnie would be under his protection.

Pauli recognized that Vinnie was different from many of the young hoods who came to America either to escape the law, rivals or scurry for his favor. Vinnie was smart, cunning and charismatic a true Mafioso Pauli became his “Godfather” and in the Italian cultures this was a sacred and religious relationship and Pauli felt a deep responsibility for Vinnie. Vinnie accompanied