Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #1: Books 1-4 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [classic children's novels txt] 📗

the rollers had been oiled and it was quiet. I opened it enough to allow us access and slipped in. Dehan followed, and then the two uniforms. We took up positions and listened.

We were in a large hangar. It was dark, but there was a soft glow coming from the back. As my eyes adjusted to the gloom, I could see that the hangar formed an ‘L’ shape and turned right at the end. That was where the glow came from, as well as a faint murmur of voices. I gestured we should move forward and the two uniforms headed for the wall at the angle of the ‘L’. Dehan was behind me and we made for a pillar that covered the angle, and the source of the light. We were in shadow.

We crouched behind the pillar and, keeping low, I peered around. What I saw was not what I expected to see.

Vincenzo was there, in his Armani suit. He was standing. He had two of his boys with him. One of them I recognized as the Neanderthal who’d been in Sonia’s office. They were standing in front of a chair. It was like a scene from a noir B movie from the fifties. There was a man tied to the chair. He looked badly bruised, but he was alive. It was Bishop Bellini.

I could see the two uniforms looking over at me, waiting for instructions. I gestured ‘stand by’.

Alvaro Vincenzo spoke suddenly, spreading his hands in an exaggerated Italian mannerism, making funny steps with his feet. “I’m confused, Monsignor. You know, maybe you can give me some guidance. Because, you, being a bishop, you got a direct line to God, right?”

Bellini muttered something. Vincenzo ignored him.

“That’s your thing, right? Everybody’s got a thing in this world. Tony here, and Joe, their thing is breaking people’s bones. They are really good at that, and with pliers. You like the pliers, right, Tony? Tony is real good with pliers, because pliers are like his thing.

“My thing?! My thing is making money, and keeping money. Money is my thing, Monsignor. And like Tony and Joe, I am real good at my thing.”

He took a couple of steps closer to the bishop, jutting out his knees as he walked. He leaned forward so his face was close to the bishop’s.

“You know why I am good, Monsignor Roberto Bellini? Because… because I am not stupid! Because I do not allow people to screw me! Because I am fuckin’ ruthless!”

He looked back at his boys. They looked passive, as though they were watching a TV show just because it was on, not because they were interested. Vincenzo’s knees were still going, like he had a nervous condition that affected his legs, first one and then the other. His little ‘I am a tough guy’ dance.

“Your thing is talking to God. So I am wondering…” He laughed an incredulous laugh. “I am wondering how come, how come, if you can talk to God, He allowed you to do something so fuckin’ stupid as stealing money from me!”

I frowned at Dehan. She was frowning back. Had Hagan sold Vincenzo a line?

The Don was talking again.

“What’s that? What’s that? You didn’t steal from me? No, no, no!” He was raising one hand. “Let’s see, Monsignor, if we understand each other here, because you, and that fuckin’ Mick, Father O’Neil, and that other fuckin’ Mick, Mick Harragan…” He turned laughing to his boys. “You see that? They’re so fuckin’ stupid they even call themselves Mick!” The boys laughed and he turned back to Bellini. “And that fuckin’ Arab, Khan, see, you all enjoyed my protection, which you were always very happy to use when it suited you. But you see, that comes at a price. It means, you run a business, you pull a heist, you do a job, and I get my percentage. Anything, anything that goes down, I get my interest, my fuckin’ consideration. And you had the fuckin’ gall! You had the fuckin’ affrontery! You had the fuckin’ impudence to scam Conor Hagan, without my fuckin’ permission, and steal one hundred fuckin’ thousand dollars from me!”

With that, he gave him three powerful back handers that echoed around the warehouse.

I turned to Dehan and nodded. Conor Hagan was a subtle and intelligent man, who should never be underestimated. I looked over at the two officers and signaled again to await my signal.

Then another voice spoke. It was deep and resonant, and familiar.

“Let’s get this over with, Alvaro. I am not comfortable here. I don’t even know why you called me.”

I couldn’t see the speaker. He seemed to be sitting on a crate behind Tony. Vincenzo turned toward him. “I told you. Hagan wants to talk to you. He’s given us a gesture of goodwill; the least we can do is listen to him. He’s a fuckin’ Mick but we are all Catholics. I’d rather cooperate with him than get into a fuckin’ war with him.”

“I’m giving him another five minutes. If he doesn’t show, I am out of here.”

“He’ll show, if he wants his fuckin’ money.”

I knew in that moment that he did not plan to show and he had written off the money. He was going to recover it another way. I gave the uniforms the thumbs up and stepped out from behind the pillar. At the same time, Dehan stepped out from the other side, and I shouted, “Freeze! NYPD! You are surrounded! Drop your weapons!”

Tony reached for his piece. I shot him in the heart and he kind of folded up and lay down. Immediately, there was an answering shot from behind Vincenzo, and one of the two uniformed cops fell. I shouted again, “Freeze!”

Dehan was shouting into her radio to the two cops I’d left at the cars, “Officer down! Officer down! Move in!”

Then, everything happened at