Chapter 4: At The Station

Albert didn’t understand why the police sat him in an interrogation room.  After all, he went to see them.  But the police simply had to go through the motions.  Albert refused to talk from over two hours unless they moved his to a more comfortable surrounding and agreed to make him some tea.  Eventually Officer Macintyre got tired of hearing his own voice bounce off the walls and agreed. 

Albert is not stupid. 

Now sat comfortably in an office across the desk from the Commissioner Albert cooled his tea like an old woman and waited for the Commissioner to speak.

“So now the jawbreaker wants to hand over the king of organized crime to us on a silver platter.”

“Indeed,” Albert’s voice is deep.

“I won’t go into asking why,” the commissioner continued, “Lets just go through where you came in and the laundry list of characters that we’ve had our eye on.  You tell me if I’ve left anything out.  Okay?

Albert nodded and sipped his tea.

“You, Albert, have always looked like you could seriously hurt people.   Now we already know that this is a mild version of the truth.  You’ve made a wealthy, yet deplorable living at hurting people.” 

“Killing people is more accurate.” Macintyre outburst from behind the Commissioner.  Then the Commissioner rolled his eyes and continued.

“You’re the Italian mafia’s leading “eraser.”  Funny job for an Englishman, but your talent forgives your heritage in the eyes of your employer.  Started out a career as an enforcer and due to sheer size never really had to hurt anybody.  Then something happened and you had to get your hands dirty didn’t you?”

Rhetorical question. 

Albert remembers that night though.  The Commissioner was right.  Things in a situation he caught himself in got out of hand fast and Albert found himself working all night in his backyard making it so that it was like the two guys he had just killed never existed.  Cost Albert an axe, a gun, four quarts of gasoline, one lighter, a shovel, six packs of rose bushes and his entire Cadillac Fifth Ave.

Thank God Hal’s Hardware is twenty-four-hour, Albert sat there and the unwanted answer from Macintyre snapped him back to reality.

“Got your hands real dirty didn’t you?”

This time the Commissioner turned around in his chair and looked up at Macintyre.  Giving him that “shut the hell up” look before spinning back towards Albert.

“Your boss found out what a soft-stepping-assassin you’re capable of being and asked you to do job after job after job of making people disappear off the face of the planet.  Melvin Maroni, your employer was kind enough to give you a unique axe to take with you on every job.  Not exactly a smoking gun though.  Need a body to go with the weapon.  Melvin Maroni!  Otherwise known as the “Lord of South Lake Gardens Criminal Underworld” or “Mel” for short.  How am I doing so far?”

“Pretty boring.” Albert coolly replied.  So far Albert’s responses were vague.  They had to be.  Don’t confirm or deny, he thought.  Let the Commissioner tell you what he knows.  Save it for court.

“Anything to add?”

“Yeah!  Could we move this along?”

“Getting nervous Al?”  Macintyre broke the Commissioners last nerve.

“Macintyre!”  The Commissioner turned to him, “Are you practicing lines for a television Cop drama?  Take a walk will ya!  Go call your mommy or something.”

Macintyre unfolded his arms and gave Albert a hateful stare.  He then walked out of the room slamming the door behind him.

“Sorry about that Al.  He’s a lot of an idiot. Couldn’t solve a game of Clue but has a knack for the interrogation room… that is until tonight.”

“No worries.  But, again, I know the story your telling…”

“I know but I have to go over this with you Al.  If there is anybody missing let me know.  We’re going to start with your co-workers, Mel’s other henchman.  Commonly referred to as The United Nations.”

Chapter 3: One Last Snitch With A Gambling Problem

As Albert’s walks towards the hospital he stares blankly forward.  He takes no notice of how the closer he gets to the hospital the more people seem to be running in the opposite direction.  Albert is deep in thought.  He is walking cause he feels sure that his employer put a tracking device, maybe even a bomb, in his car.  And since Albert just spent the better part of an entire day and night at the police station, it is probably best that his employer thinks that Albert simply hasn’t left the house in twenty-four hours.

Albert recalls, it was two days ago that he was sent to a low level snitches house to give him twenty-four hours notice.  The snitch’s name is Tony.  Tony was the only one at his apartment and Albert threw him so hard against the wall that the dry wall dented in the shape of a large egg.

“Mel wants his money Tony,” Albert warned him sternly with his British accent, “You’ve got twenty-four hours Tony.  I’m coming back here tomorrow, in exactly twenty-four hours.  And I am either going to leave with the money you owe back to Mel or your head.  And probably the head of your little whore-friend too.” 

At the last sentence comes a look of shock blended in with the fearful look Tony was giving Albert.

“Oh,” continued Albert, “Didn’t think we knew that you found yourself a little girlfriend did you Tony?  Where is your little cupcake?  Is she home?”

“Sh-sh-she’s sleeping.  Works nights.”  Tony replied breathing terror on to Albert’s knuckles.

“Well congratulations Tony.  That’s precious that is.  This time tomorrow, you’ll have the whole lot or you and the bird reach the afterlife.  And don’t run Tony, or we’ll let Walter work on the Bird while you watch.” 

After that Albert left Tony huddled on the floor with nothing but a hole in the wall and a day left to live.  Felt crumby to Albert to have to threaten Tony with what Walter would do, but that always worked.  Stories reached every corner of the city with what Walter was capable of… what he took pleasure in.  People would always pay or choose death then risk being submitted to Walter’s twisted fantasies.

It’s just two days after the last time Albert saw fear in Tony’s eyes.  Albert can’t help but feel as though Tony passed all his fears onto him, the man who would end his life.  The fear Albert feels as people run past him came after what he had done later that evening.  A visit to the police station made Albert into something his Boss hated.  The thing his Boss hated most about people like Tony.  What he liked to call, “a snitch.”