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.”
No comments:
Post a Comment