Johnny Porno

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Johnny Porno Page 30

by Charlie Stella


  “You got him, get him to give up Kelly.”

  “Never happen. He knows enough to sit it out.”

  “And?” Levin said.

  “How close are you to taking Kelly down?”

  “What makes you think I’m in charge?”

  “You have an idea. Tell me.”

  “I don’t have an idea. And I couldn’t tell you if I did.”

  Stebenow motioned at the tape.

  “Yeah, so?” Levin said. “The hell’s that do for me, you’re willing to lose your job and maybe get prosecuted? I’m not.”

  “Look, the Bureau won’t bring her in,” Stebenow said. “I made her stay at a motel last night, but that won’t help her if Vento’s on to her.”

  “If it was Eddie Vento last night you wouldn’t have saved her,” Levin said. “Your witness’d be dead. Vento wouldn’t send amateurs and he wouldn’t risk a knifing.”

  “Your guy is onto my witness, and if he wasn’t working for Eddie Vento last night, all she was was lucky. The other thing is he saw me. He saw me turn and look at him. I spotted the move for what it was and had my weapon out before his guy made it across the street.”

  “You tell the girl about Kelly?”

  “I didn’t have to. She knew he was a cop. You wouldn’t need a degree to figure that out.”

  “Why aren’t your guys moving on this?”

  “Pro’bly the same reason you guys didn’t. Or were you there last night and I’m just retelling this for my health?”

  “Go easy, my friend. I wasn’t there last night. You do anything official with the guy you grabbed?”

  “He’s at a safe house for now.”

  “He’s at a safe house why?”

  “Because we can get away with holding him longer than you. She’s out of danger so long’s he’s there. This way he doesn’t get a call to his attorney. Soon as he does that she’s dead.”

  Levin was incredulous. “What the hell do you hold him on?”

  “He was coming at me with the knife. It’s good enough for now.”

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know, probably not much longer. And like I said, soon as he’s out, he gets word back to Kelly and Vento, they’ll make sure they don’t miss the next time.”

  “He talks, this guy you have, we can all move on Kelly.”

  “Who would give up Vento thirty seconds after we cuffed him,” Stebenow said. “But this kid isn’t gonna talk.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you,” Levin said. “Can’t you convince your people?”

  “The Bureau isn’t going to move because Bridget hasn’t delivered enough to nail Vento yet. We think she’s close. He nearly spilled something about a porn guy they whacked in Canarsie last month. That was supposed to be her hook, that she wants in on the movie business to become a porn star. Vento was supposed to make the connections, but Kelly obviously had something made him act before we could.”

  “How much more do they need, the Bureau?”

  “I raised a few flags, but nobody cares about this kid. She gets whacked they’ll try and nail Vento for that. She’s nobody to the Bureau or the prosecutors.”

  Levin looked Stebenow in the eyes. “I’m gonna ask you something and I want a straight answer.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You banging this broad?”

  Stebenow rolled his eyes. “No,” he said. “No.”

  Levin was still staring. Stebenow didn’t flinch. He pointed to the tape. “The only thing on that worth hearing,” he said. “Vento mentions something about Kelly not trusting druggies. Called it ‘big mouth syndrome’ when they get high.”

  “Druggies in general or her?”

  “What happened last night is a little more than an implication it was her.”

  Levin sipped his coffee. “Bridget Malone’ll get less sympathy from Internal Affairs than she gets from you guys.”

  Stebenow waved the comment off. “How close are you to taking him down?”

  “It was up to me, he’d’ve been doing time already, but it’s not up to me.”

  “I need this guy off the street,” Stebenow said. He toyed with the sugar dispenser while Levin sipped his coffee again. “What would make things move on your end?” he asked.

  “A direct order from the brass upstairs,” Levin said. “Nothing less. I can’t make believe I know what happened yesterday. Think about it. How do I document it on your end?”

  “When are you on him again?”

  “Tomorrow. Why?”

  “Is it okay if I contact you? I’ll leave a message under the name Casper.”

  “The friendly ghost? Nobody’d figure that one out. Are you kidding me?”

  “Call my number when you get the message.”

  “When or if?”

  Stebenow was anxious. “I don’t know yet,” he said, “but I’ll leave that message soon as I do.”

  Levin bit his lower lip. Stebenow got out of there.

  * * * *

  Levin was on his second cigarette before the two-year-old green Catalina drove through the lot and parked at the curb in front of the diner. Levin got in and handed Kaprowski the tape Stebenow had turned over.

  “And this is?” asked Kaprowski, holding the tape up.

  “A gift from a fed wants us to bring Kelly down,” Levin said. “Tape’s his bona fides. Proves he’s not jerking our chain, except his was the voice on the last set of tapes I listened to, so I’m thinking you already know this and maybe you’re jerkin’ my chain.”

  “Excuse me?” Kaprowski said.

  “This guy working with us or not?”

  “That’s a bold fuckin’ question, detective. Answered the wrong way it could bring down an entire operation.”

  Levin took a moment. “You won’t answer my question,” he said, “which I’ll assume you can’t. Am I right about that?”

  “First hand knowledge of a renegade federal agent is dangerous stuff.”

  “And that’s as close to an answer as I’ll get, eh?”

  “As good as it gets,” Kaprowski said. “Now, you buy it, his motivation?”

  “Yeah, I do. I think he’s worried about the girl. Says Kelly already tried to take her out.”

  “He banging her?”

  “I don’t know. I asked, he said no, but who knows.”

  “Fuckin’ Kelly,” Kaprowski said. “I’d like to be the one cuffs him, this finally goes down.”

  “You’ll have to wait in line,” Levin said. “Prick’s mine.”

  Kaprowski offered Levin a Marlboro.

  “No thanks,” Levin said.

  Kaprowski lit his cigarette. “That former head of the painters’ union was clipped a few months back? Three of the five families had claims on him. That’s showing sparks now.”

  “The guy they got outside some apartment building in Whitestone, I remember. Was back in May, so why now?”

  “Sometimes the shit these guys stir takes time to brew. Point is, I don’t want a dirty cop preempting a bigger bust.”

  “Except Kelly will feed you Eddie Vento.”

  “And Vento may or may not clam up. He does, that’ll be the end of that. Today he’s yapping over the phone about a dozen missing movies. The name you gave me last week, Vento’s got people out looking for him, Johnny Porno.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “We don’t know yet. We will soon enough. Ties into Kelly, we’ll do your special agent friend the favor he wants. We get Vento to roll, that’d be the real victory. Vento makes a deal keeps him on the street we can nail a few union delegates his friends have in their pockets. Vento feeds us one or two delegates, they’ll roll on whoever they’re kicking back to. Union boys are used to bullying their wives but are soft it comes to jail time. They think for a minute they’ll go away, they’ll cough up every wiseguy they know.”

  “I told the fed with the tapes we couldn’t do anything.”

  “And you were right. We can’t. Not without having Kelly dead to rights.�
��

  “I didn’t believe him I’d say turn him over to his own. Let them handle it.”

  “That’d only move things in a direction we don’t want,” Kaprowski said. “Besides, you do believe him, right?”

  “I do. I think he wants out. I think he wants to save this woman. Maybe to save himself.”

  “Yeah, well, he can always go to confession,” Kaprowski said. “You watching Kelly today? Maybe you should.”

  “I’m reviewing tapes for Internal Affairs at some point, but I can probably swing it later tonight.”

  “IA is a cover you can’t blow so make sure you do what they ask,” Kaprowski said. “If this agent is so concerned about his witness, he’s the one should keep an overnight vigil.”

  “You’re sounding a lot more conflicted than you did a few days ago.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t a woman this agent was trying to protect I wouldn’t be. Go home and listen to your tapes. You hear anything you think I should know, call.”

  “Great. That’ll leave me time for a beer and a cat nap.”

  “Oh, please,” Kaprowski said. He turned to Levin and rubbed two fingers together. “Know what that is?”

  “Polish mating call?”

  “Don’t push your luck. I only look this cheery from an earlier bowel movement.”

  “Pleasant image. Thanks.”

  “As good as it gets,” Kaprowski said.

  Chapter 39

  Louis took the Belt Parkway west. When they drove past the Cross Bay Boulevard exit, Holly turned in her seat.

  “Isn’t that where you live?” she asked.

  “It’s where I get off to go home, but we’re not going there.”

  “Where we going?”

  “I’m not sure yet. Staten Island maybe. Maybe Jersey.”

  “Why?”

  “It’ll be safer. Just in case.”

  “In case what?”

  It was her first show of fear.

  “Why risk it and find out?” Louis said.

  He was thinking ahead of a potential disaster; if Nancy broke down and ratted him out, for instance. Louis wouldn’t return to his apartment until he knew for sure. He would call work in the morning and remind them about his emergency the other day. He’d ask for the rest of the week off and hope they’d forward his check when he knew where he was going.

  Holly still didn’t know that Nancy had been involved, but Louis couldn’t be sure his ex-wife hadn’t seen his girlfriend. If she had, Nancy might blow a gasket and give him up; a woman scorned was a dangerous animal.

  They were close to the exit for the Verrazano Narrows Bridge when Louis decided to get out of New York.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been to Staten Island,” Holly said.

  “You don’t know?”

  “I always meant to take a ferry ride, but haven’t got around to it yet.”

  “Only cost a nickel to ride that ferry,” Louis said. “Staten Island was like going to the country when I was a kid. My uncle had a bungalow there. It’s starting to get crowded now. Pretty soon it’ll be as bad as Brooklyn.”

  He glanced at the bag of money between her legs, checking on it to make sure it was still there and hadn’t flown out the window or something. It was starting to make him nervous, all that cash.

  “We’re gonna have to lay low for a while,” he said. “With the money, I mean. And you can’t talk about it with anyone.”

  “Of course not,” Holly said. “I would never.”

  They drove in silence through Staten Island to the Goethals Bridge exit on the expressway. Louis was thinking they’d go down to the Jersey shore someplace and stay at a hotel there a few days. Holly would give him shit about taking off from school, but he could always put her on a bus or train back to the city.

  “I guess we’re going to New Jersey,” she said when they were mid-span across the bridge.

  “You ever been to the shore?” Louis said.

  “Nope.”

  “Wildwood? Atlantic City?”

  “Nope.”

  “Maybe we’ll go there. They’re talking about allowing gambling there some day, Atlantic City.”

  “I have class in the morning.”

  “Skip it.”

  “I’m not sure I should.”

  “Your class with the perverted professor?”

  “Yeah. It’s going to be weird until finals next week. I’m going to feel awkward.”

  “I doubt you’ll need to worry about anything in that class,” Louis said. “He’ll probably give you an A whether you show up or not.”

  “I have my other class in the afternoon. That one I shouldn’t skip.”

  “Not even once?”

  Holly shook her head no.

  Louis didn’t see her. “Huh?”

  “I guess,” she said. “But I’ll have to be back Tuesday for acting class.”

  “Consider it done. Meantime, though, I’m gonna cover you with all that cash after we count it.”

  “Cool,” Holly said.

  “Yeah,” Louis said. “It is, isn’t it?”

  * * * *

  John stopped at the pool party to see his son. He gave him a hug and a kiss and was on his way. A few minutes later he spotted the Buick on Merrick Boulevard and parked behind it.

  The engine was still running, which meant it had been hot-wired by whoever had taken it. The gym bag was gone, of course, and the doors were locked. John saw there was a pay phone and used it to call the bar.

  “Fast Eddie’s,” Eugene answered.

  “It’s John. Nick Santorra there?”

  “Hey, John, how’d you make out? You find the kid?”

  The question caught him off guard. The missing money was all he could think about.

  “Yeah,” John said. “He’s okay, thanks. Was on the rides at a bazaar. Santorra there?”

  “A bazaar?” Eugene said. “Fuckin’ kids.”

  “Nick there?”

  “No, not yet.”

  John realized he couldn’t mention the missing money. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll call back.”

  “Right,” Eugene said.

  John hung up and tried to focus. In another hour or two Eddie Vento would start to wonder where the hell he was. Then they would remember the emergency call Nancy had made about his kid. They would call some of the guys John had stopped to collect from earlier and it would start to look bad. No later than tomorrow morning he would be the worst kind of fugitive, one from the mob.

  He had to get the Buick off Merrick Boulevard before it was towed. Then he had to get Nancy’s car back to her. He drove to a gas station a few blocks away and told one of the mechanics about the Buick. He gave the guy a five-dollar bill and drove him where it remained idling at the curb on Merrick Boulevard. The mechanic used a slim-jim to unlock the door.

  John drove the Buick back to the gas station with the mechanic following in Nancy’s Dodge. He used the phone at the station to call Nancy, but nobody answered at the house.

  He asked the mechanic if he could leave the Dodge there until someone could pick it up later. The guy hesitated until John handed him another five-dollar bill. He tried calling Nancy back, but there was still no answer. He wasn’t sure if he should call Melinda, but decided he had to. She answered on the first ring.

  “I’m in a spot,” he told her.

  “John?”

  “Yeah, sorry. It’s me.”

  “You okay?”

  “No, not really. I was robbed. My car was. I just got it back but they took the money I was carrying.”

  “What money?” she said, then must have realized what he was talking about. “Oh, God, John!” she gasped. “Oh, God.”

  * * * *

  She’d watched the first four innings of the Yankee game before she fell asleep on the couch. The phone woke her. It was John and he’d been robbed, he told her. She listened to an abbreviated story of what had happened and grew more nervous by the second. She agreed to meet him in Valley Stream. When she got ther
e John was waiting alongside his car.

  The first thing Melinda noticed when she parked in front of the Buick was the windshield. It had been shattered.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  “I think that was the setup,” John said. “Happened in Northport. I think the guy robbed me did that first, the windshield. Then at the bazaar I got out of the car without thinking. I left the bag with the money and when I came out the car was gone. I found it a few blocks from here. They left it running with the doors locked.”

  Melinda made him retell the story starting with the call from his ex-wife. When he finished telling her the details she was suspicious, but not of John.

  “Your ex-wife called and told you your son was abducted?”

  “She’s a moron,” John said. “She did it to prove a point to her husband. Claims he always defends me. It had to do with him letting me in their house and making me a cup of coffee. She’s nuts. Apparently he figured it out too and left her.”

  “She told you she made a bet and you believe her?”

  “It’s what she said. It’s crazy, but so’s she.”

  “You sure she isn’t involved?”

  “What?”

  “Your ex, John. You sure she isn’t part of it? I mean, it’s pretty crazy what she did, calling you like that, claiming your son was abducted.”

  “She called the bar first. They’re the ones told me.”

  “The bar where the money has to go,” Melinda said. “Doesn’t that make you look even worse now?”

  “Was the only way for her to get in touch with me. I gave her the number in case of an emergency when I first started working weekends.”

  “Something isn’t right,” Melinda said. “I can’t see a mother doing something like that. It’s vicious, John, and it’s calculated.”

  “Nancy doesn’t know Santorra. This was him, I know it.”

  “The guy you had trouble with?”

 

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