Page 36 of Ribbons and Roses
Paulio chuckles. “Who says you’re going to need to get around? You gentlemen don’t seem to understand this is the end of the line for you. It’s over.”
“The only one it’s over for is you, Pauly,” I say. “You’re done for.”
“Call me Pauly one more time, and I’m sending your little snot nose kids your severed head for Christmas.”
“You sure you have the stomach for that, Pauly? I seem to remember both Hector and Giorgio were concerned about you. They didn’t know if you could cut it in this lifestyle.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“They shielded you as long as they could. Some good that did. You’re about to wind up just like them.”
“I said shut the fuck up!” he growls, cocking the hammer on his gun. He stomps toward me as if about to pull the trigger ’til his anger fades and he seems to realize he’s being provoked. “You know what, Mancino? I’ve got to give you credit. You certainly know how to get under people’s skin. I imagine that’s why Ernest Adams here always hated you. That true?”
Ernest glares at him. “Salvatore’s and my past have nothing to do with you. We may have a complicated history, but one thing remains the same—and that’s the Belini crime family was always the easier fish to fry. There’s a reason we pursued you first.”
“You think I care if you insult my cousins? I don’t give a fuck. They’re dead and I’m still here. I’m bringing the Belini name prominence it’s never had. But you want to make things personal, DA Adams? Let’s make things personal! Let’s talk about your son. Bring him here.”
Two of Paulio’s henchmen snatch Marcel from the end of our lineup and toss him onto the ground in front of us.
Paulio flashes a grin, kneeling to meet him at eye level. “Why don’t you share with the class what you’ve been up to, Marcel? Tell ’em all about the grimy shit you’ve been up to. GO ON, TELL ’EM!”
Marcel sits up on his knees in stanch silence. He’s still trying to avoid glancing at any of us or addressing us in any way, but Paulio forces his hand. He grabs Marcel by the cheek and twists his head in our direction.
“Tell ’em right now or your dad gets a bullet.”
The soldier closest to Ernest cocks the hammer on his gun to emphasize his point, aiming directly at Ernest as he does.
“We had a deal,” Marcel grits out stubbornly. “He’s not involved.”
“Yeah, we did have a deal, didn’t we? The deal was… I lend you the cash, you pay up! Guess what didn’t happen?”
“Marcel, what is he talking about?” Ernest asks. “Pay up what? You owe Paulio Belini?”
Paulio cackles like he’s heard the most hilarious joke of his lifetime. “Owe me? He practically sold his soul to me! You know how deep in the hole he is? Your son, District Attorney Ernest Adams, has a severe gambling problem!”
“Your casino,” I say, glaring at Paulio. “You’ve been trying hard to surpass our operation at Nirvana.”
“We’re damn near there, Mancino. Give it another year. All thanks to gambling addicts like Marcel here. He just can’t help himself.” Paulio claps Marcel on the back, releasing another taunting cackle. “He’s gambled away everything he’s got. His savings. His inheritance. His house and cars. Hell, we’ve got him for the designers he owns!”
“Marcel,” Ernest says with a rueful shake of his head. “Son, why didn’t you come to me?”
“Tell ’em,” Paulio says. He prods Marcel with the end of his handgun. “Tell him how you were too prideful to admit you got a problem! So you tried to solve it on your own, didn’t you?”
I’m observing every small detail about the situation. Everything from Paulio’s choice of words to the subtle shifts in Marcel’s stoic expression and body language. I’ve always been a good read on people and this moment is no exception.
The puzzle pieces come together waiting for Marcel to answer.
“You’ve been sabotaging us,” I say. “Paulio sent you here to sabotage us. Things like the power outage, the boat accident, getting lost on your first day up here, it was all by design.”
“Imagine my surprise when I found out the biggest debtor of my casino was related to not only Ernest Adams, but Salvatore Mancino, my biggest nemesis!” Paulio yells in glee. His grin somehow widens on his face, showing off every veneer tooth he’s got. “I was salivating like a fat kid served some double fudgecake. I was damn near drooling. Finally, a way I could get some payback.”
“Did you really get the payback you were looking for, Pauly?” I ask. “What have you actually achieved? You’re still about to go down as a pathetic footnote in the story of Northam’s crime world. Nobody’s going to give a fuck you used some gambling addict to crash somebody’s Christmas vacation.”
“They’ll care when I kill you and become the new kingpin of the city.”
“What’s it like being so delusional, Pauly?”
“Shut the fuck up!” he barks. “You’re not in charge here. I am and this goes how I want it to go! Tell them, Marcel. Tell them all about what you were doing!”