Dirty Words - [5]

Johnnie nodded, mutely.

"So Tino goes out and he buys himself one of these all-region DVD players and orders the movies from Chinatown. Thing is, these machines are kinda rare nowadays. Only the hardcore guys own them and pay top dollar. So, a stolen one is easy to track."

"Uh-huh."

I pulled a cigarette out, placed it between my lips, feeling more than a little like Columbo. The guard "ahem"-med at me.

"Not lighting it," I said, a little pissed that my Columbo flow was now fucked up. "Where was I?"

"DVD player?"

"Ah, right. So, I hit the pawn shops. Sure enough, right on Sixth Avenue, less than a half mile from Tino's apartment, I find myself a pawn shop. Beginner's luck, I guess. Know what they had?"

Johnnie blinked at me, thinking it over and taking longer than he should. "Tino's DVD player?"

"Atta boy! You are following. Now, the pawn shop guy, he would never admit to buying stolen goods, much less give me a name or tell me that he buys the goods from the local junkies." I chewed the filter and smiled as I blew the pretend smoke slowly out my nostrils. "But it's amazing what they will tell you when you break out the cigar cutter and a can of Sterno."

Johnnie nodded silently as the color dropped out of his face between heartbeats.

I let him stew for a few seconds. "I found Chauncy, Johnnie."

"I didn't…"

"A couple of twenties passed into a junkie's hand and they'll tell you that they like to hump pumpkins, much less point a finger atanother junkie." I stubbed out the cigarette I never lit in the metal ashtray still bolted to the table.

"I didn't rob Tino, T.C. I didn't kill Nina," Johnnie's voice was starting to squeak with panic.

"No. No you didn't. You just paid Chauncey to break in and rob the place to get all your stuff back. Nina walked in and he killed her."

"I never meant…"

"You cut a path. Johnnie. Everywhere you go. Everything you touch leaves behind the stink of you. And I'm not just talking about that Fulton Fish Market at high noon aroma that comes out your pores, either."

Johnnie hung his head in…what? I don't know. Who knows if a person like him can feel shame. Or guilt. If I had the money to bet, I'd say that he hung his head in simple defeat at being found out. "What are you going to do?"

"Oh, there's a lot I could do. I could drop Chauncey off at the police station and let him confess, which at worst gets you an accessory charge."

Johnnie raised his head, hopeful.

"But that's not gonna happen since poor Chauncy is being sent to a few different states right now. All of them at the same time, if you catch my drift." I winked at him.

Johnnie went another shade whiter and his lower lip started to tremble. "But I didn't…"

"Yes you did, Johnnie. Yes you fucking did." I stabbed my finger at him. "Another option is Josh." I pulled a piece of paper out of my pocket. "The poor guy's conscience worked him over and at the risk of his horrible wife's fury, he wrote out a statement saying he was playing poker with you all Saturday night. Look." I held the paper up to the glass. "Even had it notarized." Johnnie's face pressed against the barrier, a sly smile pulling the corner of his mouth as he read Josh's words. The smile winked out when I tore the paper in two.

"No! NO!" he screamed, fat fingers trying to reach through the holes to get the shreds.

"Oops."

Deflated, Johnnie's face went slack, his eyes deadened at the realization that he wasn't going any-goddamn-where.

I turned to go and stopped, living out one last fine point of my Columbo fantasy. "One last thing," I said and turned back. "You remember Crazy Dennis? Used to run errands for the Westies way back?"

Johnnie tried to swallow and looked like he might vomit instead. "I think so. He got that teardrop tattoo on the corner of his eye?"

"Yup. That's him. He was supposedly the only guy crazy enough to actually give somebody a Columbian Necktie after he'd kill him. And if you were considered crazy in Hell's Kitchen mob back in those days… Anyway, funny thing. He got pulled over last week in Queens and the cops found an unregistered gun. He's getting two years in here on weapons possession. Strange when you think that's what they catch him for after all of the sick shit that Crazy Dennis pulled. Funny too, when you remember that his wife was Nina's sister." I savored the fear that fluttered in Johnnie's eyes. "Small world, ain't it, Johnnie?"

If Johnnie went any paler, he'd have gone invisible. He shook like an epileptic. His mouth moved, but no words came out. I turned to go, for real this time. I lifted my hand in farewell. "So long, Johnnie. Won't be seeing you."

The Biggest Dick In Brooklyn

"Pull yer pants down."

Over the course of the last thirty years, Henry DeMarco had given a lot of orders-a lot of strange and tough orders. For thirty years, nobody ever questioned their boss' demands until he walked into his warehouse and said those four bewildering words.

"What?" Scrawny little Pete Marino stopped his game of solitaire, the cards frozen in his hand.

Bobby Russo looked up from his Kubrick biography, but didn't move. Gino Bendetti just looked confused. Bobby translated.