Chapter 9

Written by: Ray Stone

“We know all about the Whiskey, Joe … and the cigarettes. Your name’s been on my wall for months but I kind of thought you might snitch for me when I had more so you and I could do a deal.”

Lieutenant Schriver looked at me through the driving mirror as we turned slowly from the lot.

“I hear Tony’s a big shot for daddy. How about you, Joe? Now you’ve had a chance to see what’s going on it’s time you got out while you can walk.”

Tony said nothing, neither did I. I guessed it was better for me to stay firmly zipped up.

The Lieutenant looked sideways. “Hey, Bruce, what d’ya say we take them to the precinct warehouse and soften them up a little?”

Bruce, a heavyset man wearing a trilby and open raincoat, replied gruffly. “Yeah, only this time don’t get over enthusiastic. I ain't gonna cover for you on another broken jaw.”

I looked at Tony, and he smiled.

“Don’t worry, Joe. These two dicks ain't gonna do anythin’. They ain’t got nothin’ but heavy rocks between their ears.” Tony leaned forward. “I want our lawyer. Til then we ain’t sayin’ nothin’ to you. I’m takin’ the fifth.”

The detectives burst into loud laughter. The patrol car swerved around a corner and pulled into a parking lot near the warehouse I had collected the first stiff from. They got out of the car and pulled me roughly from the back. A black hood suddenly slid over my head, blotting out Schriver’s smirking face.

“Okay smartass, let’s take a walk. You’re on your own. Tony ‘Baby-Face,’ has got a room all on his own.”

I stumbled forward across the concrete, my hands cuffed and held by Schriver to guide me. We walked slowly through a door and I got pushed into a chair. My body and legs were tied down, and that's when I got the shivers. If they were going to work me over, I decided I’d try staying quiet.

“Okay, Joe, spill or be given the water treatment.”

Cold water poured over my head, and I couldn’t help it. Damn it. I screamed. 

“We know you were actively involved in Digger’s death, Joe. Tell us about Tony doing him, or I’ll pin this job on you.”

“I ain’t no snitch,” I screamed. “I don’t know anything about murder. It wasn’t Tony. He’s innocent. You go to hell.”

I heard someone snigger and then a load of water was poured over my head again. I screamed, but at the same time, there was a lot of laughter.

The hood came off my head, and all the boys and Mr. Sparizza were gathered around me. 

“Sorry to play this on you, Joe. It was Tony’s idea. He wanted you to be a ‘made’ man, so I wanted to make sure of your loyalty. 

The short ceremony followed, and the first guy to hug me was Digger.

Little did any of us know what was going to happen next.


At least the cop only covers for broken jaws. I thought it was going to be for a dead body. That was clever. And then he turns out not to be a cop. I couldn't stop reading. This hovers so closely to parody then darts away to a serious crime story. That is good!