Bradford, 1928
“Hey Joe, where we hunting the bum this week, eh?”
“Well, if ya want know, Bradford, which is where we are as ya’d know if ya hadn’t fallen asleep in the car. Never saw anyone for sack time like yourself.”
“Huh, when you’re hunting Big Tom your hours ain’t exactly regular, he keeps us guessing, Vito.”
Joe Gallo rubbed his red rimmed eyes and caressed his 12 gage shotgun, looking impatiently out the window of the Holly Hotel.
“Big Tom Colombo, ever since they put the contract out on him end of April he’s been like a ghost. Here there, everywhere, never sleeps the same roost and his dames, man, he’s got more girls than any male should. They all dote on the two-timer like he’s the only male on earth.”
Joe made an impatient gesture and rubbed his face. He had a two-day beard and hadn’t had a bath either. He rose and stretched, his arms over his head, making Vito slide down the couch away from him.
“Those dames, like his own little security force, everyone poison jealous of each other, yet not one would ever think of turning on the creep. He has one in every restaurant, on the streets, working the hotels and when we show up he knows we’re in town before we do. It don’t figure, but they love em.”
Joe frowned thinking about how Big Tom’s flock of hens kept him isolated and protected from his hit men. He and his buds couldn’t walk around the corner without some dame seeing them and leading Tom out of harm’s way, but then he smiled broadly.
“Didn’t work out so well for Little Jake though, did it? Always was jealous of Big Tom and thought he’d make a little time with one of his girls, didn’t he, stupid smuck”
Tony laughed out loud at the memory, was it only a few days ago they’d put 2 and 2 together?
“Ya, Little Jake whispering in Mary’s ear when Big Tom wasn’t looking, making her laugh when he thought no one was listening, being sly about it. Big Tom didn’t trust him for sure, but he had to have someone to run his errands, make collections and keep the pressure on the business while he laid low.”
Joe smirked and shook his head. “Ya, Tom caught him sneaking to Mary’s apartment and laid a lickin’ on him. Little Jake took it, but he swore he’d get even when he could.
Tony sat down and put his feet on the coffee table, slipping off his shoes. Vito slide further down the couch.
“Big Tom sure suckered us when he figured Little Jake was trying to edge him out, skimming a little on the side. Told little black eyed Katrina to tip us off he’d be visiting Mary’s last Friday at dawn. We were waiting all right and when Little Jake showed up we let him have it!”
Joe grabbed his shotgun, pointed it at the wall, his eyes like ice and said: “Blam! Dropped the sucker like a bag of rocks. Shame it was till kinda’ dark, thought it was Tom, but Jake was in the game, should’ve known better, should of known Big Tom was on to him and set em’ up.”
Tony frowned and shook his head. “There’s always his dames between him and us. He moves them around like this is a game of chess and we are always a move behind.”
Joe pulled out a greasy notebook and thumbed through it.
“I’ve tried every call there is. Rosie, she can imitate her girlfriends, a regular ventriloquist, but Big Tom never falls for it, we try to set him up, make an appointment, call em, he never comes, no matter which dame we have Rosie imitate on the phone. The guys got a network we can’t get through.”
Tony sniffed: “Something stink around here?”
“Ya, you! You’re a real sweet smeller, part garlic and part garbage! Take a bath!”
Tony bristled up and pointed an accusing finger at Gallo. “Hey, you’re no cannoli yourself! I had the window part way down on the ride down sweetheart!”
Joe chose to ignore Tony, he didn’t need him getting worked up and waving those arms around.
“Can we pattern this guy? Think about it, when he leaves any of his girls does he go to the same place for breakfast, take the same street regularly, visit any particular girl after leaving one of his babes or see his Ma?”
Tony thought and shook his head. “Naw, he too smart for that, too many streets, too many cars, why rumor has it he’s grown a long beard, a real hummer 12-inches long at least.”
“Man, I’d like to nail that on the wall.”
The phone rang. Joe picked it up and stiffened. “What! You sure? Katrina got Mary to slip up? Breakfast on Corydon in 30 minutes? Alright, she’ll get some G notes for this if we score.”
Tony looked up expectantly; “What?”
“Katrina says Big Tom’s having breakfast at the diner.” Joe opened a new box of shells and stuffed them in the shotgun.
Tony looked surprised. “New shells?”
“Ya, Winchester Long Beards. How apropos. They really rip things up. Can’t wait to blast this bum.”
Ten minutes later they strolled into the dinner, the shotgun under Joe’s coat.
A pretty waitress hurried up, smiled brightly and asked; “Joe Gallo?”
Joe looked nervously around making sure the doorway was clear, his ice eyes dangerous. “Who wants to know?”
She laughed, pushing a stray wisp of hair from her forehead. “Your table’s right over there, Big Tom’s bought you breakfast.”
