Stained

2215 hrs. 15 more minutes. “…washes the stain right off…” Why am I watching the Home Shopping Network? Click. “…meanwhile the race for President…” Click. “…que pasa…” Click. Click. “…Britney Spears declined to comment…” Great. Click. “…the clothes in lukewarm water…”

2231 hrs. The phone’s ringing. I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep. “We’re downstairs. Where are ya, Johnny?”. “Coming”

“We’re making the drop at the St. Louis dock. North pier. Johnny, you and Castano, stay near the walkway. Pop anyone who comes out before me.”

2235 hrs. 10 minutes to drop time. Cold, cold night. Why would anyone want to be out in this weather? Why couldn’t they sit at home and watch TV? But again, with all the tripe that’s on, you might as well get out, make some money, pop some lead.

Franki was talking non-stop.

“…can’t believe Don Marco would’ve doubted me…”.

Yeah Frankie, you’d never let go of the chance to make a few more greenbacks, would you? So what did they pay you Frankie?

“…you listening to me Johnny?”.

Frankie was looking around at me from the front seat.

“What is with you Johnny boy? Too much television eroding your brain?”.

“I’m fine, just a bit…bit under the weather”.

“Under the weather. Under the weather? Who talks like that? I mean…”

2243 hrs. St. Louis dock. 2 Minutes to drop. “Alright, we’re here. Remember everything I told you. If I’m not back in 5, head back to the den, don’t speak to anyone. You hear me Johnny? Castano?”.

2245 hrs. Frankie was a nice guy. His only problem was money. He could never have enough. Don Barzagli had obviously seen this. Well in 5 more minutes Frankie was going to pay more than he could ever earn. The only problem was going to be Castano, the new kid.

“So Johnny, Frankie tells me you were out of town last week”.

“Mom’s sister’s funeral. Down in Texas”.

“Oh yeah? So how come I saw you down in Queen’s, Johnny? With Officer Barrigan.”  Castano was not asking, he was saying. I turned around as a gun pressed into my temple.

“You really thought I’d let you pop me off like that Johnny”. Frankie was walking out from behind the shed. “You think I didn’t know why you were here?” The gun muzzle felt icy against my head. “You’re a pathetic actor, Johnny, even with all the television you watch. Give Don Marco my regards”.

It all happened so quick. Castano’s feet slipped on the ice. He was dead before he hit the ground though. The gun in my hand was smoking. I fired a couple of shots at a figure vanishing into the dark. I heard the sound of a car starting. Tyres squealed on asphalt. And then I felt a warmth in my side. I’d been hit, damn it.

2330 hrs. Back home. Frankie jumped to the Barzaglis. They had men on the inside. Don Marco had known I was a cop. I was supposed to kill Frankie and Castano. But then I was still alive. It didn’t make sense. Christ, I was bleeding. I’d have to wash this T. Maybe I’d use one of them powders shown on TV. But it didn’t make sense. Why would Don Marco keep me alive knowing I was a cop? It didn’t make sense. Unless…

0032 hrs. They were showing Seinfeld on TV. Again. And then somebody knocked on the door. They’d given me an hour. I put my ear to the door, listening.

“Johnny, you there?”. Just as I thought, he’d sent dear old Iacquinto.

“…if you have blood stains on you shirt, maybe laundry isn’t your biggest problem right now…”  

“Fellas, break the door down…”