Barely Legal

103

Taperelli was sitting in his large leather chair with his feet up and a drink in his hand. On a local chat show Jules Kenworth was pontificating on the benefits his new building would have for the community. To hear him talk, Jules Kenworth was almost singlehandedly responsible for easing unemployment and bringing commerce to New York City.

Tommy Taperelli’s wife stuck her head in the study door.

“Not now,” Taperelli said irritably. His wife knew better than to disturb him in the study.

“There are cops outside. I thought you’d want to know.”

Taperelli kicked his feet off the settee and spilled his drink. “What the hell!?”

He went to the window, lightly brushed aside a corner of the curtain, and looked outside.

Taperelli called Mookie. “I’ve got cops on my house.”

“Oh?”

“So far they’re just doing drive-bys, no one’s knocked on the door. But they’re staking the place out, so maybe someone talked and they’re looking for the girl. If so, they’re looking in the wrong place. They’ve got no reason to look in the right place, but be alert. You out there now?”

“Yeah.”

“How many guys you got?”

“Me, Gus, Chico, and Lou.”

“Everybody carrying?”

“Sure.”

“Check on the girl.”

Mookie hung up the phone and went upstairs. The door was closed, the key was in the lock.

Mookie raised his voice. “Back away from the door.”

Mookie took his gun out, unlocked the door with his left hand, twisted the knob, and pushed the door open.

Melanie was standing by the door, close enough to have kicked him if he hadn’t been wary. When she saw the gun in his hand she took a step back.

“That’s a good girl,” Mookie said.

“I have to go to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, well, I’d like to win the lottery,” Mookie said. He slammed the door and went downstairs to get a beer.