The Wrong Man

51

Peter Ramini got into the backseat of the town car and didn’t even look at Donnie. He smelled him, though. The whole backseat reeked of fried food. An Egg McMuffin wrapper and plenty of crumbs lay on the floor at Donnie’s feet. A cup of coffee rested in the cup holder near Ramini’s feet. He missed coffee desperately.

“So I don’t even need to tell you why the visit,” said Donnie.

Ramini looked at the driver, Donnie’s brother Mooch, who was watching Ramini in the rearview mirror.

“No, you don’t.”

“Paulie said to ask: What wasn’t clear about his instruction?”

“It’s not a matter of clear, Don. The guy pretty much works round the clock right now. He’s got that trial. There’s no way to get to him up there in that office.”

“He don’t go home at night?”

“Yeah, he goes home.” Ramini’s frustration was growing. And his fear, too. When instructions weren’t followed, there were consequences. He knew he was running out of rope with Paulie Capparelli.

“Hey, you know how it goes,” said Donnie, his tone less amicable than normal. He was delivering an icy message, and they both knew it. “So Paulie said to say, someone’s gonna die. It’s either gonna be Jason Kolarich or Gin Rummy.” Donnie looked over at Ramini.

Ramini bristled at the nickname. “It’ll get done right away,” he said. “No more delays. Tell Paulie it’s my word.”

Donnie put a greasy hand on Ramini’s arm. Ramini, of course, had his hands stuffed in his pockets. “I got a soft spot for your family, old man, you know that. I told Paulie, I said, ‘Gin Rummy’s gonna take care of everything.’ Don’t make me a liar, my friend.”

Ramini slid out of the car and watched it drive away. He knew he was out of warnings with Paulie Capparelli.

Jason Kolarich had to die right away.