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“I see.”
“So, from now on: clean cops to clean businesses. No more shaving off the top and reporting it as a robbery. No more losing the reports. Everything has to be by the book. Mr. Clean over there, ya hear?”
He coughs. “Where’s the money going to go?”
“You let me handle that. I need you to put your thin fucking blue line between me and this Pavel Suvorov punk who keeps fucking with my affairs.”
“Pavel Suvorov?” Captain Sharp whistles. “He’s been making waves.”
I snort. “No shit, Captain. He’s a thorn in my side. Him and those Bernadetti brats.”
“You think he’s the one knocking your galleries?”
“Iknowhe’s been doing it. I’m not fuckin’ stupid,” I grunt while shaking the handkerchief. “If he follows the clean cops, then he’ll hit a damn brick wall. And if he’s dumb enough to whack a clean cop, then the city goes after him, not me. Then you boys in blue can put the fear of God in him, clear my plate, and then we go back to business as usual.”
The captain hums with approval. “Good plan, Don Cardona. I’ll make the shift today. I should have enough men to move around.”
“Do whatever you gotta do. Grab men from outside the city. I don’t care.”
“What about the salaries for the men on your payroll?”
I shrug. “The payments need to be made differently.”
“Where should I send those guys?”
“To the whorehouse in Queens. They can get their payments from there.”
He gives an exasperated sigh. “That’s a lot of change, don. No offense, but my men are—”
“Onmygoddamn payroll, Captain. Which means I call the shots. And you would do well to fuckin’ remember that, understand?”
“Yes, don. My apologies.”
I nod. “Good man. Pavel means business. I shouldn’t have underestimated him, but here we are in a goddamn nightmare.” I drop the handkerchief on the desk. “It’s only a temporary measure. I assure you this will be handled.”
“I trust you, Don Cardona.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
He sighs. Less exasperated. More curious. Like he’s got information.
And I’m all ears.
“Speaking of Pavel Suvorov,” Captain Sharp reports. “We responded to a shooting that involved him recently.”
No shit.I perk up. “A shooting?”
“About a week and a half ago, your little thorn got himself into some trouble. A local spot—Aerial Blue Nightclub—was booked by him and then got shot up.”
“Really?” I smile while glancing out the window, some of my tension melting from my shoulders. The beads of sweat trickling down my neck don’t bother me anymore. I’m invested. “I think I just found my knights.”
“Sorry?”
“Nothing.” I clear my throat and wave my hand for him to continue even though he can’t see me. “Who was responsible? Did you catch the guys involved?”
“No. The clean boys got there first before we could. Recovered a body at the scene—gunshot wounds to the knee and head. Unidentifiable, but tattooed with all the usual Russian stuff.”
“Stars and church domes?”
