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“Urbana.”
Why the hell there? There’s not a whole lot there except a university. As I stare at Giaco, it dawns on me. The Grasso don’s youngest son is a student there. They want to set up a cocaine ring there and make money off the students. He wants his kid to be a drug dealer. Some might say I am and so is the rest of the family. I disagree. I sell to distributors. What happens after that and whose hands the drugs wind up in isn’t my problem.
I want to know how this connects to New Orleans. I suspect Edoardo plans to sell the meth down there. Its street price is way cheaper than coke, and there’s a large transient population in the city. But I’ve learned over the years that selling to the homeless not only exploits them — which I find reprehensible since life is already difficult enough without creating or feeding an addiction — it’s an unreliable income source.
This still doesn’t all add up. Edoardo may be ambitious, but he’s not stupid. And neither is the Grasso don. I don’t know him, but I’ve heard of him. He’s certain he’s the second coming of Marlon Brando. Fucking Don Corleone in the flesh. Asshat.
“You have a choice. Tell me the rest of what you know, and I’ll put a bullet between your eyes. Act like you know nothing, and I’ll make you into Swiss cheese before I put a bullet between your eyes. What’ll it be?”
I point my gun at his hip. I’ll shatter it, but it won’t be lethal. I’m watching him, but I’m aware of what my guys are doing. They’re done loading our vehicle, so now they’re keeping watch. I need to wrap this up. I’m tempting fate right now.
“Edoardo thinks that if he can score deals in Kansas City and New Orleans, then he’ll make enough to impress the Mexican Cartels. He wants in on more than the drugs.”
“Human trafficking?”
“Yeah.”
Motherfucker.
“Why?”
“He got a taste for it after what happened to that bratva cunt.”
“You mean he approved of what Luca and Carmine started?”
“Yeah. The Podola-whatever-the-fucks paid the Oskolki good money for the info. Edoardo knows because he’s been tapping their phones for years. With people frequently disappearing in Mexico, he saw an opportunity to make money by buying and then ransoming them back to their families.”
“That is the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard of. If the cartels want someone gone, they want them gone. Having their victims show up again only ensures the poor fucks die. He’ll make a serious enemy, and he’ll wind up dead.”
“He figures the cartels can do whatever the fuck they want with the people once they’re back. He’ll have made the ransom money.”
“There isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he’d ever get enough from a ransom to cover the cost of buying them.”
Giaco shrugs. I know that’s above his rank and paygrade, even if he is Edoardo’s nephew. Obviously, he’s nothing more than a Made Man. While that’s nothing to sneeze at, he’s not acapo. He has no pull in any of his branch’s decisions. He’s a glorified errand boy.
“Anything else?”
“Yeah.”
I wait, but he says nothing. I cock any eyebrow, but he holds out. What the fuck does he think is going to happen besides pissing me off?
“I’ll tell you what you want, but only if you let me go, then I disappear.”
“The fuck I am.”
“Then you won’t know what’s going to happen to that pretty little bitch you’ve been humping.”
I stick my free hand out by my hip. I hear a car door open, then Luigi’s handing me a pair of pliers and a hammer.
“Strip him.”
The guy is bleeding all over the road. I’m actually shocked he’s still conscious. He’s struggling, for sure. But he’s still talking. I almost have to admire that. My guys wrangle him and leave him naked. I survey the wounds I’ve already given him. I holster my gun, knowing my guys all have theirs trained on him.
I squat beside him, and I use the needle-nose pliers to dig out the bullet I put in his thigh. I can’t even imagine just how much pain I’m causing him. I pray I never experience it. I dig out the one in his knee next. Then I take the hammer to his feet. It’s a shame it isn’t a sledgehammer. Then I could go all Kathy Bates fromMiseryon him.
“Speak.”
I use the pliers to pinch his balls.
