Boston Bust-Out (The Assassin Book 3) by Peter McCurtin

Author:Peter McCurtin [McCurtin, Peter]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Hitmen, Mafia, adventure, assassin, cops, Boston, Piccadilly Publishing, pulp ficiton writing
Publisher: Piccadilly
Published: 2022-08-31T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

SATURDAY, MAY 8,4:30 P.M.

The news of the Assassin’s strike against the whorehouse, the death of Santucci, had shaken the remaining members of the Toriello family’s board of directors. Everything was going wrong. The trap hadn’t worked. One by one they were being cut down, and now Louisa Fioretti was pointing the finger at LoScalzo.

LoScalzo! Toriello didn’t want to believe it, but he listened while his mistress told her story. It was a wild idea—the Assassin teaming up with LoScalzo—but ambition brought strange allies together. A hard, tough, ruthless man might make a play for the leadership, would take any steps necessary to get rid of his rivals, would stop at nothing to destroy the present boss, would do business with anybody who would promise to make him top man. But was LoScalzo dumb enough to believe Briganti would keep his word to a Mafioso?

Toriello’s eyes blazed with cold anger. “The bastard,” he cursed in a whisper. “Traditore!”

Ed Barton, the WASP mouthpiece, had a more reserved opinion. “Are you certain?” he asked. “Briganti is the last man we should be ready to believe.”

“Louisa doesn’t lie.” Toriello half-raised himself from his chair in a furious gesture of anger.

“Of course she doesn’t,” Barton said. “I’m sure she believes what she’s saying. But we need proof.”

“It’s proof enough for me,” Toriello said. “What do you expect me to do? Wait for LoScalzo to cut down the rest of us? Bullshit! I’ve heard enough.”

“What are you going to do about it?” asked the lawyer.

Toriello’s laugh was hard, bitter. “What do you think!”

The lawyer leaned back in his chair, stared quietly at the ceiling for a moment, considering Toriello’s snap decision.

“How?” Barton asked.

Toriello said: “I’ll tell you how. Get me Vesco. I want him over here, right now.”

“Vesco?” Barton raised his eyebrows in surprise.

Toriello leaned forward, his hands clasped on the desk before him. He stared at Barton through slitted lids. “Just do what I tell you. Call Vesco. Call him now.”

Barton shrugged, went to the phone and dialed.

Vesco arrived twenty minutes later.

Toriello had calmed down considerably by then. His mind, always alert, always busy, had been actively considering the problem. “We’ve got a job for you, Paulie.”

“Certainly, Don Franco.” Vesco made a gesture that was practically a bow.

“I want you to contact my good friend LoScalzo. He trusts you. There’s no reason why he shouldn’t. Tell him that Santucci has been hit. That’s the truth, my friend. The Assassin struck again today. Tell LoScalzo we got to have a meeting right away. Here. In an hour. But don’t tell him that I’m here. Don’t mention that Louisa is here. All you know is, you had a call from me. Tell him I’m at Barton’s office. You meet with LoScalzo, then bring him here. No one else, understand. Just LoScalzo.”

Vesco’s eyes opened wide as he looked from Toriello to Barton. One look at their cold, set faces told him that LoScalzo had only hours to live. “Christ!” he said. “LoScalzo.”

Toriello smiled gently. “Yes, my friend. LoScalzo.

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