We Do What We Must by Richard Robbins

Author:Richard Robbins
Format: epub

Chapter 11 – New Orleans, 1908

After waiting for the ambulance to arrive and take Vitali to Charity Hospital, Corrado and the officer returned to the Giacona residence, which by then had become a crime scene investigation with half a dozen or more officers roaming the grounds, flashlights ablaze, searching for evidence.

The officers sat Pietro and Corrado next to each other on the steps off the rear gallery, just a few feet from Nunzio Barraca’s lifeless body. Capo introduced the second officer as Detective D’Antoni, and explained that they would need to be bring them to the police station for further questioning. Pietro and Corrado stood up and walked freely, without handcuffs, into the police coach, and were taken to the station.

After the short trip, they were led by the officer’s firm grip around their elbows into a small, concrete-walled room, poorly lit in the pre-dawn darkness. Corrado could see the imprint of Detective D’Antoni’s fingers on the inside of his arm, red and swollen from his tight grasp. The few minutes they waited for the officers to complete their paperwork felt like hours, and Corrado fought the urge to try to communicate with his father. The experience was not what Corrado had expected, since he had visited the police station on routine business on many occasions and had been accustomed to the hub of activity taking place, but at this early hour, there were no signs of life anywhere in the building.

The stillness gave him his first chance since the shooting to consider his circumstances and the outcome of his high-stakes plan.

We’re alive, and that is well indeed. That outcome was not a forgone conclusion. The Barracas are dead, as well as one additional, unexpected Black Hand member, and another seriously wounded. Also good.

But while he’d prepared for a revenge attack by asking Matranga for protection, he wondered if he’d properly considered the legal consequences.

Is it possible that we could be tried and convicted of this killing? Surely the police and district attorney would see our side, would not prosecute one who kills a Black Hand member, particularly when done in self-defense.

Just as his thoughts threatened to spiral from concern to panic, he was interrupted by the firm hand of his father, who pressed down on his knee, stopping it from quivering up and down. “Be still,” said Pietro. “Nervous movements imply that you’re hiding something.”

Tough old bird. And a helluva shot.

The officers returned a few minutes later. “You must have friends in high places,” said Captain Capo, reaching his hand underneath Corrado’s underarm to force him to his feet, while Detective D’Antoni did the same to Pietro. “I’m told to take you to the boarding section. That’s away from the other prisoners and allows you unlimited visitation. Come.”

The officers kept their hands wrapped around Corrado’s and Pietro’s upper arms, steering them down a long hall towards a wall of metal bars. D’Antoni opened the heavy, barred door, and herded them inside.

“Try to get a few hours’ sleep,” said Capo. “You may be needed at bail hearing in a few hours.

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