The bookie shop was a two-story walk up in a seedy part of town. The building was squalid, even by East L.A. standards. As head of his crime family, Salvatore Amato could afford a luxurious suite on Wilshire Boulevard, yet he preferred to conduct his "private" business in a dilapidated room behind the bookie's. Tony Milano knew it well, having placed most of his bets there. He entered the mob boss' office with mild trepidation. He knew why he had been summoned.
"Antonio!" Amato greeted him with a bear hug. "You're looking good. You been working out lately?"
"I hit the gym when I can." He decided to lead on a positive note. "The Vincenzo matter's been taken care of."
"Good, good." Amato gave a perfunctory smile before turning serious. "We have another matter to discuss, Antonio. Pasquale tells me you've been betting the horses again."
Tony grimaced. "You know I like the ponies, Sal."
"Yeah, but they don't like you. Pasquale showed me your markers; you're down more than fifteen grand."
"Some weeks I'm up, some weeks I'm down. That's how it goes. But I always pay it off, Sal."
Amato sank into his deep leather chair. "That's the thing, Antonio. When you're down a couple hundred, we let it slide. But the past few months, you've been on a losing streak. Fifteen grand, Antonio. I can't ignore that."
"I promise, you'll get your money. But fifteen grand is chump change to you, Sal."
Amato nodded. "True, but that's not the point. If the other wiseguys see I let you slide then it creates a bad precedent. Soon everyone would be taking liberties, thinking they could get away with inappropriate behavior. You need to pay off your markers."
"Of course I will. Like you said, it's been a long losing streak. My luck is due for a change."
Amato shrugged. "Maybe it will, maybe it won't. It doesn't matter. Just pay off your markers within forty-eight hours."
Tony gulped. "Two days? Sal, be reasonable. Where am I going to get my hands on that kind of dough in two days?"
"That's not my problem, Antonio. That's your problem."
"But Sal –"
"How's your mother doing? Still in the Seaview Nursing Home? Such a lovely lady. I should really pay her a visit sometime. Does she like flowers? My niece owns a flower shop; they make the loveliest wreaths."
The color drained from Tony's face. "Sal, leave my mother out of this. You'll get your money. I'll get you every penny."
Amato lit a cigar. "Forty-eight hours, Antonio." He puffed a ring of smoke into Tony's face.
***** ***** ***** *****
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Cops and Robbers
General Fiction* A Quirky Crime Drama * A pair of FBI agents set up a bogus movie production as part of an unlikely sting operation to snare a mob kingpin. They buy the worst script in Hollywood and hire a failed movie producer whose career is on the skids; a...
