King of the Bootleggers Read online

  An older man wearing a flat-cap picked up a shoe-shine brush, "Doin' okay, Mr. Nuvolette. Still cold, but not as cold as yesterday. Had a fire going in the small barrel the other day but one of the coppers stopped us. Don't know how a man can work if he can't keep his polish good and ready for his customers."

  Nuvolette took a step up on the shoeshine stand and sat down for his regular shoeshine, giving a quick nod to the man who was already sitting and getting his shoes shined by another shoe-shiner.

  The customer had a scarf around his nose and mouth and his collar up to ward off the cold. He gave a brief nod in return but never really made eye contact.

  Connie picked up a small stool, threw a shine-rag over his shoulder and sat down to begin applying polish to Nuvolette's shoes.

  Nuvolette settled back, "Hearing any interesting news on the street?"

  Connie shook his head as he worked the polish in, "No. But Marvin here started telling me about seeing Councilman Brockovich with a young lady late last night."

  "Very young," Marvin intoned as he took the polish-rag off his shoulder and began buffing his customer's shoes.

  Nuvolette smiled deviously, "Working girl?"

  "More like a young schoolgirl type," Marvin said with a chuckle.

  Marvin's customer calmly pulled a British Webley Bull-Dog pocket-revolver from his coat pocket and placed the end of the barrel over against Nuvolette's temple in one smooth motion. He pulled the trigger and the bullet tore through Nuvolette's brain. Then he swung the pocket-revolver down and shot Connie in the face and then placed a bullet between Marvin's eyes just as the man was looking up. Standing up and stepping down from the seat, he casually placed another bullet in Marvin, another one in Connie and then two more in Nuvolette's head to make sure. Slipping the pocket-revolver back into his pocket, the man turned left and calmly walked down the street.

  Four people on the other side of the street were already running for cover. A woman stepped out of a shop just as the gunman was passing but she never really looked at him. Her eyes were wide open and staring down the street towards the bodies lying around the shoeshine stand. She let out a scream and ran back inside the shop.

  The gunman turned left at the corner and calmly walked to a 1918 McLaughlin Buick. Getting in, he calmly started the car as several youngsters rushed by, heading to see what had happened. As he did a U-turn in the street and drove away, Primo Troilo removed the scarf and hoped his partner had succeeded in his own hit.

  Chapter 47

  Little Racalmuto, Hamilton

  BRUNO GAGLIANO WALKED SLOWLY along the sidewalk, passing the Racalmutese Social Club. He pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his heavy coat, seeking its warmth. He loved this area. It had been home for twenty-five years, ever since he had left Italy behind at sixteen years old. Contacts had set him up to work for Roman Provenzano and because of Bruno's size, it wasn't long before he was used mainly as an enforcer. Even at a young age, his strength had attracted grown men wanting to take him down and make a name for themselves. It never happened. He had settled into the community here, attended Our Lady of All Souls Church occasionally, played bocce with the old men, knocked a few balls around in the local pool hall from time to time and got his hair cut by Angelo, like everyone else.

  He glanced through the bakery window and waved at Concetta Pacelli. She smiled and waved back before heading into the back to the bakery. She was thirty-five, beautiful, curvaceous and could bake bread like his mother had. He had thought about asking her out a few times but just couldn't do it. Big Bruno could crack a skull but was too shy to ask her out. And it only made sense. All the young, handsome men in the neighborhood had tried and she had refused them all. What chance did he have?

  The aroma of red peppers sizzling on the grill caught his attention as he was passing the Carmelina Caffè. He stepped back to see what meal was being served to the elderly couple sitting just on the other side of the front window. A reflection in the glass made him duck–

  Cosimo Saputo's bullet tore a hole through the window of the Carmelina Caffè as he strode across the street, gun-hand extended straight out. He lowered his aim and put one in the big man's back. Then another.

  Primo Troilo came walking from Gagliano's right, putting three bullets in the big man's side as well, "Traditore!"

  "Stronzo," Saputo yelled as he drew closer and fired again. "You turn on us and work for DeLuca? Bastardo–"

  Bruno Gagliano ignored the pain, gathered his legs under him and launched himself through what remained of the cafe window. He crashed onto the table on the other side, sweeping the old couples' meal to the floor as he fell. Blood streaked the table behind him.

  The old couple had already hidden in the corner, their hands over their head. The two other patrons had launched themselves to the floor and were quaking with fear.

  Troilo swore as he brought his gun up and looked for the body on the other side of the shattered window, "Get him. Go after him."

  Saputo ran for the entrance.

  Bruno rolled over on the floor, grimacing in pain. He rolled against a table and swept his arm out, sweeping it out of his way. It crashed against the wall, followed by one of the wooden chairs that splintered on contact. He headed for the kitchen door on his hands and knees, grimacing in pain.

  Saputo pulled the door open and spotted his target. He fired twice.

  Bruno felt the searing pain in his shoulder and shoulder blade, collapsing on the left side of his face. He grabbed for a chair frantically with his right hand and threw it back hard towards the shooter.

  Saputo's next shot when into the ceiling as he tried to avoid the flying chair.

  Pushing himself up on his hands and knees again, Bruno scrambled for the kitchen door.

  Troilo took aim through the broken window from outside and put another bullet in the big man's lower back.

  Bruno opened his mouth in a silent scream as the bullet tore through a kidney. He lifted himself to his feet and ran low for the kitchen door. It swung inward as he crashed against it and then swung back out, catching two bullets meant for him.

  Saputo swung his handgun to the left as he passed the two customers and put a bullet in each one, eliminating them as witnesses.

  Troilo swung his weapon to the right as he followed his partner shooting the elderly couple as they cowered in each other's arms.

  INSIDE THE KITCHEN, Carmelina DiLuzio, the owner had taken refuge in here when the shooting began, put her hands to her head and screamed when Bruno landed on his side at her feet. Donella Sanfilippo, the cook and Susanna Amoroso, a server, were huddling against the pantry on the right and began screaming as well.

  Bruno saw them as he struggled to get up, "Fuggire. Run–"

  Carmelina DiLuzio grabbed a huge meat cleaver from a hook near her head and swung it down with both hands at Bruno's head.

  Bruno's right hand caught the handle just under the head before it crashed into his face. He ripped it from her hands and growled, "Fuggire!"

  COSIMO SAPUTO BROUGHT his leg up, kicked at the swinging doors into the kitchen and stepped through, his weapon sweeping the kitchen for his target. He pulled the trigger and Carmelina DiLuzio went down in a heap.

  Primo Troilo was in the doorway, following his partner, gun up.

  Bruno had managed to get to one knee behind the door and now he lifted his bulk and slammed his shoulder into the door, sending it flying back out where it caught Primo Troilo full force and knocked him backward onto the floor.

  Donella Sanfilippo and Susanna Amoroso were screaming and running in full flight for the back door.

  Cosimo Saputo turned to face Bruno, bringing his gun around.

  Bruno brought the huge meat cleaver down on the top of Saputo's head, splitting it right to the nose in front. As the body fell backward and landed with a thud, Bruno launched himself over top of it and dove to the floor.

  On the other side of the door, Primo Troilo sat up, reloaded quickly and fired several shots throug
h the kitchen door.

  Donella Sanfilippo's screams stopped abruptly as she fell to the floor.

  Troilo got up and kicked the door open again, bringing his weapon to bear on the first thing he saw.

  Susanna Amoroso turned to her friend, her mouth open to scream, and took two bullets to the chest, falling backward onto the floor.

  Bruno ignored the agony in his body as he scrambled for the back door. His hands slipped in blood and he crashed face down to the floor. Two bullets buried themselves in the back door just over his head. Gathering his waning strength, Bruno drove his bulk and smashed through the back door of the cafe, landing in the alleyway outside.

  Stepping over his dead partner, Primo Troilo moved forward, gun up, seeking his target. Through the smashed-open back door on the far side of the kitchen, he saw the large form of Bruno Gagliano lying in the back alley and he fired. He grinned when he heard a grunt.

  Bruno began slowly crawling to the left, looking for a place to hide in the alleyway.

  Stepping through the blood and over the bodies of the two women, Troilo brought his weapon up again, watching carefully for an attack as he approached the doorway to the back alley. Jumping through quickly, he saw his target on the ground not more than ten feet away. He fired.

  Bruno slumped to the ground with a groan.

  Troilo grinned fiendishly as he stepped towards the big man. Straddling the fallen man's legs, Troilo aimed down at the back of his head, "Traditore–"

  A female scream echoed down the alleyway and a body landed on Troilo's back.

  Spinning in a circle, Troilo tried to bring his gun to bear on whoever was screaming in his ear.

  Bruno struggled to turn over as he heard the screams. He saw a woman on Troilo's back.

  Troilo stopped spinning and then quickly bent forward, flipping the woman hard off his back.

  The woman screamed but it was cut off as she landed with a heavy thud on her back, her black shoes high in the air, her bare legs and red knickers flashing.

  Lifting his weapon, Troilo grinned and aimed it directly at the woman's face.

  Bruno saw who it was and fear struck his heart.

  Concetta Pacelli swore, her beautiful face a mask of anger as she kicked out at Troilo, defiant to the end.

  Bruno realized Concetta had been in the back of the bakery and had come to his aid when she saw what was happening. And now she was going to die. Because of him. He began an agonizing, slow-crawl in desperation towards her.

  Troilo laughed as he looked down at Concetta's long shapely legs and her red knickers.

  Concetta swore and kicked again, catching him in the shin this time but she didn't even budge the man.

  Troilo lifted a foot and drove it down between her legs, grinning when she yelled in agony. He raised the weapon, aiming at her head, "Too bad I don't have time. I bet you'd be a great fu–"

  Sweeping his arm out, Bruno took Troilo legs out from under him.

  Landing hard on his back, Troilo lost his grip on the gun.

  Concetta grunted in agony, hands between her legs, but she managed to shoot her bare leg out and she knocked the gun away a foot.

  Bruno grabbed Troilo and pulled him towards his body, trying to get on top of him. But he had lost too much blood. He was too weak and lost his hold.

  Troilo growled and quickly scrambled on top of Bruno, gaining the advantage. Placing his hands around the big man's neck, he looked down and began to squeeze.

  Bruno desperately tried to rip the man's arms away, but he had no strength. He slapped at the man's arms. It was useless. Blackness began to creep into the edge of his vision. He blinked when the butt of a Colt Model 1900 semi-automatic .38 caliber handgun appeared near his right hand. Is this a dream? Is this how you die...? He saw Concetta's beautiful face.

  She was on her stomach, crawling forward, tears streaming down her face from the pain between her legs, moving the gun in her hand closer to Bruno's hand.

  Bruno heard her say, "I don't know how to use this...." He weakly opened his hand and she placed the weapon against his palm. He slowly moved his finger to the trigger and felt for the sight-safety...it was on, probably when it hit the ground. He barely had the strength to flip the safety, aim the weapon and pull the trigger.

  The bullet entered Primo Troilo's temple and his brains and blood showered the alleyway.

  Blackness claimed Bruno Gagliano. I love Little Racalmuto. I love....

  Chapter 48

  ROCCO AND TONY sat on stools at the far end of a small lunch counter, away from everyone else. Half-finished coffee and toast lay on the counter in front of them. Also laying there was The Globe, a Toronto newspaper they had already gone through. The headline was quite prominent: Two Brazen Murders Rock City.

  Tony had another Toronto newspaper open, this one The Mail and Empire, "Mauro Contini was shot seven times as he left the Fumer Puros Emporium in East Toronto. Eyewitnesses described the last two shots as execution-style, in the top of the head." He shook his head, "Same as The Globe, no one could describe the shooter because he had a scarf wrapped around his face."

  Rocco held the Toronto Evening Telegram open, reading it, "And this one says Giovany Nuvolette was shot twice while he was getting his shoes shined in North Toronto. Both of the shoeshine boys were shot dead as well. The shooter wore a scarf around his lower face and walked away very calmly."

  Tony scanned the rest of the article and folded the newspaper on top of the other one, "Contini and Nuvolette were basically killed around the same time in two separate parts of the city."

  Rocco turned the page to find the remainder of the article he was reading, "That's one hell of a coincidence. It doesn't look like the police have any leads at all."

  Tony signaled for more coffee and was silent as both cups were refreshed. When the young woman moved back down the counter, he picked his cup up and felt the warmth with his other hand, thinking.

  Rocco finished his article and folded the newspaper, piling it on top of the others. He picked up his coffee and put it to his lips, testing it before taking a drink.

  "Victor Cipriano?" Tony asked in a low voice.

  Rocco set his cup down with a clink and ran his finger around the rim. "From what I know, both Contini and Nuvolette were Camorra. They were into La Mano Nera...Black Hand stuff. They weren't interfering with anything Cipriano was doing."

  Tony scratched the back of his head, "Maybe he wants to take over extortion up there as well."

  Popping a piece of cold toast into his mouth, Rocco chewed thoughtfully. Picking up his coffee, he shook his head slightly, "Maybe. But it doesn't make any sense. He has the opportunity to make a lot of money with liquor...."

  "But he wouldn't be the first to have grand ambitions."

  "By taking on two separate wars at the same time? That's not ambitious, that's stupid."

  "Maybe he's working with someone on the inside of both families–?"

  The front door opened and Angelo Controni came rushing in. He stopped and looked around...spotted Rocco and Tony and headed for them quickly.

  Tony swung around on his stool, "What's–"

  "Besha sent me to find you. Bruno Gagliano's been shot down in Little Racalmuto."

  Tony was up in a heartbeat, "What? When? What happened–?"

  Angelo shook his head, "I don't know. They said they found the telephone number to the distillery in his pocket and they called us looking for family. He's in the James Street Hospital and a priest has been called for last rites."

  Chapter 49

  James Street Hospital

  THE RECEPTIONIST AT THE FRONT of the hospital sent Rocco, Tony, and Angelo up to the third floor where her information said that Bruno Gagliano was in surgery. Pounding up the stairs, they shot past doctors, nurses and visitors until they were soon pounding down a long hallway, following the signs on the walls. Turning the corner to the surgery, they nearly knocked over several doctors and nurses standing in a group.

  A large, heavy
set nurse with a severe look on her face took a step forward, "What exactly do you men think you're doing–?"

  "Someone here called us. You were looking for the family of Bruno Gagliano," Rocco said.

  One of the doctors stepped forward and held out his hand, "Yes, sir. I'm Dr. Korten. I performed the surgery on Mr. Gagliano."

  Rocco took the man's hand and shook it, "I'm Rocco. Is he going to be all right?"

  A smile creased the doctor's face, "Actually your brother is an amazing man. I dug ten bullets out of him–"

  "Ten! Really...ten?" Angelo asked in surprise.

  "Yes, sir. Several of them would have killed a normal man."

  "When can we see him?" Tony asked.

  "He's in room Ward 3, but only family–"

  The three men were heading for Ward 3 in a heartbeat.

  The doctor called out from behind them, "Tell the woman with him she needs to be looked at and cleaned up as well."

  The three men followed the signs along the wall until they spotted the Ward 3 sign up ahead. Several policemen and a detective were talking further down the hallway. A nurse in a long white dress was just coming out of a door and put a hand up to stop them, saying 'only family'...but Rocco moved her aside and stepped through the doorway, followed by the other two.

  Ward 3 was actually one long room with rolling, wooden dividers between each iron bed. Rocco led the way along the line of beds.

  The nurse stepped back into the doorway behind them, calling out, "Gentlemen...please...."

  Near the end of the line of beds, they found Bruno Gagliano lying under a white blanket. A dark-haired, beautiful woman was sitting on a wooden chair up near his head. Blood and other matter stained her dress. Dried blood was smeared across one cheek. She instantly went on alert, a defiant look on her face as she stood and lifted her hand. Water in the glass she held splashed as she prepared to throw it.