Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“And how are you going to get him to talk?” I asked.
“We’re going to threaten him,” Dmitri said simply.
“What? How?”
“I shouldn’t be hearing this,” my father said, getting up from his chair. “I’m gonna go check on the kids. But keep talking.” He left the kitchen then. But keep talking? Ok, so that was kind of a go-ahead. Wasn’t it?
“Like many of my uncle’s employees, Joe Rudin is scared to death of Gregor Sokolov. Maybe even more so than most, actually, because Joe’s actually a nice kid that’s gotten in way over his head in my uncle’s business,” Dmitri said. “So we’ll tell him that Catherine’s going to her father. We’ll say she’s going to tell him Joe got rough with her on their date, unless Joe gives us the names of those cops. Joe knows that if Catherine goes to her father with a story like that, he’s a dead man. So I’m guessing he’s going to start talking. It’s a total bluff, of course – we’re not telling her father anything. But Joe’s going to be so scared that we probably won’t be able to get him to shut up again.”
“And if he doesn’t fold like a house of cards? Then what? Are you going to smack him around until he talks?” I wanted to know. He didn’t say anything, just holding my gaze steadily. “And Catherine’s ok with this idea? I thought she liked this guy.”
Dmitri looked embarrassed. “She, um, she’s looking forward to it, actually. She says she’ll make it up to Joe, you know, as long as she has him tied – well, you get the picture.”
“I don’t think you should do this.”
“Do you want the names of the crooked cops or not?” he asked. “Because I guarantee you, every other way I can think of to get those names is also illegal and underhanded, probably far more so than this.”
“Yeah, but – ”
“Stop arguing with your boyfriend, James,” my father called. Ok, it was official: the mafia threat tactic had my father the cop’s seal of approval. I didn’t know what to think about that. I could never have imagined my law-and-order dad condoning this kind of thing.
I went and stuck my head in the living room. Both my nephews were asleep on the rug, Dmitri’s cell phone clutched between them. My dad had draped a blanket over them, and Tippy had curled up on the blanket and was asleep, too. I crossed the room to the sleeping kids and carefully pried the phone from their fingers, then slid it into one of the pockets of my cargo shorts before turning to face my dad. “How are you ok with this?” I asked him, keeping my voice down.
He was in his recliner, the Chronicle in his hands and his reading glasses on, and he looked at me over the top of his glasses and said, “Look Jamie, I need the names of those cops. You know what the force means to me. I can’t let this corruption fester. And if that means looking the other way while some mafia dipstick gets tied up by a pretty girl, well, big fucking deal.”
I stared at him for a long moment. It felt like everything I knew about my father was shifting, realigning somehow. Ok, maybe as far as crimes went, threatening Joe Rudin for information wasn’t so terrible. It wasn’t like Dmitri was talking about blowing someone’s head off. But still, this was my dad. He was all about justice, totally by the book. How could someone like my father even think about turning his head while a crime was committed?
I didn’t say anything. I just went back to the kitchen.
Dmitri was sitting at the table in front of a big plate of macaroni and cheese, green beans and garlic bread. He watched me closely as I crossed the room and sat beside him, and then he reached up and squeezed my shoulder, compassion in his blue eyes. He somehow got what I was going through right now. My mom put a plate of food in front of me, and I ate automatically.
And when it was time to leave, we went back into the living room and Dmitri said, “I’ll be in touch as soon as possible, Mr. Nolan, with those names.”
My father studied Dmitri for a long moment. And then he said, “You know, I wasn’t too thrilled about my son going out with you. To be honest, I’m still not. But I see you’re trying to do the right thing here. And I see you really care about Jamie.”
“I do, sir. I’d do anything to keep him safe,” Dmitri said.
“Look,” my father said, “if you’re sincere about trying to put your uncle away and getting yourself free of the mob, then I’ll help you in any way I can. If this idea with the Packard doesn’t pan out, and frankly I doubt it will, then we’ll pursue other avenues. I’ve been wanting to see Gregor Sokolov behind bars for most of my career. There has to be some way to make that happen.”