Bloody Sunday 4
Dec. 24th, 2005 03:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bedlamsbardMy characters are all insane. I don't know why they do this too me. Insane. You hear me? Insane. This was not in the outline! However, I think it works in the context of the story.
Val Constantine stepped out of his townhouse, blinking away the bright glare of sunlight on snow that hadn’t yet been completely beaten away. Mostly gone, but not quite; the sidewalks were still completely covered. Behind him, Carmine swung the door shut and locked it, then checked the gun at the small of his back, fingers sliding around on the butt before he tugged his jacket back into place. “You sure you want to do this, Val?”
Val stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t have a choice, do I? If the Commission wants Danny to go to Chicago, they won’t take no for an answer.”
“And what do you expect Danny to say, huh? I don’t think the kid’s going to say anything other than what he’s been saying for the past twenty years.” Carmine lifted his face up towards the cloudy sky. “He’s not going to change his mind, Val.”
“He’s going to have to,” Val said stubbornly. They set off at a brisk pace down the street. “If he doesn’t, the Commission will appoint an heir. I don’t want the Constantine Family to end up in the Commission’s pocket. Not now – not after I’m dead – not ever.”
“You do realize that they’ll probably name me, right? I am your underboss.”
“And if this was any other Family, I’d be delighted and honored to name you as my heir. But this is the Constantine Family –”
“And blood is thicker than water or wine,” Carmine said dryly. “I know, Val. I’ve only been part of the Constantine Family for the past thirty years. It’s because I’m from a Commission Family, isn’t it?”
“I trust you with my Family,” Val said. “I’ve never thought Danny would take my place. I’d hoped he could rule in name and nothing more. Before, it might have been possible.”
“But we’re part of the Commission now, and the Commission likes to have its hand in everything. Danny’d have to be an active member, not a passive leader. And there’s no way in hell he’d go for that.”
“No,” Val said. “I have to tallk with him. Nicky wants him to show his loyalty to the Commission – he doesn’t like it that Danny’s never come to one meeting, or that he’s never seen Danny or heard of him being involved in any Constantine business. He knows about Tanglewood, and that Danny’s a cop, but –”
“Words are one thing, deeds are another,” Carmine said. “And this Chicago mess –”
“Damn the Chicago PD anyway,” Val said. “And damn Nicky Pagliuca. He wants Constantine to take point on this – it’s not just Danny, it’s me too. I don’t think he’s sure about our loyalty.”
“Hell, would you be, Val, if you were in his place? You’ve been pretty damn outspoken about your dislike of the Commission, and then you go and get yourself made? That’s gotta raise a few eyebrows. Saved Nicky’s life, though, and his Family.”
“And that’s the only reason he said yes. Blue Eyes was planning something and he knew it, just like he knew he’d die the moment he put Blue Eyes’ name in as don. And there’s no way he could have said no, after –”
“No matter how much you wanted him to, huh?”
Val sighed. “The Commission has never liked me, Carmine.”
“Yeah, well, the Commission’s not happy you’ve got the son of the Dellacroce underboss as your underboss. They’d like to think they can control you through me, but that’d be a no. And if you think they don’t like you, you should see the way they look at me. They’ve never liked traitors.”
“You’re no traitor,” Val said.
“D’Alessandro’s sworn to Dellacroce, and you know it.”
“Who doesn’t?” He sighed. “Nicky –”
“It true he’s trying to marry his daughter to you?”
“Unfortunately. He’s trying to bind us to the Commission with blood – the traditional way.”
“Astra must be real happy about that.”
“Astra has been protesting at the top of her lungs and threatening to elope with Ace. Which would bind us to Pagliuca, but not the way Nicky wants. Barring me, he’d like Danny.”
Carmine swung around to stare at him, wide-eyed. “No fucking way, Val. He’s trying to marry Astra to Danny? Now there’s a match made in hell. Astra’d eat Danny alive.”
“Danny doesn’t know about it, and he’s not going to.”
“Hell, maybe you should go for it,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad match – actually, it’s a pretty damn good one. And it’s not like you’d be bound to the Commission itself, just Pagliuca, and they already owe you a couple debts. Marriage binds –”
“I’d hate to see Danny’s reaction to the suggestion,” Val said dryly. “As he’s fond of reminding me, he does not, in fact, consider himself part of the Constantine Family, all evidence to the contrary aside.”
“That’s nothing new, he’s been saying it for years.”
“Also, my mother was a Pagliuca. That verges disturbingly close to incest.”
“Josephina Pagliuca was only a cousin to Nicky. That’d make you and Astra, what, second, third cousins? Something like that for Danny, too, right? That’s legal, and pretty mild by Commission standards.”
“Incest,” Val said again, unhappily. “No offense to your bloodline meant, Carmine, but I’d rather not.”
Carmine shrugged. “Blood binds both ways, Val. You to Pagliuca – but Pagliuca to you, too.”
“Enough,” Val said. “I’ll tell Nicky I don’t want business in Chicago. New York is my city. The Commission can try and branch out if they want, but I’m staying here.”
“If I know the Commission,” Carmine said, “they won’t take no for an answer.”
*
“Right now,” Danny said, “physical evidence is at at a level of zip, nada, nilch, nothing. It’s a fuckin’ hotel, that’s what it is, and we either got absolutely nothing or so much we won’t be able to make heads from tails on it. Least, that I saw.”
“Same here, too,” Aiden said. “Not to mention the fuckin’ press everywhere. You’d think someone’d killed the president, not just the CEO of some company.”
“Shaw-Littel isn’t just ‘some company’, Aiden,” Mac said patiently.
She shrugged. “Whatever. Please tell me we have suspects, because right now witnesses are looking more reliable than the evidence.”
“Have you talked to the witnesses?” Flack demanded. “Fucking rich, stuck-up, idiot – if they say anything, it’s ‘do you know who you’re talking to?’ or ‘do I need to call a lawyer?’ I hate workin’ cases with rich people. Worse than Mob cases, even.” He gave Danny an apologetic look. “Sorry, Messer.”
“I’ll take the rich freaks over the Mob anyday,” Danny said, thinking of his Uncle Val’s phone call this morning. No. No, Val, no. I’ve chosen my allegiances, and I won’t back down from them. You got that, Unc’? Won’t.
“Can’t see why,” Aiden said. “Seems like on all the Mob cases we work, all you have to do is make a couple phone calls and it’s all cleared up.”
Mac gave him a suddenly suspicious look. “Danny?”
Suddenly very tired, Danny said, “Come on, Mac, the Mob’s like high school. Anybody does anything, and somebody knows ‘bout it within the hour. All you gotta do is know who to ask.” And Constantine knows fucking everything, he didn’t say. How many eyes does Ace Aciello have? A thousand, and one. It was the new riddle on the streets, making the rounds ever since Constantine had been made the sixth Family. What the hell was the Commission thinking, huh? Val made no secret of his dislike of the Commisssion, never had. And now he was a part of it.
“Danny, gangsters don’t have a particularly high standing in court. Solid evidence is much better –”
“And how many’a those cases make it to court, huh?” Danny demanded, taking half a step back from the group. “Trust me, Mac, you may not have done the math, but outta ten Mob cases, only one’a them’s got a snowball’s chance in hell of making it anywhere near a courthouse. The Commission takes care of its own, Taylor. They don’t need the State of New York to deal out justice. Their justice is swifter and more sure. And the guilty never get away.” Even if their deaths spark wars. Nothing major, though, not lately, not since Patriso made a cursory attempt at vengeance and was promptly sat on by Pagliuca, Dellacroce, and a desperate-to-prove-its-loyalty Lancione.
Mac’s suspicious look deepened and turned strange. “The Mafia are criminals, Danny. And the justice system is the State of New York. That’s not justice. That’s vengeance. We don’t do that.”
“Fuck you, Mac,” Danny said flatly. “At least the Commission gets done.”
“Danny Messer,” Stella snapped before he could speak. “What is your problem?”
Mac found his tongue. “You are a New York City police officer,” he said, voice icy. “If I ever hear about you dealing with the Mafia again, I’ll report you to Internal Affairs.”
Danny stared at him for a long moment with his mouth half-open. “Fuck you, Mac,” he said again. “And your damn evidence. You don’t like me dealin’ with my family? Fine. I quit.” He snatched his badge from his belt and threw it down in front of Mac. “Go stick that down your craw and choke on it. I know at least one place I can get a job. Maybe I’ll even go down to Florida and see if Miami-Dade’s got an openin’ for a CSI. I heard they lost one last year. I bet Caine don’t give a fuck ‘bout his detectives’ bloodlines.” He stormed away before Mac could say anything, ducking under the crime tape and out into the sickeningly bright winter sunlight. Once there, he froze, cold horror congealing in the pit of his stomach. What the hell have I done?
*
Mac’s face had gone deadly, icy cold and distant. Stella barely recognized him for Mac Taylor, but she sure as hell knew who it was that had gifted him with those corpse’s eyes. Hamilton Taylor, you bastard, I will kill you. After I’m done with Danny. He stared down at the badge on the tiled floor. Blue and gold, glinting in the light of the crystal chandelier, and just ten minutes before it had been shining on Danny’s belt as he bitched about the lack of evidence in the case. He’d been excited about it, too, had genuinely been interested in what he’d been talking about. It was the thrill of the chase, and it was the hunt, not the capture, that brought them all to this field. He loved it. So did they all.
What the hell, Danny? she thought. She’d known relations in the Crime Lab were strained, but not that strained. Never that strained.
Mac bent down to pick up the badge. Danny’s badge. “Get out,” he said. “All of you, get out.”
“Mac, we’re in the middle of a crime scene,” Aiden said, looking faintly lost.
“Get. Out. And get all these people out of here, too. Now.”
“With pleasure,” Flack said, looking excited for the first time that day. He still looked confused, though. And betrayed.
You ain’t the only one, pal.
Stella stayed while Flack and Aiden went to shoo off all the witnesses, press, and curious onlookers. “Mac –”
He looked up at her, eyes flicking away from the badge in his hand. “You too, Stella.”
“No.” She crossed her arms.
“Stella, do I have to pull rank on you?”
“What are you going to do, fire me?” she snapped. “I think we’ve lost enough people today. Besides, where are you going to get another CSI on such short notice? That is why you hired Monroe, isn’t it? You knew someone –” Danny “– was leaving. Either you were firing them, or you were going to provoke them enough they’d walk out. You knew he’d do this.”
Mac was still looking at the badge. “Danny was the weak link,” he said. “Too close to the criminal element, and not trust-worthy –”
“Right, because he’s the one who got in bed with Val Constantine in order to capture Marco Patriso.”
Mac flinched. “Danny has a close personal relationship with a Mob boss.”
“Yeah, and Astra Pagliuca’s my sister,” Stella said. The words took her breath away. It was the first time she’d said them. “Astra Pagliuca’s my sister,” she said again, quietly, almost to herself this time. Louder, “And Nick Bonasera, a thief that did thirty years in Sing Sing and now works for Danny’s uncle, that selfsame Mob boss you just mentioned, is my father. And you don’t see me –” What? Throwing my badge in your face? Running to the Mob at every little opportunity? Shit, she doesn’t know. What were you thinking, Danny? He probably hadn’t been. There didn’t seem to be a lot of that going around the lab recently.
“Danny’s been notoriously unstable –”
“And why is that?” Stella demanded. “I work among idiots. Idiots! You are the dumbest smart people I have ever met. And if Danny doesn’t come back, I am going to kill you, Mac Taylor. Because it’s going to be all your fault if a valuable member of the NYPD Crime Lab goes over to the Mafia, and I will happily tell that to any and every member of the press who asks once this goes public.”
Mac finally looked up. “Is that a threat, Stella?”
“Damn right it is.” And what am I getting myself into now? “Are you going to fire me for it?”
“Get out of my crime scene, Stella,” Mac said.
*
Acknowledgements: "How many eyes does Ace Aciello have? A thousand and one." comes from George R.R. Martin's short story The Sworn Sword, in the anthology Legends II.
Feedback much appreciated.
Val Constantine stepped out of his townhouse, blinking away the bright glare of sunlight on snow that hadn’t yet been completely beaten away. Mostly gone, but not quite; the sidewalks were still completely covered. Behind him, Carmine swung the door shut and locked it, then checked the gun at the small of his back, fingers sliding around on the butt before he tugged his jacket back into place. “You sure you want to do this, Val?”
Val stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t have a choice, do I? If the Commission wants Danny to go to Chicago, they won’t take no for an answer.”
“And what do you expect Danny to say, huh? I don’t think the kid’s going to say anything other than what he’s been saying for the past twenty years.” Carmine lifted his face up towards the cloudy sky. “He’s not going to change his mind, Val.”
“He’s going to have to,” Val said stubbornly. They set off at a brisk pace down the street. “If he doesn’t, the Commission will appoint an heir. I don’t want the Constantine Family to end up in the Commission’s pocket. Not now – not after I’m dead – not ever.”
“You do realize that they’ll probably name me, right? I am your underboss.”
“And if this was any other Family, I’d be delighted and honored to name you as my heir. But this is the Constantine Family –”
“And blood is thicker than water or wine,” Carmine said dryly. “I know, Val. I’ve only been part of the Constantine Family for the past thirty years. It’s because I’m from a Commission Family, isn’t it?”
“I trust you with my Family,” Val said. “I’ve never thought Danny would take my place. I’d hoped he could rule in name and nothing more. Before, it might have been possible.”
“But we’re part of the Commission now, and the Commission likes to have its hand in everything. Danny’d have to be an active member, not a passive leader. And there’s no way in hell he’d go for that.”
“No,” Val said. “I have to tallk with him. Nicky wants him to show his loyalty to the Commission – he doesn’t like it that Danny’s never come to one meeting, or that he’s never seen Danny or heard of him being involved in any Constantine business. He knows about Tanglewood, and that Danny’s a cop, but –”
“Words are one thing, deeds are another,” Carmine said. “And this Chicago mess –”
“Damn the Chicago PD anyway,” Val said. “And damn Nicky Pagliuca. He wants Constantine to take point on this – it’s not just Danny, it’s me too. I don’t think he’s sure about our loyalty.”
“Hell, would you be, Val, if you were in his place? You’ve been pretty damn outspoken about your dislike of the Commission, and then you go and get yourself made? That’s gotta raise a few eyebrows. Saved Nicky’s life, though, and his Family.”
“And that’s the only reason he said yes. Blue Eyes was planning something and he knew it, just like he knew he’d die the moment he put Blue Eyes’ name in as don. And there’s no way he could have said no, after –”
“No matter how much you wanted him to, huh?”
Val sighed. “The Commission has never liked me, Carmine.”
“Yeah, well, the Commission’s not happy you’ve got the son of the Dellacroce underboss as your underboss. They’d like to think they can control you through me, but that’d be a no. And if you think they don’t like you, you should see the way they look at me. They’ve never liked traitors.”
“You’re no traitor,” Val said.
“D’Alessandro’s sworn to Dellacroce, and you know it.”
“Who doesn’t?” He sighed. “Nicky –”
“It true he’s trying to marry his daughter to you?”
“Unfortunately. He’s trying to bind us to the Commission with blood – the traditional way.”
“Astra must be real happy about that.”
“Astra has been protesting at the top of her lungs and threatening to elope with Ace. Which would bind us to Pagliuca, but not the way Nicky wants. Barring me, he’d like Danny.”
Carmine swung around to stare at him, wide-eyed. “No fucking way, Val. He’s trying to marry Astra to Danny? Now there’s a match made in hell. Astra’d eat Danny alive.”
“Danny doesn’t know about it, and he’s not going to.”
“Hell, maybe you should go for it,” he said thoughtfully. “It’s not a bad match – actually, it’s a pretty damn good one. And it’s not like you’d be bound to the Commission itself, just Pagliuca, and they already owe you a couple debts. Marriage binds –”
“I’d hate to see Danny’s reaction to the suggestion,” Val said dryly. “As he’s fond of reminding me, he does not, in fact, consider himself part of the Constantine Family, all evidence to the contrary aside.”
“That’s nothing new, he’s been saying it for years.”
“Also, my mother was a Pagliuca. That verges disturbingly close to incest.”
“Josephina Pagliuca was only a cousin to Nicky. That’d make you and Astra, what, second, third cousins? Something like that for Danny, too, right? That’s legal, and pretty mild by Commission standards.”
“Incest,” Val said again, unhappily. “No offense to your bloodline meant, Carmine, but I’d rather not.”
Carmine shrugged. “Blood binds both ways, Val. You to Pagliuca – but Pagliuca to you, too.”
“Enough,” Val said. “I’ll tell Nicky I don’t want business in Chicago. New York is my city. The Commission can try and branch out if they want, but I’m staying here.”
“If I know the Commission,” Carmine said, “they won’t take no for an answer.”
*
“Right now,” Danny said, “physical evidence is at at a level of zip, nada, nilch, nothing. It’s a fuckin’ hotel, that’s what it is, and we either got absolutely nothing or so much we won’t be able to make heads from tails on it. Least, that I saw.”
“Same here, too,” Aiden said. “Not to mention the fuckin’ press everywhere. You’d think someone’d killed the president, not just the CEO of some company.”
“Shaw-Littel isn’t just ‘some company’, Aiden,” Mac said patiently.
She shrugged. “Whatever. Please tell me we have suspects, because right now witnesses are looking more reliable than the evidence.”
“Have you talked to the witnesses?” Flack demanded. “Fucking rich, stuck-up, idiot – if they say anything, it’s ‘do you know who you’re talking to?’ or ‘do I need to call a lawyer?’ I hate workin’ cases with rich people. Worse than Mob cases, even.” He gave Danny an apologetic look. “Sorry, Messer.”
“I’ll take the rich freaks over the Mob anyday,” Danny said, thinking of his Uncle Val’s phone call this morning. No. No, Val, no. I’ve chosen my allegiances, and I won’t back down from them. You got that, Unc’? Won’t.
“Can’t see why,” Aiden said. “Seems like on all the Mob cases we work, all you have to do is make a couple phone calls and it’s all cleared up.”
Mac gave him a suddenly suspicious look. “Danny?”
Suddenly very tired, Danny said, “Come on, Mac, the Mob’s like high school. Anybody does anything, and somebody knows ‘bout it within the hour. All you gotta do is know who to ask.” And Constantine knows fucking everything, he didn’t say. How many eyes does Ace Aciello have? A thousand, and one. It was the new riddle on the streets, making the rounds ever since Constantine had been made the sixth Family. What the hell was the Commission thinking, huh? Val made no secret of his dislike of the Commisssion, never had. And now he was a part of it.
“Danny, gangsters don’t have a particularly high standing in court. Solid evidence is much better –”
“And how many’a those cases make it to court, huh?” Danny demanded, taking half a step back from the group. “Trust me, Mac, you may not have done the math, but outta ten Mob cases, only one’a them’s got a snowball’s chance in hell of making it anywhere near a courthouse. The Commission takes care of its own, Taylor. They don’t need the State of New York to deal out justice. Their justice is swifter and more sure. And the guilty never get away.” Even if their deaths spark wars. Nothing major, though, not lately, not since Patriso made a cursory attempt at vengeance and was promptly sat on by Pagliuca, Dellacroce, and a desperate-to-prove-its-loyalty Lancione.
Mac’s suspicious look deepened and turned strange. “The Mafia are criminals, Danny. And the justice system is the State of New York. That’s not justice. That’s vengeance. We don’t do that.”
“Fuck you, Mac,” Danny said flatly. “At least the Commission gets done.”
“Danny Messer,” Stella snapped before he could speak. “What is your problem?”
Mac found his tongue. “You are a New York City police officer,” he said, voice icy. “If I ever hear about you dealing with the Mafia again, I’ll report you to Internal Affairs.”
Danny stared at him for a long moment with his mouth half-open. “Fuck you, Mac,” he said again. “And your damn evidence. You don’t like me dealin’ with my family? Fine. I quit.” He snatched his badge from his belt and threw it down in front of Mac. “Go stick that down your craw and choke on it. I know at least one place I can get a job. Maybe I’ll even go down to Florida and see if Miami-Dade’s got an openin’ for a CSI. I heard they lost one last year. I bet Caine don’t give a fuck ‘bout his detectives’ bloodlines.” He stormed away before Mac could say anything, ducking under the crime tape and out into the sickeningly bright winter sunlight. Once there, he froze, cold horror congealing in the pit of his stomach. What the hell have I done?
*
Mac’s face had gone deadly, icy cold and distant. Stella barely recognized him for Mac Taylor, but she sure as hell knew who it was that had gifted him with those corpse’s eyes. Hamilton Taylor, you bastard, I will kill you. After I’m done with Danny. He stared down at the badge on the tiled floor. Blue and gold, glinting in the light of the crystal chandelier, and just ten minutes before it had been shining on Danny’s belt as he bitched about the lack of evidence in the case. He’d been excited about it, too, had genuinely been interested in what he’d been talking about. It was the thrill of the chase, and it was the hunt, not the capture, that brought them all to this field. He loved it. So did they all.
What the hell, Danny? she thought. She’d known relations in the Crime Lab were strained, but not that strained. Never that strained.
Mac bent down to pick up the badge. Danny’s badge. “Get out,” he said. “All of you, get out.”
“Mac, we’re in the middle of a crime scene,” Aiden said, looking faintly lost.
“Get. Out. And get all these people out of here, too. Now.”
“With pleasure,” Flack said, looking excited for the first time that day. He still looked confused, though. And betrayed.
You ain’t the only one, pal.
Stella stayed while Flack and Aiden went to shoo off all the witnesses, press, and curious onlookers. “Mac –”
He looked up at her, eyes flicking away from the badge in his hand. “You too, Stella.”
“No.” She crossed her arms.
“Stella, do I have to pull rank on you?”
“What are you going to do, fire me?” she snapped. “I think we’ve lost enough people today. Besides, where are you going to get another CSI on such short notice? That is why you hired Monroe, isn’t it? You knew someone –” Danny “– was leaving. Either you were firing them, or you were going to provoke them enough they’d walk out. You knew he’d do this.”
Mac was still looking at the badge. “Danny was the weak link,” he said. “Too close to the criminal element, and not trust-worthy –”
“Right, because he’s the one who got in bed with Val Constantine in order to capture Marco Patriso.”
Mac flinched. “Danny has a close personal relationship with a Mob boss.”
“Yeah, and Astra Pagliuca’s my sister,” Stella said. The words took her breath away. It was the first time she’d said them. “Astra Pagliuca’s my sister,” she said again, quietly, almost to herself this time. Louder, “And Nick Bonasera, a thief that did thirty years in Sing Sing and now works for Danny’s uncle, that selfsame Mob boss you just mentioned, is my father. And you don’t see me –” What? Throwing my badge in your face? Running to the Mob at every little opportunity? Shit, she doesn’t know. What were you thinking, Danny? He probably hadn’t been. There didn’t seem to be a lot of that going around the lab recently.
“Danny’s been notoriously unstable –”
“And why is that?” Stella demanded. “I work among idiots. Idiots! You are the dumbest smart people I have ever met. And if Danny doesn’t come back, I am going to kill you, Mac Taylor. Because it’s going to be all your fault if a valuable member of the NYPD Crime Lab goes over to the Mafia, and I will happily tell that to any and every member of the press who asks once this goes public.”
Mac finally looked up. “Is that a threat, Stella?”
“Damn right it is.” And what am I getting myself into now? “Are you going to fire me for it?”
“Get out of my crime scene, Stella,” Mac said.
*
Acknowledgements: "How many eyes does Ace Aciello have? A thousand and one." comes from George R.R. Martin's short story The Sworn Sword, in the anthology Legends II.
Feedback much appreciated.