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Authors: Thomas Laird

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BOOK: Cutter
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Sh
e
continue
s
t
o
screa
m,
bu
t
the
n
sh
e
stop
s
an
d
begin
s
t
o
whimpe
r
.

‘Wh
y?
Wh
y
m
e?

I
brin
g
th
e
lanter
n
ou
t
fro
m
th
e
trun
k
o
f
th
e
ca
r
an
d
I
plac
e
i
t
a
fe
w
fee
t
awa
y
fro
m
he
r
sprawle
d-
ou
t
bod
y.
Sh
e
i
s
s
o
beautifu
l,
s
o
complet
e.
Sh
e
remind
s
m
e
s
o
muc
h
o
f
th
e
othe
r.
Sam
e
ag
e,
sam
e
pur
e
whit
e
bod
y

1
hav
e
t
o
hav
e
he
r
agai
n,
s
o
I
tak
e
dow
n
m
y
pant
s
an
d
positio
n
mysel
f
betwee
n
he
r
sprea
d
leg
s
.

‘Wh
y?
Yo
u
ca
n
hav
e
m
e
a
s
muc
h
a
s
yo
u
wan
t,
bu
t
don’
t
—’

I
hi
t
he
r
t
o
quie
t
he
r.
Bu
t
I
don’
t
wan
t
he
r
knocke
d
ou
t.
Unti
l
I star
t
removin
g
thing
s,
there’
s
n
o
reaso
n
wh
y
sh
e
can’
t
enjo
y
th
e
whol
e
spectacl
e
.

I
hea
r
mysel
f
gruntin
g
lik
e
som
e
ma
d
anima
l
an
d
i
t
furthe
r
incense
s
m
e.
Sh
e
deserve
s
thi
s.
Thi
s
i
s
justic
e.
She’
s
ha
d
i
t
comin
g
fo
r
al
l
thi
s
tim
e
an
d
no
w
...

I’
m
spen
t.
Bu
t
I
haven’
t
use
d
a
condo
m.
I’l
l
hav
e
t
o
clea
n
he
r
thoroughl
y
whe
n
it’
s
don
e.
Can’
t
hav
e
DN
A
catchin
g
u
p
wit
h
m
e
.

‘Pleas
e
..
.
Wh
y?’
sh
e
sob
s
.

I
stan
d
ove
r
he
r.
The
n
I
knee
l
nex
t
t
o
he
r,
th
e
knif
e
agai
n
i
n
m
y
han
d.
Sh
e
watche
s
th
e
ti
p
o
f
th
e
blad
e
a
s
i
t
enter
s
beneat
h
he
r
breast
s
an
d
th
e
soun
d
sh
e
make
s
shatter
s
th
e
stillnes
s
tha
t
ha
d
onl
y
recentl
y
envelope
d
u
s.
She’
s
stil
l
shriekin
g
afte
r
th
e
firs
t
cu
t
.

I
sto
p
an
d
loo
k
a
t
th
e
ful
l
moo
n
abov
e
m
e.
I
t
light
s
m
y
wa
y,
an
d
I
begi
n
agai
n
.

 

 

Chapter Twenty-One

 

‘Billy? Where are you? What the hell time is it?’

‘You got to get here now, coz.’

I looked at the clock. It was 4.48 a.m.

He told me the address. I had no choice because I’d told him I’d look after him. So I hung up after I told him I was on my way. Billy was spooked. Big time. He must have found out who it was who’d tried to waste him with the two shots in the back in that alley where the paramedics scooped him off the blacktop.

I walked into my mother’s bedroom. It used to be our old guestroom. I gently shook her shoulder.

‘I got to go to work, Ma. I’m sorry to wake you up.’

‘I ... I thought it was your day off.’

‘Not anymore. Something came up.’

She groaned. She knew something always came up with my work.

I kissed her and I went back into my room and finished dressing. I should have called Doc, but I was not going to. It was his day off too, and this was my cousin. And Jack was back for another ovemighter at the college where Diane Swanson taught post-adolescents about the history of rocks. It appeared Diane was getting beyond just needing Jack as a sympathetic ear. Wendkos was only recently divorced, so I hoped this was no rebound number for him. 

But the way those two had looked at each other when they first met ... Who could tell? Who the hell knew?

I strapped on the Nine and I slapped the .44 against my left leg. I carried that switchblade in my left pocket, just in case of an emergency.

I was out the door and into our Voyager van. I was not used to driving the Plymouth to work, but this really wasn’t in the line of duty. It was family, whether I liked it or not. Even if I had given my word to a semi-thug like my cousin Billy, it was still my word.

He was holed up somewhere on the far North Side. It was damn’ near Wisconsin. The driving was fast because of the early hour. It also felt eerie to be on the road before the sun was up. I worked a lot of shifts in the dark, but I didn’t work too often by myself at this time of day. It made me rethink not calling one or both of my partners for backup.

It wasn’t very likely that this was an ambush — with someone holding a gun to Billy’s head in order to lure me out. The Outfit was not big on shooting coppers. They would rather not have the heat. They were not as open and blatant about what they were willing to do in public. And since I was not on the payroll, they had no beef with me.

It took forty-five minutes to get to his location, just north of Evanston. He was holed up in some condo in a ver
y
ricc
i
— rich — part of town. Billy might have been soft in the noggin, but he had expensive tastes.

I pulled the van to the curb and got out. It was still a while until dawn. I checked the slip of paper with Billy’s address, and this was indeed the place. It was an old, wealthy neighborhood with trees and low-slung branches that gave you an idea of how shady and comfortable it must have been here in the warmer months of the year.

I punched the buzzer at Billy’s front gate. His voice came over the intercom.

‘Yeah?’

‘It’s the fuckin’ milkman. Open up. It’s cold out here.’ 

He let me in, an electric buzz signalling the lock’s release.

I walked up to the top of the steps where his front door was, and he opened up for me.

‘It’s early, cousin,’ I warned him.

‘It could be later than I think.’

‘So you got a scent?’

‘Yeah. I got a real bad scent ... Sit down, Jimmy.’

He had a dim-wattage bulb in a lamp on the table next to his front window, but I could still make out that he had lines of sleeplessness on his Sicilian face.

‘So who’s the big dog that wants to disappear you?’

‘You want some coffee, Jimmy P?’

‘I wanted coffee, I’d be at the fucking White Castle. Come on. Tell me what’s scaring the shit out of you.’

‘He’s a made guy, coz. And he got permission to pop me.’

‘Who is this guy?’

‘Jackie Morocco.’

‘What’s his real name, Billy?’

‘John Fortuna.’

The light went on inside me when I heard the actual surname. Fortuna was one of the Young Turks who took over when we sent Danny Ciccio to prison on a multiple murder rap that stuck.

‘What’s Fortuna got to do with The Farmer?’

‘I’m gonna get wasted no matter what I do.’

‘Then come on and help yourself. I told you what you have to do to survive, cousin. You tell me what’s going on, I take these bad nasties out of the picture. Everybody gets happy if you do the right thing.’

He watched me to see if I was setting him up.

‘You wired, Jimmy?’

‘You want me to drop my pants?’

‘You wouldn’t’ve had time to wire up, would you?’

‘Quit wasting our time. Tell me.’

He looked at his own outstretched fingertips.

‘Jackie Morocco — Fortuna — has a guy in his pocket. This guy was connected to Jackie because of some bitch, Morocco’s little sister. The little sister was supposed to be worse than her brother. She’s a killer cunt, I hear. She’d be a made man if she had balls. You know what I’m sayin’? She’s a vicious little shit. Into all kinda kinky crap. Sex, I mean. And she’s had a few physical-like encounters with a few other women, I hear. I don’t mean she’s queer. I mean she likes to hurt people. You know? She was up in Elgin when she was a teenager. They kept it real hush-hush, the family did. Very private matter, but I don’t know all the particulars ... Well, she comes into contact with this outside guy and falls for him big-time. But the guy’s a bigger fuckup than she is.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘Mary Margaret Fortuna ... But she got married when she was just outta high school, and I think she goes by her married name. I don’t know the new name, but I’ll try to find out what it was. She went by something other than her given names, too. Bitch was a whacker. Hated her family. Hated Jackie Morocco. The word was that her bro was fuckin’ his little sis all while they was growin’ up under one roof. But it’s weird. She never called the cops on him. Although maybe that’s the Sicilian in her. She never stuck him in the back with an ice pick, which like I say she’s very capable of doin’ ... She’s just a weird female. All messed up in the head. You know what I’m sayin’?’

‘So how does she connect with The Farmer?’

Billy chewed off a fingernail and spat it on the lush carpet.

‘She meets this geek right after she gets divorced. He goes off to that fuckin’ Gulf War bullshit and he comes home all whacked in the skull. The guy had been in medical school or something and he was a medic over in the Gulf, too. You wouldn’t think a guy like that would become a blade man, would you, coz?’

‘You don’t know his name?’

‘No. I was lucky to make the connection with Fortuna’s goofy fuckin’ sister. Lotta guys don’ wanna talk to me after I got shot. They can smell the wrong in the air. They know Jackie Morocco’s got a beef with me. They know there’s bad blood between my family because of the way Fortuna took over when Danny Cheech went away.’

‘So what’s the hook Jackie’s got into The Farmer?’

Billy bit off the fingernail on a new finger and spat it out on the same portion of carpet. There were faint rays of sunlight coming through his sheer curtains now.

‘This war vet knocks Mary Margaret up.’

‘He doesn’t do the right thing and marry her.’

‘That ain’t it, Jimmy.’

‘Then what?’

‘The guy does an abortion on her. She damn’ near bleeds to death. But she don’t call out the dogs on the guy who butchered her. She begs for his life. It becomes a matter of honor for her bro, Jackie. So he puts the knifeman to work. He gives him a choice. Come up with fresh body parts that Jackie sells overseas, or else Jackie takes one of his lungs, then a kidney ... You get the picture? He takes a week to kill the motherfucker. See, The Farmer’s an amateur when it comes to cutting, compared to his almost-brother-in-law ... But the strange thing was that this lover of Little Sister doesn’t try to bolt from the business. Someone offered you a job like that you’d run for fuckin’ cover, wouldn’t you? This fucker embraces Jackie Morocco and the whole deal like it’s the sweetest proposition he ever heard. It even scares Fortuna, I hear. He never figured the kinda monster he was puttin’ into motion. You know what I mean?’

‘Where do I find Fortuna?’

‘Good luck. He’s a phantom, Jimmy. He’s a capo, but he’s damn’ near invisible. I was you, I’d try the Feds. They always know where everybody’s perched.’

‘Why’s he so ‘invisible’?’

‘The Feds been after him for a long time. Fortuna doesn’t do hits. Hasn’t since he got made. He gets other guys to do his dirty work. Lots of guys think he’s a fuckin’ clone of Old Man Daley. You know, the old mayor of the city. He keeps his own hands clean. He never leaves a connection to anything he ordered. Shit, the guy’s got an education. Went to the state college. You know, the big one down south in Illinois. He’s no jamolk. He’s mean as hell, but he’s not even a little stupid. That’s why I say you’d better check with the FBI. They got so much electricity hooked up to us, I get a hard-on takin’ a piss wherever I go.’

‘So I find Fortuna, I can find the guy with the blade.’

‘That’s why I called you up here, Jimmy P. You’re all I got. I don’t trust the Feds. They wanna put me in a hole, just like the hole Danny’s in at Jolly J.’

‘Jolly J’ referred to Joliet Prison. That was where his big-dog cousin was residing for concurrent life sentences.

‘You settled in here?’ I asked.

‘I got a few places to roost. I’m gonna move around every so often.’

‘You fixed for funds?’

‘I’m all right, Jimmy P. Are you offerin’ financial fuckin’ aid to me?’

‘If you need a coupla bucks, yeah. Sure.’

‘Nah, I’m okay. But I appreciate it. Really ... You think you can bust Jackie Morocco?’

‘I want the guy he’s hiring out to work the body shop.’

‘Body shop. Yeah, I read that in the papers. “Body shop.” You don’t take Morocco down with him, and you’ll find little pieces of me all over one of my safe houses. You gotta take Fortuna too, Jimmy, or I’m dead.’

I sat back against his thick, comfortable chair.

‘The FBI’ll want in on this, like you said. Doc and I don’t much like working with them, but if that’s what it takes then I’ll do it. This guy’s killed enough women.’

‘He likes the work, Jimmy. And look out for that crazy hoo that lives with him. Like I said, she might be worse than her old man. They both got that fuckin’ foamin’- mouth disease. Whattayacallit?’

‘Hydrophobia ... I’ll let you know. You better stay off the phone here. Use a payphone. Move around, like you said. I can give you twenty-four-hour help, if you want.’

‘Yeah. Put a cop at my door, and then you can put a bulls-eye right over my ass while you’re at it. No, thanks, Jimmy. I’ll shoot the moon on my own.’

‘It’s up to you. There’s the witness protection program, too.’

‘I’d rather be fuckin’ dead. I want to go back to an occasional boost, coz.’

‘I really don’t want to know about it, Billy.’

‘Hey! Oh! If I can’t go back to my old life, then fuck it. I really mean it. I’d rather be a floater in the fuckin’ Chicago River in all that green water on St Patty’s day.’

I looked him in the eyes and I saw it was not bravado or beer talking. He was sincere. He didn’t know any other way to live. There was nowhere for him to retreat.

I slapped his arm as I got up.

‘Remember. Use a payphone, and call me at work. Fortuna might know we’re family and he might bug my home phone. Don’t call any of your old crew. You gotta have a woman, pick one up off the street, but do it at random. Don’t hit on anyone you know ... Don’t smile, Billy. You know how serious this shit is.’

He smiled in spite of me and came over to me and embraced me.

‘Bloo
d
i
s
thicker than fuckin H2O, ain’t it?’

I clasped his hands once more, and then I got out.

*

Jackie Morocco. John Fortuna. The elusive Outfit capo. He was looking to be the Don when the middle-aged current chief went down.

Terry Morrissey was the local special agent who’d been assigned to help us with Morocco and The Farmer and this supposedly murderous female partner the cutter had living with him.

‘He stays on the periphery. Your cousin’s right. We’ve got no photographs of him in the last three years. He’s like a vampire. Supposedly only comes out at night.’

Terry was sitting with Doc and Jack and me in my small cubicle downtown on the Homicide floor.

I explained to him that we had The Farmer narrowed down to three choices, but he suggested, as Doc did, that we use the FBI’s profiler here in the city. So he made an appointment for us for this same afternoon. He called the agent from my desk.

When Morrissey left, Doc rolled his eyes, but Jack remained seated without any visible response to our new ‘partnership’.

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