Reverse Metamorphosis book one of the Irrevocable Change trilogy (16 page)

“Who else was there?”

“When I got there I talked to John the
bartender and a couple of guys I had seen there before, but I don’t
know their names.”

Coleman frowned and asked, “I want you to
think about this real carefully before you answer. How long were
you there and who else was there before you left?”

“About mid evening I had too much to drink so
I went upstairs to a room to lie down and went to sleep. I got up
around midnight, went down the back stairway, and drove to Tony’s
house and went to bed. I don’t remember seeing anybody when I left;
I was still pretty well shot.”

“Warren, do you have any more questions for
Mr. Albrecht? If not, I’m done and he can go.” Coleman rose from
the table.

“The only question I’ve got is how Mr.
Albrecht hung around the Giliano house and bar for two weeks, and
visited Tony Giliano every day in the hospital and doesn’t know a
damned thing about plans to kill twenty people?”

Clay shrugged and said pointedly to Detective
Warren, “I don’t know a thing about any plans to kill anyone. Do
you have evidence linking me or the Gilianos to those murders?”

“No, we don’t have evidence pointing to you
or Tony Giliano. But I can't believe complete strangers retaliated
in his behalf after he was attacked, can you?”

Coleman stepped over to stand in front of
Warren. “Knock it off Roger, Mr. Albrecht volunteered to come down
and tell us what he knows.” Turning to Clay he said, “You’re free
to leave Mr. Albrecht."

After Clay left the room Coleman confronted
his partner, “I don’t think the kid knows anything about this.”

Warren was silently fuming, “He was too calm
and prepared to be as innocent as you think he is. People without a
record of previous arrest are always nervous and talkative when
they’re interviewed. He's too cool, he’s knows what went down.”

“You and I know what happened and why, and
the kid and most of Chicago does too. If we come up with something
leading back to him we’ll call him back, otherwise we leave him
alone.”

Two weeks later Clay stopped at the bar to
visit. It was Tony’s second day back at work and he was at the
round table. The wheel chair he was in looked like it was a size
too small under his bulk. A walker had been placed against the wall
where he could get to it easily.

As Mickey moved to the beer taps to draw a
draft beer, Clay pulled change from his pocket to pay for the beer,
but Mickey said with a knowing wink “Put it away. The boss says
your money’s no good here. Anything you want is on the house;
forever.”

Mickey had been the day bartender for years
and was considered a fixture in the bar. This was a draft beer and
straight whiskey type place; even a woman would get laughed at for
ordering a “Pink Slipper”, a “Manhattan” or any of the other fancy
mixed drinks. Mickey would have his usual “chew” in his cheeks; a
large plug of “Redman” tobacco in the right side and a whole pack
of “Spearmint” chewing gum in the left cheek. And never was the man
seen to spit! He looked like a toad with those huge cheeks puffed
out both sides of his face. Mickey had been a boxer in his youth,
but now was over weight and diabetic. Still, when there was trouble
he could be counted on to rush to the appropriate area of the bar
and grab the Louisville Slugger, the .38 caliber automatic or the
12 gauge shotgun, depending on what level of trouble needed to be
dealt with.

Tony looked up from the paper he was reading,
stuck out his right hand in greeting to Clay and said, “While I was
laying in the hospital I got to thinking. What have I always had a
yearning to do and haven’t done yet. So, ole Tony’s going to buy
himself a boat. Next summer we’re going boating.”

“What kind of boat Tony; a fishing boat,
cabin cruiser, or a real yacht?”

“A yacht! A big white fucking yacht. I could
have been dead instead of just shot up a little. And what the hell
good would all the money I have done me. I’d be lying in the ground
and some other fucker would be after my money; and my old ladies
ass. So, from now on, if there’s something I want to do and I have
the money, I’m going to do it. And right now I want a big boat so
I’m going to get one, just as soon as I get out of this damn wheel
chair and get on my legs again.”

Clay then extended his right hand to Tony and
while both shook hands again said, “Congratulation Tony, and good
luck on finding a boat, Skipper.” He followed up with, “Mickey told
me what you said about my paying. Thanks.” He then raised his beer
glass and gave Tony a salutation.

Tony motioned for Clay to lean closer and
whispered, “Those two cops who talked to you, Coleman and Warren.
Coleman’s one of mine, but Warren is going to be a pain in the ass
when he gets more seniority on the force. Coleman say’s Warren
didn’t like you, but he was able to get you deleted from the
ongoing investigation. Let me know if you get any trouble from
Warren and I’ll put a damper on him.”

Clay continued to make regular appearances at
the union hall the rest of the year and on into the new year. He
had conserved his funds and supplemented his weekly expenses by
taking any work he could find, but it wasn’t enough to keep ahead
of the expenditures. He had several things going and had
unexpectedly secured a kitchen remodeling job which he finished
early one Friday afternoon. After stopping for a few beers and
shooting the bull with Mickey he headed home before supper.

When Clay arrived home he saw Tom and Maria’s
pickup truck in the drive way. Then he noticed Walter Jr.’s
Oldsmobile sedan. Somebody in the family must be having a birthday,
or something bad happened. Then it hit him. His birthday, February
18, was in two days. It was HIS birthday party! It was the only
time everyone in the family got together, other than for
Thanksgiving and Christmas, or a funeral.

The high point of all this was his little
buddy, Tommy, would be staying for the weekend. Clay and Tommy had
developed a special relationship early in Tommy’s infancy. Clay
didn’t fully understand it, but placed a high value on preserving
it. One night when Tommy was nine months old he was having a bad
time, cranky and irritable, wouldn’t go to sleep; nothing Maria or
Tom did pleased him. Clay had volunteered to take him from Maria,
and walked around the house holding him while softly humming a
ballad until he calmed down. Everyone was amazed at how quickly the
situation was altered, and remarked Clay would be called upon
frequently to baby sit in the future. From there on there was a
special bond between them. They had some inner connection drawing
them together anytime there was an opportunity.

As Clay entered the back door into the
kitchen he was greeted with loud “Happy Birthday’s” from Margaret,
Maria, Lizzy and Hazel. Both of Maria’s kids came running into the
kitchen from the living room, with Tom Jr. shouting “Uncle Clay’s
here”! While he was trying to wipe his shoes on the throw rug at
the back door and take off his gloves and coat, both children were
pulling at him wanting attention. The coat and gloves were tossed
in the corner, and then little two year old Maria and the rowdy
four year old Tom Jr. were scooped up one in each arm for hugs and
kiss’s. As Clay made his way through the kitchen he received
greetings and kisses from each of the women, who were frying
chicken and preparing the rest of the birthday meal. Entering the
living room he was greeted with handshakes or waves, and birthday
greetings from each of the men seated there. After getting settled
into an overstuffed chair in the conversation circle, Clay began to
take part in the conversation while paying attention to both of the
small children. Tom Sr. was talking about the large amount of snow
the eastern area of Wisconsin had received, and the impact it was
having on livestock.

Clay listened to the three men talk while
tickling both small children until they squealed like little pigs.
Tom spoke passionately about his work with animals, and reflected
on how he wished city people had the same respect for the animals
they owned as farmers had for their livestock. Tom Sr. was twenty
eight years old; three years older than Maria. He had graduated
from college with high honors in the practice of veterinary
medicine and had established his practice outside his home town. He
and Maria had met years ago when she and Clay would visit Walter’s
relatives in Wisconsin to spend a week or two in the summer on the
farm. As they had grown older Clay had stopped going, but his
sister had spent extended periods there, because of the developing
relationship with Tom.

Little Maria grew tired of the tickling game,
crawled down from Clay’s lap and wandered out to the kitchen with
the women. Tommy quieted down, squirmed around a few times to get
settled in comfortably while cradled in his uncle’s arm, and began
to doze off. His eyes would slowly close, then he would fight off
sleep long enough to open the lids half way, only to have the
weight of sleepiness draw them down again, until finally they were
so heavy they stayed shut and his breathing slowed for a deep
sleep. Clay liked the weight and the warmth of the youngster close
to him.

Clay listened as Walter Jr. directed the
conversation toward him. “Dad say’s you haven’t been having any
luck getting back to work since taking time off during the summer.
Do you think things will open up later in the spring?”

“I’m sure it will. There are quite a few big
commercial and industrial jobs scheduled to kick off this
year.”

“Well, when you do go back you’ll have to be
more loyal to your job and not be quitting on a whim. Good jobs are
hard to come by these days and you don’t want to mess up your
future. And while we’re on the subject, associating with those
Gilianos is going to get you in even more trouble; I can see by the
set of your chin you don’t like talking about this, but I’m your
brother and I’m concerned. I don’t want to see you in trouble, or
worse.”

“Walter, I understand your concern, but I
have a life to live the same as you do, and I’ll make the decisions
about what I do and who I do it with, the same as I give you your
right.”

“Well little brother, I know Mom and Dad are
both concerned, as am I, and we just don’t want to see you get
caught up in big trouble....”

“Walter, I know how you and Mom and Dad feel,
but frankly it’s none of your business. I’ve not ever told you who
to associate with or who to have for clients in your business.
You’re out of line bringing it up, especially at a family function.
And don’t call me “little brother” as if you’re so much older and
wiser.”

“But you…” Walter tried to continue the
conversation.

“Can it Walter. End of discussion. Got
it?"

Clay and Walter both tried to speak at the
same time until they were stopped.

“Ha! Enough, you two! Knock it off already.
We’re here to celebrate a birthday,” their father cut in calmly but
with understated authority.

Clay and Walter Jr. exchanged sheepish looks
and both realized the discussion had gone too far. Clay heard Tom
change the subject as he was leaving the living room to take Tommy
to his father’s bedroom where he laid the sleeping boy on the
double bed and pulled the cover over him. When he returned, the men
were standing and heading toward the kitchen for supper.

The men congratulated the women on the superb
meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes and milk gravy, corn, green
beans and home made biscuits. The biscuits were one of Maria’s
specialties and all of the men looked forward to a meal where they
were included. Everyone ate too much and was too full for desert,
so Margaret suggested the women wash the dishes and they would
serve desert later after Clay opened his birthday presents.

After leaving the table Clay headed for the
back door to step outside and have a cigarette. Before he could
close the door Tom slipped out with him. In the below freezing
temperature both knew their smoking would be very quick. Staying
close beside the house and out of the cold breeze, Tom struck a
wood match to light his Camel and then extended his cupped hands
over to Clay.

“I know little Walt pissed you off before
supper; he has a way of turning everyone off. No finesse there; but
he does mean well. I don’t want to do the same thing, but the
family members, including me and Maria are hoping you don’t get in
serious trouble by hanging out with some of the people you have as
friends. End of lecture and no discussion required.” As Tom took
another drag from his cigarette, Clay smiled, “Thanks Tom; I will
be careful.” Both flipped their butts onto the driveway, shook
hands, and returned to the house.

Lizzy was waiting for them to return and
coaxed him into sitting in on a pinochle game just getting
organized in the living room. She took his arm and escorted him
there and then watched as the game heated up, cheering for he and
his partner Walter Sr. to win.

I
t was the second
week of March and Clay was still out of work. He had checked in at
the labor hall weekly for the past six months and had watched as
some of the laziest laggards on the unions membership roles were
put on jobs; while he was passed over time after time. The B.A. was
out to teach him, and through his example, all other members a
lesson. When you’re assigned to a job you stay on it to the end; or
until the union tells you to move if you want steady work.

During the six month period of unemployment
he had spent some of his savings and was becoming aggravated at not
advancing financially. He had made some side money buying used
items at yard sales and selling them to antique shops and second
hand stores. He had also started hanging out at the bar more
frequently. One day while they were upstairs talking Tony said, “I
got a call this morning from a fella in Memphis who wants a hitter
to take somebody out. I told him I don’t have anybody in the highly
skilled professional league so he’ll have to keep looking. But
listen to this. He said some guy he never saw before walked into
his place, demanded to talk to him, and then threw down an envelope
with twelve thousand dollars cash onto his desk. The guy said he
didn’t know how or where to hire a killer but he needed one. Seems
some pervert killed his young boy twelve years ago. The pervert got
caught and did time. But, a year ago he got released and right away
killed another young kid. Then some slick lawyer got him off on a
technicality and he’s running around the streets again. So then,
the caller say’s he’ll throw in another three grand to get this
pedophile taken out, cause he don’t like those kid killing perverts
either.”