Treasured Mafia Part One: Regaining Justice

By Steve Dillard

Forget everything you know about other mafia stories; this is a brand new take. Read here about families and children, buried treasure, farms and the homeless, a group of victims who assist other victims while setting up the employees of the mafia bosses who oppress them, slowly reducing the number of oppressors as time goes by,

• Language: English
• Publisher: Steve Dillard
• Release date: Sep 22, 2014
• ISBN: 9781628800234

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Copyright © 2014 Steven Dillard

All rights reserved.

Published by Steven Dillard at Smashwords.com

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ISBN 978-1-62880-023-4 Smashwords

ISBN 978-1-62880-021-0 Paperback

Table of Contents

Sheltered Children

Broadway

Emergency Medical Mission

North to Florida

Partial Information

Illegal Real Estate

Not What North Seems

From Funeral to Farm

Future Fortunes

Mutiny of the Captains

Century of Irony

Buried Beginnings

Choose Your Weapon

Working the Weak Ones

Knocked Out

Apartment Arson

Vigilante Villain

A New Car!!

Can You Trace Me Now?

Boss’ Secret City Employees

Crooked City Council

Down the Drain

Here Today, Gone Today

Humble Heroes

About the Author

Mafia

A secret criminal organization engaged in illegal activities

* * * * *

Any of various similar criminal organizations, especially when dominated by members of the same nationality

* * * * *

A secret criminal organization operating since the early 19th century and known for its intimidation of and retribution against law enforcement officials and witnesses

* * * * *

Often mafia Informal

A tightly knit group of trusted associates

Taken from: thefreedictionary.com

Chapter 1

Sheltered Children

At two a.m. on a weeknight, the streets were quiet, especially in New York’s suburbs. Those that were out were no doubt up to things considered illegal by many laws in the US.

Three men in a van made their way down an empty street toward their destination in the cloudless summer night. The open-all-night store was all but closed. The night clerk was outside sweeping and turned towards the sound of the approaching van.

He watched as the van made its way onto the lot. It was glossy black and had been specially outfitted to make it stand out from others. It had expensive custom chrome wheels, a fender and wheel area accessories, special halogen headlights and a unique sound system that could be heard half of a block away. In fact many wondered how the driver could hear over the noise.

After setting the broom against the wall, the store clerk strolled slowly into the store. Behind him in the front passenger seat, a young man, barely twenty years old, opened the door and got out of the van. The driver remained inside. The passenger opened the side door, allowing an even younger man to emerge and exit the van. Both were dressed in black with military caps and bulletproof vests.

Gotta get that handle fixed, said the back seat passenger.

The front passenger wiggled the handle a couple times and shut the door. As the two young men walked into the store, they turned toward the beer coolers.

The clerk, standing uncertainly behind the counter, spoke up nervously. Hey guys, I got your beer already.

They turned toward the counter and saw the clerk lifting the beer up for them so they could see the brand. As they walked towards him, the clerk trembled slightly and his name tag, that read Bobby, shook slightly. Bobby placed a brown bag on the counter along with the case of beer and pushed it towards them.

The younger man from the back seat stepped up to the counter while the front seat passenger walked around it so he was standing close to Bobby.

Please don’t hurt me this time, Bobby said putting his hands up. It’s all there! There’s the weekly take that your men said the boss requires.

The front passenger stepped closer to Bobby and grabbed him around the throat. What? Do you think we are stupid? Show me the safe!

Bobby was scared and almost in tears, Y-y-you guys know I don’t know what the combination is to the safe.

Word is, you were promoted to night manager and were given keys to the store and will be making all deposits from now on, the man said, his hands still around Bobby’s throat.

Yeah show us the deposits or we will have to get all nasty up in here. said the younger man, moving his hand in his pocket as if he had a gun.

The front passenger turned and looked at the back passenger and spat, Shut up fool! He turned back to Bobby, pulled out his gun and sternly said, We have to get going Bobby. Open the safe, now!

Bobby was scared. They made me assistant manager. They never said anything about the safe and the deposits. The manager always makes them in the mornings after I leave so he has emptied out my drawer already. He comes in seven days a week to do it. They did say things are changing this week but they didn’t say anything about me making the deposits. It’s all there in the bag as you asked. Just check it.

As Bobby reached for the bag to show them the back seat passenger brought out his gun and pointed it at Bobby’s face. Bobby put his hands up and took a step back from the counter.

So, the manager just leaves a bag of money sitting around for just anyone to take? You didn’t open the safe and take it out? Do I look stupid to you? Damn, I’m repeating myself, said the front passenger.

No, you don’t look stupid. Actually your bag of money was just brought in a few minutes before you arrived, said the clerk, realizing he might have just said the wrong thing.

The front passenger stepped up more threateningly and placed the gun on Bobby’s forehead. Who brought the money in?

I don’t know who it was. Just some guy saying he was a friend of the manager and that this was the protection money. He set it on the counter and walked out the door. He got in a black SUV and drove off. I set the bag under the counter and walked out to sweep the parking lot. That’s the truth. I don’t have the combination. There’s the safe, said Bobby, pointing to the bottom of the counter.

The passenger pulled back the hammer on his gun. He turned and looked to where Bobby was pointing. The door of the safe was ajar. It had not been fully closed. He lowered his gun and looked Bobby in the eyes. You just managed to stay alive. Let’s take a look in that safe.

* * * * * * *

How many more stops? asked the back seat passenger.

That’s it for tonight, we’re heading back to the warehouse, said the driver.

Well, crank up the jams and step on it, I’m hungry, the back seat passenger said with a slight whine.

The driver, an average built man in his fifties, shook his head, I’m not taking any chances with all this money on board. You boys will never go it alone if you keep acting like this. Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.

Neither one of the young guys was listening to him. The front passenger had leaned over and seemed to have dozed off. The back passenger was looking inside one of the bags of money.

The driver looked in the mirror and noticed the young man handling the bag. Put that down Frankie and don’t touch it ‘til we get it to the boss! You boys keep trying to be all tough and everything, you’re gonna end up like your brother Michael. Do you want that?

No sir, it was Frankie’s idea. said the front passenger, with eyes still closed.

Frankie punched the back of the front passenger seat, Go to sleep, liar. Why you gotta lie on me, Luis? It was your idea. You just want to be like Joshua or Veronika, and stop calling me Frankie. It’s just Frank, now. Driver is right; you’re going to end up getting us shot being all stupid. We need to just get the money and leave. What if a cop walked in?

The boss owns the police. We’re in the clear, said Luis.

Driver shook his head, Never think you are in the clear. Not all of the cops are on the boss’ payroll, like you boys think. There aren’t many cops left but something could happen at any moment. Isn’t that right, Frankie?

Yes, don’t be stupid like Michael, and it’s just Frank now. I hated it when Mom called me Frankie. It seemed like it was only when she was mad at me for messing up something, and usually it was you or Michael the whole time that did it and you two lied about it. I hated to be called Frank Jr. too. After dad left us, I just wanted it to be Frank.

Why you gotta bring up Michael? asked Luis.

Driver brought him up first. Because it too dangerous, I don’t want to end up like him. I’m sick of this collection thing. I’m sick of the fighting and the challenges. I’m just sick of all the fights between the gangs, these stupid mafia wars, said Frankie.

Luis laughed to himself and said, Oh we’re part of a mafia, now?

Frankie leaned up, putting his hands on both front seats, Well, what do you call it, Driver?

Frankie pretty much nailed it. There are definitely wars between the mafias going on. I saw one boss get capped and another just stepped up and took his place. People followed him and did what he said, until someone got brave enough to take him out along with some others in the gang that said they were dropping out. Yeah, you can call it a mafia, and it’s definitely too dangerous for you guys. said the driver.

Frankie thought about the way his slightly older brother Luis was always into mischief, and when confronted, pointed the finger at Frankie. Coming from a family of three boys and two girls, there were always four sets of fingers being pointed in Frankie’s direction. Their dad had left when Frankie was barely a year old. Their mom cleaned houses during the day and waitressed in the evening so she wasn’t around to see them grow up. Nor was she able to give them proper discipline to keep them all out of mischief, better known as in trouble with the law. The two middle sisters had since married and moved away, without keeping in touch – They no longer wanted to be a part of the boys’ criminal lives.

Michael was the most violent one in the family. He was always bullying either his younger brothers or someone in school in the playground, in the back alleys, or anywhere he just felt the urge. He didn’t have too many friends.

Often when Michael went on the protection money collection runs he’d punch someone. He loved to do it as he thought it made him look tough instilling fear in people, but a few times he’d gone overboard. One night he decided to go by himself to the one that paid the most cash to the boss, thinking he would look good in the boss’ eyes. He arrived at the restaurant, and entered through the front door. Normally they would go around to the back but tonight he wanted to make an entrance.

Michael walked through the dining room and continued through the door which led to the kitchen. The kitchen manager, a tall, slim, Italian man in his early forties, saw him come in, and nodded. He turned and hurriedly walked into the small office. Within a few seconds, he reappeared with a small brown bag in his hand, walked up to Michael and held it out for him.

Michael reached up and grabbed the manager by the throat and asked, Is it all there?

Yes, of course, said the manager, with an Italian accent.

Michael grabbed the bag and released his grip, It better be for your sake.

Michael did not see the door leading to the dining room open. A customer, an average build man in his mid-fifties, walked through the door and asked, Is everything okay?

Michael turned and pulled out his gun in the same motion. He raised the gun up and said, Go back to your table.

The customer raised his arms and said, I’m going. Please, don’t shoot. He turned and went out the door.

Michael took the bag of money and hurriedly walked through the door, following the customer. A few women customers noticed the gun in his hand and shrieked.

Michael waved the gun around and shouted, Stay seated and no one dies tonight. He made his way through the restaurant, almost to the front door when the host stepped over to open the door for him. Michael waved the gun to the right and said, You almost got yourself killed.

With his hands raised, the host took a couple steps back and said, Please, don’t shoot.

Michael opened the door and hurriedly left the restaurant. As he was opening the car door, he glanced back at the doorway of the restaurant to see the same customer that had walked into the kitchen, standing there talking on his phone. He heard him and realized the he was a cop.

This is Chief Inspector Mathis, the man said into his phone. We have a robbery in progress at the Island Palm. The suspect is male, six feet, about two hundred and twenty pounds and driving a burgundy two door sedan. He is leaving, heading south on Eighth Avenue. I’m following him. I’m going to my car now.

When Michael sped away, he looked in the rearview mirror and never noticed the red light. As his car entered the intersection a large moving van slammed into him, instantly obliterating the car into thousands of pieces. Car parts and shattered glass was strewn all over the avenue.

Inspector Mathis didn’t even have to move his car. He ran to the road and saw the horrific mess. He pulled the phone from his pocket again and dialed the same number again. This is Inspector Mathis, cancel the robbery in progress. Send a tow truck, accident clean-up crew, and body bag to Thirteen-Hundred and Eighth Avenue. When he hung up the phone, he spoke softly to himself, Karma is a hell of a thing.

Hey, wake up and stop fooling with the loot, said Luis

Frankie came back to himself and noticed he had a wad of money in his hand, Hunh? I ain’t takin’ none of his loot. He pays us too good to be trying to rip him off. The stores we hit tonight for collections are more than I made in three month flippin’ burgers, but it ain’t worth me losing my life over. I ain’t gonna be stupid like Michael was, because the boss is good to us. We don’t have to pay rent, bills, and no car payments. We got it made. Ain’t that right, Driver?

Driver shook his head, This is my van and I paid for it; Tasconi didn’t give it to me. I’ve put a lot of money into fixing it up and no one will take it from me.

Luis cut in, How do we have it made, Frankie? We don’t get to fly on vacations with the boss, go to Vegas, go to Cuba where he gets his load of Cuban Cigars, none of that. We get to do all of the work and he gets the rewards. If we left, we would have nothing. If the Feds came in he would take off and we would be left to be hung out, or whatever the saying is.

Where is he gonna go where he can’t be touched by the law? asked Frankie.

Driver looked at Frankie in the mirror, He would want to go back home to Cuba but wouldn’t.

Why not? Luis asked.

Because the police would turn him in unless he bribed them. They are all money hungry, said Driver.

Luis looked back and said, Just don’t worry about it. When we get back and give the boss the money, we can drink our beer. That kid meant good. You know I wasn’t gonna kill him, just wanted to see if it was all there and be sure of it. Don’t wanna make the boss mad.

You boys are too young to drink and you have got to stop trying to be like your brother, Michael. Remember what happened to him? You can’t just pull out your guns and show them like that. You’re good boys and one day you’ll have enough money to go live on your own, said Driver.

You have been like a dad to us. We really appreciate you looking out for us like you have. Maybe one day you can be a Boss and have people collect for you, said Frankie.

I want to get as far away from this stuff as possible. I’ve worked out a deal with some people that will help the three of us. You can’t say anything to anyone in the gang about this. The Boss will have us put down if we say anything about leaving him. We‘ll be there in twenty minutes. The parkway is just ahead. Remember, not a word.

Why do you park in a driveway and drive on a parkway? asked Frankie, smiling.

Luis turned and smiled at him, I remember you asking Momma that.

Two black SUVs passed the van and stopped in front of them. Driver slammed on the brakes, barely stopping just inches short of hitting them. He jerked the gear shift into reverse but it was too late, two more black SUVs had pulled in behind them. They were wedged in.

Over a dozen people wearing black and gray military style camouflage outfits, with ski masks covering their heads, exited from the SUVs and surrounded the van. The guys knew they were outnumbered, and outgunned. Several people held very large guns with two hands. Just below the barrel of the guns, which were rectangular instead of round, a red square glowed. The light seemed to dim and brighten over and over, like a steady hypnotic pulse.

Step out of the van and no one gets hurt, said a voice from one of the front SUVs.

Luis spoke while he stared outside at the people with the guns, What the hell is this, some new kind of S.W.A.T. team? Are those weapons military?

Ten seconds or we incinerate the van, with you inside, came the intercom voice again.

Luis looked at Driver, and then back at Frankie. Driver opened his door, stepped out and closed it behind him. He made eye contact with a large, muscular, hooded man camouflage. They nodded at each other. As the red light on the bottom of the gun’s barrel began to glow brighter, Driver smiled.

While watching what Driver was doing, Luis and Frankie didn’t notice the people on their side of the van had moved forward and a moment later the doors were quickly jerked open. They didn’t even have time to react to the sudden jolt of energy that coursed briefly through their bodies. They slumped instantly, unconscious, but still alive.

* * * * * * *

Driver’s van was surrounded by a couple of dozen men wearing anything from dirty t-shirts and ripped jeans to casual dress pants and shirts. Some of the men looked like they hadn’t shaved in over a week, while others looked like they cared about their hygiene and appearance.

The van was parked in a yard near some large metal shipping containers. A warehouse and several other buildings, including a maintenance building with several large metal doors and a smaller building, which was for the worker’s quarters of the now closed and condemned shipping docks, was located on the other side of the yard.

There was hardly anyone or anything that could not make it to this side of the yard without being seen. There were many cars, vans, trucks, motor cycles and other various vehicles that came and went, but Driver’s van in particular would have been noticed entering the yard.

A man walked toward the crowd of people surrounding the van. In his dress pants and gray polo-styled short sleeved shirt he stood out from the others in the yard. He was just under six feet tall with brown hair and an average build. No one saw the van come in? he asked.

A chubby baldheaded man dressed in tattered clothing said, The guards at the gate had fallen asleep. When they woke up they called and said the gate was open. We came outside and it was sitting here. We’ve been trying to get into the van but it’s locked up tight. Luis and Frankie and Driver were supposed to return with the money but we can’t get them out of the van. We know there is someone in there but there hasn’t been any movement at all, sir.

Did you try to open the door?

The baldheaded man reached for the door handle and lifted it to show him that it was locked, Yes, Number One, we did everything. We tried to bash the window but it’s unbreakable. We tried to pry the door open with a crowbar but there’s no way to get anything in there to pry it open. Driver must have put a lot of money into this van to make it impossible to break into.

What about picking the lock?

The man pointed to the area just below the handle, No door locks, none at all.

Number One looked at the door again and saw the man was correct. It was a sunny day so he stepped up to the van, placed his hands on the glass and put his face between them to look inside to block the light. There was something in the floor area but the front seat blocked the view to clearly make out a body. Are they dead?

They are dead or dead asleep. We haven’t seen any movement at all in the last twenty minutes. We’ve tried everything. That is why we called you personally.

Number One looked at him, And well you should have. Well done but we have got to get that van unloaded and processed. Have your men tow it inside and get it open, even if you have to take a cutting torch to it.

Yes sir.

At that moment, the van moved. Actually, someone inside the van moved. The door locks clicked and the side door swung open. Several empty beer cans fell out as Luis squinted in the glare of the sun.

Welcome back. Glad you could join us, said Number One.

Frankie moaned and began to come around. He raised himself up, moved to the doorway, looked around and spoke, What’s going on, and how did we get here?

Number One was agitated again, What do you mean, ‘how did we get here?’ Where is Driver?

I don’t know. You haven’t seen him? asked Luis, rubbing his eyes.

Does it look like we’ve see him? Where did he go? asked Number One.

Luis thought for a second, We were doing our job the way we always do it. We were coming back and were cut off just before the parkway. There were these black SUVs. They surrounded us. There were over twenty of them. They had these huge guns. They told us to get out of the van. Driver opened his door and got out. That’s all I remember. I think someone jerked open the door…or I dreamed it. I woke up and here I am. I mean, here we are.

Number One turned and walked to the back of the van. He pressed the button on the door handle and pulled the door open.

Where’s the money? asked Luis.

There was nothing in the back but beer cans, a gas can and the black masks they used for collecting.

"Yes, where is the money? Where the hell are the collections?

* * * * * * *

Luis had been brought to the boss’ office. He was seated in the most comfortable leather chair he had ever sat in. The chair was so large there was almost room for two. Even as comfortable as it was, he was growing bored of sitting and waiting. He looked around the room and noticed the paintings on the wall. He got up from the chair and walked over to the wall of paintings and noticed the engraved brass plates mounted below each one. He recognized the names of the paintings by Leonardo DaVinci, Michelangelo Buonarrati and Raphael but Giovanni Canaletto, Sandro Botticelli and Jacopo Tintoretto were names he had never heard anything of.

He turned and looked to see what else the boss had collected. On the far wall was a bookcase with glass doors. As he approached, he saw many things. One shelf contained several cigar humidors. On another shelf was a collection of what looked like oversized eggs on small, marble stands. A brass plate read ‘Gemstone Faberge Eggs’, and each was labeled; diamond, sapphire, turquoise, onyx, and ruby. There were two empty stands; one labeled gold and the other emerald.

Wonder what these are worth? Luis asked softly.

The door to the right of the shelved collection opened, and four men walked in. The first motioned for Luis to have a seat. The next man was tall, thin, middle-aged and dressed in a black suit with white shirt and burgundy tie. In fact, the four men were all dressed the same with black slacks and white shirts. Each one had an over the shoulder strap with a gun holster at their side. Luis knew that their standard issued gun was the .45 caliber pistol. One of the men walked behind the desk and pulled out the chair while the other three stood just behind and at the side of the desk.

Luis walked over rather quickly and sat down. He noticed that one of the four men was Number One. He stood alone on the right side of the boss. He was always at his side, seeing to something or ‘someone’ that the boss needed taken care of.

The boss didn’t look up from his desk, Where is Driver? I know you are all in on this. Do you know what happens to people that steal my money?

Luis started to rise but noticed Number One staring at him and shaking his head. Luis relaxed back down in the chair. We were ambushed sir. We have no idea what happened to the money and the equipment. If we were stealing your money, then, why are we here?

The boss opened his top drawer of the desk. Luis thought that this was it and the boss was going to personally shoot him. The boss pulled out a newspaper and tossed it to him.

You made the front page headlines. said the boss sarcastically.

Luis unfolded the newspaper to see the headline, Store Clerk Killed and Left to Burn. The photo showed the open-all-night store gutted out from a fire.

Luis’ eyes widened, We didn’t do that, we didn’t kill that kid, and we sure didn’t torch the place!

You’re just like your brother Michael, aren’t you, Luis? The boss’ tone had deepened. You got sloppy and decided to take someone out. You killed that poor kid, then, you burnt down one of my best payouts.

No Sir, we didn’t do it, I swear. They knocked us out after we got blocked in by these big SUVs. They’re the ones that took your money and probably Driver too.

The boss leaned forward in his chair, What SUVs? Who knocked you out?

They were bigger than most SUVs. These people got out and surrounded us. They were carrying these huge guns that were glowing red on the end. That’s all I remember. When we woke up, we were in the van in the parking lot. Luis was nervous thinking the boss was going to have him shot at any moment.

You all were drunk, I saw the beer cans. Driver took the money, because, the plan you all came up with was so that you and Frankie could do some more collecting and meet him later. It’s not working that way, so, tell me where you are meeting him and we will work something out. the boss said.

Boss, that’s not the way it is, I swear, we didn’t know he was going to take the money. We didn’t have any plans. We got ripped off. We didn’t burn down no store or kill that kid, Bobby. I swear on my brother’s life, said Luis

The boss looked over his shoulder to Number One, Speaking of whom, bring him in.

Number One left the room through the door beside the display case.

The boss turned and looked at the other men, It seems that every week I’m losing more and more businesses. They are either burnt down or the people have completely moved out. How do you move out an entire grocery store in one night?

Luis only managed to get out the words, We didn’t--

The boss turned his attention back to Luis, You will soon be treated to the same experience as the others that have screwed up for me.

On the other side of the door beside the display, Number One’s voice could be heard getting closer and then the door opened, If you do anything else like this to someone being detained by Tasconi, you will be on the receiving end.

Luis turned to see Number One walking through the door. He was followed by two more men carrying the almost lifeless body of Frankie. The two men brought Frankie into the room near Luis and released him to the ground with a thud. Luis began to get up but one of the men pushed him back down in the chair. They took a place at Luis’ left and right.

Frankie moaned. Luis looked down to see the beaten, bruised and bloodied face of Frankie staring up at him. Frankie was moaning repeatedly, We didn’t do it.

Luis became angry, Frankie is right. We didn’t take your damn money! We are loyal to you and yet look what you have done to Frankie.

The boss turned and looked at Number One.

Number One replied, It was Joshua, again.

The boss looked back to Luis, Let’s hope for Joshua’s sake he doesn’t die until Number One can take you two out and have some fun. The boss turned his attention back to Number One, They’re all yours.

All the men moved from behind the boss towards Luis.

Number one removed his .45 caliber pistol and aimed it at Luis, then waved it towards the door Stand up! Let’s go!

Luis stood up and followed orders. He glanced back to Frankie and saw the two men that brought him in pick him up from the floor. Frankie began moaning, We didn’t do it.

Be back in a few hours, said Number One, then, he and the other men left the room behind the two carrying Frankie.

Chapter 2

Broadway

Times Square was always busy, no matter what time of day or what kind of weather. Rain, sleet, snow, or sweltering heat never seemed to stop the