Dirty Money

Chapter 20 - Farewell

            Michael and Brendan sat opposite Chuck in the luxurious office. The boss summoned them for lunch and a meeting and as usual his mood was hard to tell, which made both of the lieutenants uneasy.

            “I’m thinking, we should throw Angelo, a party,” Chuck said, just before he took a bite out of his sandwich.

            “Really?” Michael asked, surprised.

            “Yeah of course,” Chuck said, placing his sandwich down.

            “I’m glad to hear you say that boss,” Michael said, letting out a sigh of relief.

            Brendan shifted about in his chair trying to get comfortable.

            “But,” Chuck took another bite and swallowed, “We all know, that there’s no getting out of this business. I mean what if he decides to become a Good Samaritan during his retirement and alert authorizes about our doings? Or what if he writes a best selling book?” Chuck asked, emotionlessly.

            Michael put his hands over his eyes; Angelo was one of the nicest guys in the business, sure he fucked up with gambling but it was not an execution offence and now he had a way out, but Chuck was offering a different way out then what was intended.

            “Is there any other way around it?” Michael asked, pleading. 

            Chuck shook his head, “I wish.”

            Michael dragged his feet all the way into his shed; located at the back of his house; it was first and foremost a hangout place and secondly a workshop for when Michael was building and fixing things for the house. He regretted ever being excited about Angelo winning at the casino and even more, regretted ever letting Angelo anywhere near Chuck. As a boss, Michael, should have known better, and just let Angelo leave without saying anything to Chuck. The big boss would never have noticed anyway, this was all about sending a message to anyone else with a retirement plan; there was none.

            He pushed open the shed door revealing a couple of mix matched tables and chairs pushed together, a fridge, pool table, and a work station covered in tools. On the walls were posters from gangster films and models. Michael looked at his chubby face in the mirror and scratched the stubble around his chin, his eyes had bags from stress and he looked much older than he really was.

            He opened the fridge and took a can of beer out and drank it in one; he threw the can angrily against the back wall. Michael considered warning Angelo and telling him to scram and fake his own death, but if anyone ever saw him anywhere it would be Chuck’s bosses receiving the death penalty. Michael wiped the sweat away that was falling into his eyes, as he pulled out his smartphone and sent Angelo a message telling him about his farewell party.

            Michael threw his phone on the table and made his way over to a long steel toolbox and opened it with a key; attached to his car keys. Inside it was packed from top to bottom and side to side with bundles of cash. The lieutenant removed three large bundles and put them in a brown paper bag. He put Angelo’s wife’s retirement package on the table; Jane was also very fond of her husband, despite his gambling problems she always stuck by him with the kids.

“Fuck!” Michael shouted, tripping over his son’s tricycle, which made him briefly think of Angelo’s three small children and how fond they were of their dad.

                “Daddy!” Mikey Junior shouted as Michael entered the kitchen and scooped up his youngest son in one arm while walking up behind his wife. Bethany was stirring spaghetti around in a large cooking pot and smiled when Michael kissed her on the cheek.