wings—abusive-style—and a side order of cheese fries.
At five o’clock, I showered, then I got dressed and left for work. The rain and snow had stopped. It was dark, but it wasn’t as cold as it had been the past few nights. I walked down First Avenue with my leather coat wide open. I was thinking about tomorrow morning. I’d call Alan Schwartz at about nine o’clock—set up a time to meet the guys. Or maybe I’d throw Pete a call from the bar tonight, just to make sure everything was still cool.
A block away I spotted two police cars double-parked in front of O’Reilley’s. I wasn’t surprised. I knew that Frank would call the cops as soon as he noticed the money was missing. I just hoped that Rodrigo wouldn’t rat on me. I didn’t see why he would—he was a good guy, an amigo —but I was still worried about it.
Looking in the window, I saw that the bar was crowded—a lot more crowded than it usually was on a Sunday at six o’clock. O’Reilley’s didn’t have big-screen TVs so we usually didn’t get a big football crowd on Sundays like the sports bars did. I took a deep breath and went inside.
I was expecting the cops to come over to talk to me right away, but this didn’t happen. Instead, people hardly noticed me. Frank was in the middle of the crowd and people were shouting at him and the police —two male cops, one female cop, and one older guy in a jacket and tie—were trying to calm everybody down.
Frank saw me behind the crowd and I made a face to him that said, “What the hell’s going on?” Frank pushed his way through the crowd and came up to me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Somebody robbed the safe.”
“The safe? You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me. How the fuck did—holy shit, you mean the Super Bowl money—?”
“Fourteen grand,” Frank said. “I’m such an idiot for leaving money like that lying around. I was gonna go to the bank on Friday, but I figured it could wait till Monday.”
“Jesus, I can’t fuckin’ believe this,” I said, shaking my head. “When the hell did this happen?”
“We don’t know. Last night...this morning. I just found out an hour ago.”
“So what’d they do, bust the safe open?”
“Nah, they went in and out—used the combination. And I have a good idea who did it.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Gary,” Frank said. “Who else? He’s the only one who knows the combination besides me and he was pretty upset last night when I told him I was gonna let you manage the bar. I wasn’t gonna call the cops on him, but I figured I had to, with all this money gone. The thing is I just can’t believe he’d do something like this—steal from his own father.”
One of the male police officers came over and said something to Frank and then Frank introduced me to the officer. I was trying to look as pissed off as Frank.
The officer said he wanted to have the detective ask me a few questions and I said that was fine with me. While he went to get the detective I was looking over at the female cop. She was about thirty with short blond hair and blue eyes. She was very good looking.
“Tommy Russo.”
Still looking at the blond cop, it took me an extra second or two to realize that the detective was talking to me. He was standing next to me—a guy about my height, but he was built like a rail and he was about fifty years old. He had a shiny bald head.
“Detective Edwards,” he said as we shook hands. “I take it you’re Tommy Russo.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“And you’re the bouncer here, is that correct?”
I nodded.
“Can you tell me what time you left the bar last night?”
“Around three o’clock,” I said. “I know because I was home in bed by three-fifteen.”
“Was Gary O’Reilley still here when you left?”
“Nah, he left about a half hour before me.”
“So was there anybody here when you left the bar last night?”
“Just the guys from the kitchen, I guess,” I said. “I thought I was coming
At five o’clock, I showered, then I got dressed and left for work. The rain and snow had stopped. It was dark, but it wasn’t as cold as it had been the past few nights. I walked down First Avenue with my leather coat wide open. I was thinking about tomorrow morning. I’d call Alan Schwartz at about nine o’clock—set up a time to meet the guys. Or maybe I’d throw Pete a call from the bar tonight, just to make sure everything was still cool.
A block away I spotted two police cars double-parked in front of O’Reilley’s. I wasn’t surprised. I knew that Frank would call the cops as soon as he noticed the money was missing. I just hoped that Rodrigo wouldn’t rat on me. I didn’t see why he would—he was a good guy, an amigo —but I was still worried about it.
Looking in the window, I saw that the bar was crowded—a lot more crowded than it usually was on a Sunday at six o’clock. O’Reilley’s didn’t have big-screen TVs so we usually didn’t get a big football crowd on Sundays like the sports bars did. I took a deep breath and went inside.
I was expecting the cops to come over to talk to me right away, but this didn’t happen. Instead, people hardly noticed me. Frank was in the middle of the crowd and people were shouting at him and the police —two male cops, one female cop, and one older guy in a jacket and tie—were trying to calm everybody down.
Frank saw me behind the crowd and I made a face to him that said, “What the hell’s going on?” Frank pushed his way through the crowd and came up to me.
“What happened?” I asked.
“Somebody robbed the safe.”
“The safe? You’re fuckin’ kiddin’ me. How the fuck did—holy shit, you mean the Super Bowl money—?”
“Fourteen grand,” Frank said. “I’m such an idiot for leaving money like that lying around. I was gonna go to the bank on Friday, but I figured it could wait till Monday.”
“Jesus, I can’t fuckin’ believe this,” I said, shaking my head. “When the hell did this happen?”
“We don’t know. Last night...this morning. I just found out an hour ago.”
“So what’d they do, bust the safe open?”
“Nah, they went in and out—used the combination. And I have a good idea who did it.”
“Who?” I asked.
“Gary,” Frank said. “Who else? He’s the only one who knows the combination besides me and he was pretty upset last night when I told him I was gonna let you manage the bar. I wasn’t gonna call the cops on him, but I figured I had to, with all this money gone. The thing is I just can’t believe he’d do something like this—steal from his own father.”
One of the male police officers came over and said something to Frank and then Frank introduced me to the officer. I was trying to look as pissed off as Frank.
The officer said he wanted to have the detective ask me a few questions and I said that was fine with me. While he went to get the detective I was looking over at the female cop. She was about thirty with short blond hair and blue eyes. She was very good looking.
“Tommy Russo.”
Still looking at the blond cop, it took me an extra second or two to realize that the detective was talking to me. He was standing next to me—a guy about my height, but he was built like a rail and he was about fifty years old. He had a shiny bald head.
“Detective Edwards,” he said as we shook hands. “I take it you’re Tommy Russo.”
“That’s right,” I said.
“And you’re the bouncer here, is that correct?”
I nodded.
“Can you tell me what time you left the bar last night?”
“Around three o’clock,” I said. “I know because I was home in bed by three-fifteen.”
“Was Gary O’Reilley still here when you left?”
“Nah, he left about a half hour before me.”
“So was there anybody here when you left the bar last night?”
“Just the guys from the kitchen, I guess,” I said. “I thought I was coming
Similar Books
