Page 38 of Sal Gabrini: Man on Fire

CHAPTER NINETEEN

The next morning before daybreak Sal’s Bugatti sped up to the front side of the warehouse and came to a fast stop at the entrance door. Robby Yale was waiting and opened the car door for his boss.

Sal pressed his trunk button, his trunk opened, and then he and Robby began walking to the back of the car. “Everybody’s here?” Sal asked as they walked.

“Yes, sir. It wasn’t optional.”

“Who you figure might have known something?”

“Or be involved himself?” asked Robby. “If I had to guess, then I’d figure Gucci.”

But Sal was shaking his head. “It’s not Guch.”

“Why not, Boss? He’s always mouthing off. Always got something to say every time you lay down the law.”

“That’s because he’s no yes-man, and I like that. He reminds me of your ass.”

Robby smiled as Sal pulled a chain whip from out of the trunk of his car and Robby grabbed the shotgun.

“It’s not Guch,” Sal said again as he pressed the button and his trunk closed. “But they all respect him.” They began walking toward the entrance. “I’ll use that respect to get what I need to know.”

“How did it go with Kidd Curry?” Robby asked as they walked.

Sal looked at his underboss. “How you think it went? A fucking shit show, that’s how it went. And that was before Markie showed up.”

Robby opened the door and Sal walked ahead of him into the building.

Every leader in Sal’s syndicate, the so-calledmademen, were seated at a long table inside the dusty room. Gucci Benza, as usual, was seated at the head of the table: where he felt should be his rightful place in their pecking order. Sal, with his chain whip at his side, walked to the head of the table and stood beside Gucci. Robby, with his high-powered shotgun in tow, guarded the entrance door. Nobody was leaving until Sal said they could leave.

“Everybody heard about what happened in California?” Sal asked them.

They all nodded that they’d heard.

“In case you were misinformed, let me tell you exactly what went down. Last night one of our own, Markie Merks of all people, tried to take me out, my wife out, and other members of my family.” Anger flared from Sal like sparks. “One of my own pulled that shit on me! One of my own!” he screamed.

He settled back down. “That will not stand. You know it and I know it. What I need to know from you is who else is involved in this shit. I need to know what it’s about. Why it’s going down. And what’s happening next. And before anybody in this room walks out of here alive, I’m going to have my answers. Somebody knows something, and you’d better talk and talk now.”

Sal waited, but nobody spoke. “What is it? Cat got your fucking tongues? Can’t remember anything all of a sudden? Not going to be a snitch all of a sudden? Fuck that shit and fuck it now! You’re a part of my organization. I handpicked every one of your asses. And when I confirmed you as a member of this organization, I expected and still expect complete and absolute loyalty! Who you think protects your ass? You? You’re protected because of me. Because of my name! And just like I let you in, I can let you out. But you won’t be going out upright like you came in. There will be a box accompanying you.”

Everybody understood what that meant. Robby could smell their fear. But he knew they loved Sal like he loved Sal. He knew they were loyal too.

“Start talking,” Sal said.

When there remained silence, Sal quickly wrapped his chain whip around his knuckles and then flung that chain around Gucci’s neck, wrapping it around twice to Robby’s shock. Then he pulled on it so tight that Gucci, who was kicking and wailing and fighting for his life, began turning red. Gucci’s chair was leaned all the way back from the force of Sal’s power.

“He goes first and then every fucker in this room goes after him if you don’t tell me what you know and tell me right now!” Sal proclaimed.

“We were contacted,” Pauley, another capo, said it quickly.

When Sal heard Pauley speak up, he released his pressure on Gucci’s neck and removed the chain whip. Gucci’s chair landed back on all fours and Gucci grabbed his neck, which was red and filled with the compressions of the chain, and then quickly got out of his chair, away from Sal, and slid down the side wall where he sat on the floor. He was still in agony. He was still holding his neck. He was still trying to regulate his breathing.

Robby could see Guch was pissed. You didn’t fuck with Sal. Even Guch knew that. But Pauley was talking like he didn’t get the memo. He was talking like Sal was going to let him fuck around with some other boss and be okay with it?

But Robby knew Pauley was speaking up because he figured Sal, who was much smarter than people gave him credit for, was going to find out anyway. And if Sal didn’t find out, his Uncle Mick would.

“Who were contacted?” Sal asked Pauley.

“I was. And Markie. I told him to kiss my ass. Markie did too, I declare he did, Boss. We were in a bar joking around and we figured he was just some nobody trying to make a name for himself by shaking down two of Sal Gabrini’s guys. We laughed in his face. I thought that was the end of it. But apparently it wasn’t. Apparently Markie got back in touch with him.”

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