The Scam

            by Jereme Altenberg

 

         “James Gilk, are you aware of the seriousness of this crime?”

         James stared forward at the cup of water on the table as the words echoed around him. He looked at the mirror that was behind the detective speaking to him. He knew there were more watching, seeing what kind of reactions he would give, telltale facial expressions indicating which other people might be involved.

         “James the bank has lost hundreds of thousands of dollars, and we have no one to blame but you, so start talkin’.”

         James stared off. He wouldn’t say anything. Him and Mike swore never to do that.

         “James this is thirty years we are talking about. If you got something to say, I recommend you say it now!” the man yelled and then pulled some papers out. “Perhaps this might help.”

         He threw down a folder on the cold table, opened it and spread out a half dozen pictures across the table. James’ emotionless stare scanned the bank security camera pictures. In the first was Mike, of course, right at the counter next to him. In another, Mike was walking toward the bathroom. Must have been right before the handoff, he thought. How the hell did I get caught, all seems to have gone as planned. James gave no sign of recognition to any of the pictures. Unless he said something, these pictures couldn’t prove anything about the others.

         James looked back up and stared right through the mirror. You guys don’t got shit.

         The detective cracked a smile. “Michael Stanton ring a bell, James?”

         Congratulations, you know his name.

         “It appears you lived with him for a number of years, from January 1997 to June 2001,” the detective said, ruffling through his papers. “But then you moved out after he was charged with armed robbery. Lucky son of bitch got off though, after they found the prints of some random Italian named Jojo.”

         The Italian mob is probably still on you for that one Mike, you dumb ass.

         “Well, you gonna say anything or not James?”

         James stared forward, glanced down at the photos once, and then looked the detective in the eye. “Go to hell.”

         “Ah James, James. You’re missing the bigger picture. We’re not idiots. We’re a fucking intelligence agency. We know all the people who were in on it, we just couldn’t catch them, they were gone too fast.”

         “What’s all this about then. You already know you can eat shit, I’m not telling you anything.”

         “James did you even look at these pictures? Look, right here, see? There’s an Italiano, right there. And here, in this one. There’s two.”

         James looked down towards the pictures, now slightly less sure of what they were actually questioning him about. “How do you know those are Italian mob guys? They seem like they’re just costumers.”

         “Jojo’s still working his jail time off, he gives us information. Jojo’s on our side now James.”

         How the hell did the Italians know about this?

         James started to see where this was going, but he was sure the Italians didn’t know about the operation. “So what, what do you want me to do?”

         “Jojo told us there’s a push of something in the city this weekend. We’re expecting cocaine. We need a sting.”

         “Fuck off. I don’t need the Italians on my bad side, I’ve got enough shi—”

         “James this push is for two-hundred and fifty seven thousand. Two-hundred and fifty seven exactly.”

         James fell silent. His stern face turned to one of emptiness as his mind began running through the operation from beginning to end. There was no way the Italians could have found out about it. The plan was fool proof, and he and Mike never told any other associates about the big plan at the bank. James stared at his cup of water.

“How do you know it’s two-hundred and fifty seven?”

         “Well James, you can believe me or not, but if you don’t your friend Mikey is getting screwed.”

         Fuck off.

         But he was right. James couldn’t risk Mike’s life just to avoid the Italians. And anytime the Italian are talking money, they will destroy anything in their path in order to get to it. He had to figure out a way to get the message to Mike, or at least to stop the Italians.

         “So no thirty years if I do this, huh?”

         “Listen James, this bank business is peanuts compared to this cocaine smuggle in San Francisco. If you help us out you’ll be here quite a few less than thirty.”

         “Alright, I’ll do it.”

         “Okay James, we’ll set up a meeting with you and Jojo tomorrow.”

         Yeah, whatever, who cares about these Italians and their cocaine, I need to figure out what happened to Mike.

 

        

         The next day James walked out of his county jail cell and into another interrogation room, this time to meet with Jojo and discuss the plan.

         “So tell me what this is about James,” Jojo said to him in his think Italian accent.

         “Alright, there’s this drug deal for $257 thousand that they told me about, and that’s the exact amount me and Mike stole from the bank.” James spoke to Jojo with much less sureness in his voice.

         “Well do you know where Mike is right now?”

         “Well that’s what I need to figure out, I need to get to Mike and warn him, if it’s not already too late.”

         “I know where this is going down, and how many people. And let me tell you, kid, you’ve gotten damn lucky they only got three people working this. And yeah, your friend Mike will be there.”

         “Do you know what they are going to do with him?”

         “I couldn’t find out anything more, but I know he’ll be there.”

 

         The next week James was glad to be outside of the Jail. He walked to the BART station to go to San Francisco where Jojo directed him. Although he hadn’t dealt with the Italians before, he shaved and wore a giant overcoat, in order to disguise himself a bit. As the train howled, full speed toward the city, James became more anxious to see if his friend Mike was okay. When he got to the Embarcadero station he began walking quickly to the address that Jojo told him.

         When he got to the block he scoped the building from across the street. He noticed an Italian standing outside the complex, but he decided to walk in and act as if he lived there. When he walked up to the doorway, however. the guy stopped him and asked what he wanted. James grabbed the guy and smashed his head into wall of the building. Then he opened the double doors quickly and tied his coat around the handles so it couldn’t be opened. When he turned around he was met with another two Italians. He threw a few hooks hitting them in the side of the face and knocking him down. He saw a stairway to his right and ran up it. When he got to the fourth floor he smashed the door open and saw Mike sitting in the corner.

 

         “James what are you doing here?!” Mike said when he looked up after hearing the door open.

         “Mike! We gotta get out of here, they’re coming up the stairway right now,” James said to Mike as he helped him up out of the corner of the room. James noticed a chain and knife on the table in the room. “Are you alright? Have they hurt you? We’ll get these fuckers Mike.”

         “How’d you find me James?”

         “At the bank they caught me, Mike. These fucking detectives interrogated me about the bank and hustled me into stinging on this operation. But I talked to Jojo, you know the guy who mysteriously took the heat for your armed robbery? He told me about how you’d be here. Mike the fucking Italians were at the bank when we were wiring the money. I don’t know how they knew but they found out some how. We gotta get outta here Mike.”

         “Dammit,” Mike said under his breath. “Here, this way, follow me.” Mike ran to the other side of the room and toward the door.

         “No not there, Mike. They’re probably following me. Here this door —” but Mike pushed open the door and there were the Italians.

         James froze. He expected it was over right then for Mike, but just as he was about to grab the pistol tucked in the back of his pants, Mike said the oddest thing.

         “Sorry James. I thought they’d just lock you up,” he spoke with a different tone James had never heard.

         “What’s going Mike, what the hell?”

         “James I owed these guys big time. But I didn’t expect them to use you as a sting, really James.” He pause and took a deep breath, “Remember Jojo, back when he got caught for what I did?”

         Oh, you didn’t James thought.

         “I needed some one to take the heat for me James, and they said Jojo was being a snitch anyways, that they could do away with them. They did it for two-fifty plus seven with the juice pumping.”

         “What the fuck Mike? After working together for twenty years you just use me as cop bait in order to pay back the Italians?!”

         “Sorry it had be like this,” Mike said as he turned around. “I’m just trying to survive on this Earth, James.” Mike took out a credit card and handed it over to one of the Italians. “The pin is 2250,” he said as he walked out of the room.

         The two Italians stepped into the room and shut the door.

         “We’ll make this short don’t worry,” one said reaching for the chain. But James quickly reached for his pistol and let off two shots straight into each their chests.

         “Damn Italians,” James said as he grabbed the bank card out of the dead Italian’s pocket and exited the room. He ran down the stairs as fast he could and saw Mike two flights down, at the bottom trying to untie his coat that was around the handles. Without thinking twice James aimed it right at his back and pulled the trigger. Mike fell slowly first to his knees then sides ways toward the ground, looking up the stairs.  James walked down toward him and pulled the card out held it up. “Looks like I’m surviving, Mike.”

            Mike responded with five soft words, “See you in hell, buddy,” then took his last few breaths as James left the building.