James Patterson - Judge & Jury

"Don't even try it," I said as one of them stretched an arm out in front of me. My eyes were flashing and probably a little crazy."You understand?"

"Mr. Delsavio's not around," the goon grunted, looking as if he had flunked the screen test for The Sopranos.Too fucking large.

I shoved my ID in his face."This is the last time I say this nicely. Get out of my way. "

I hustled up the stairs, moving on pure adrenaline. Everyone in the building was probably connected. Feds didn't burst in here alone, without backup.

The second floor was filled with union offices. Cavello's people who got the cushy assignments, doing nothing but collecting cash. I went down the hall as the bozos from the lobby followed behind. A few secretaries looked up, trying to figure out what was going on.

Another guy stepped in my way. Dark glasses and an open, wide-collar shirt over a polyester suit."'Scuse me, sir!" He flipped open his jacket, exposing his piece. I didn't even wait for him to pull it. I pulled mine.

I stuck the muzzle under his nose and pushed the startled gangster against the wall. I pressed my FBI ID close to his face." This says, ‘yes, I can.'"

People started getting up from their desks behind me. I saw that the two goons who'd followed me from the lobby had their pieces out.

"This is a legitimate, private business," the guy against the wall declared."Our corporate counsel is down the hall. You're here without an appointment or a legitimate business purpose. Show me a subpoena or a warrant, Special Agent, or get the hell out."

I pressed the gun into his cheek."I asked to see Frank Delsavio."

"As you were told"-and he looked at me straight on-“Mr. Delsavio is not on the premises. You can't see him if he's not here."

Just then, a door opened at the end of the hall. A heavyset man stepped out, ruddy cheeks, hair combed over, in a short nylon jacket and an open plaid shirt.

" Agent Pellisante, " Frank Delsavio said in a raspy voice."Sallie, why didn't you just tell me it was Special Agent Pellisante? I just came back in. C'mon, step into my office. They musta not known I was here."

"IT IS STILL SPECIAL AGENT, isn't it?" Delsavio grinned."Or maybe we should call you Professor. I hear you were teachin' a class."

Frankie was Dominic Cavello's longtime number two, but in the big boss's absence, he was running the show. On the family chart he was known as the Underboss. He'd been married for thirty years to one of Vito Genovese's nieces. Royalty, Cosa Nostra-style. But not exactly one of the Five Good Emperors. He'd probably ordered ten to twenty murders we couldn't pin him on.

I followed Frank into his office. There was a cheap hardwood desk cluttered with pictures of his family. On the walls there were some cheesy prints of Italy and a signed photo of Derek Jeter eating at one of Frankie's restaurants. A few tubes containing rolled-up architectural plans were leaning against the wall. I smiled. I wasn't sure if Frankie Delsavio had ever been near a construction site in his life.

"So you have to excuse me." He motioned me to sit."I've been out of touch the past few days. Down in Atlantic City, checking out a big site. So tell me"-he grinned, smirking-“how goes the trial?"

"Fuck you, you cockroach," I said, grabbing him by the collar and taking him right out of his leather chair and pushing him against the wall." I want to know where he is. "

A few books and artifacts fell to the floor. The grin on Frank Delsavio's face disappeared. This was not a small man, and no one, not even the cops, pushed him around.

"I invited you in here as a friend, Nicky Smiles. There's about two dozen people out there who don't have much to do in their life. They can blow off your head. You're not even on active duty, Pellisante. You sure you wanna do this now?"

"I asked about Cavello," I said, pushing him harder against the wall.

"How would I know, Nicky? I told you, I've been out of touch. Besides, the Boss doesn't clue me in on every little decision he makes."

"Every little decision." I smiled, the rancor boiling over inside."You know, Frankie, the only reason I never closed you down was because I thought you had the only sense of humor in this shitbag outfit. Otherwise, you'd be waiting for your trial, same as him. But I'll bring you in, Frankie. I could do it tomorrow. There's enough on you, I swear. We'll close this whole operation down. You'll all lose the Beamers, your fat-cat jobs."

"You know what I think, Nicky?" Frankie stared as he spoke. He shook his head at me with a little smile."I don't think you have the clout to do that right now. I don't even think you're on this case. The only reason I let you in here was out of respect to your past position. Now I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of my shirt-before I call in our lawyer down the hall and he slaps you and the Bureau with a harassment suit. That wouldn't go over well in the classroom, would it, Nicky?"

"We're not talking business as usual, Frankie." I tightened my grip."This isn't going away. This is like Bin Laden. You don't want to step anywhere near this shit. I'll give you a week, then I'll do what I promised. I'll shut the whole operation down." I let go of his collar. But I still stared at him."That was a one-year-old kid your boss burned up, Frankie. Coulda been your granddaughter."

Delsavio straightened his shirt collar."I don't know where Dominic Cavello is. And that's the truth. And just for the record, Nicky, no way that could ever be my grandkid. 'Cause I'd never rat him out." Then Delsavio grinned, flexing his shoulders."But if he happens to call in or send me a postcard, I promise, you'll be the first to know. Even before his own wife and kids, Nicky Smiles." He grinned."Anything you want me to tell him, you know, if he should write in?"

"Just this." I smoothed out the mobster's jacket."Tell him I keep my promises, too."

AN HOUR LATER, I was in front of Assistant Director in Charge Michael Cioffi, who ran the FBI's New York office."I want back in," I said.

Cioffi was my boss. He was the one who had placed me on administrative leave after I beat Cavello. Outside of the politicos down in DC, he was one of the most senior people in the FBI.

"Nick." He leaned back in his chair."No one holds you responsible for what happened yesterday."

"That's not what it's about, Mike. Cavello is. And I know more about him than anyone in the Bureau. Besides, we both know I'm a little too late in the game to ever qualify for tenure."

The ADIC smiled. He stood up, stepped over to his office window. You could see Ground Zero from there, the vast, empty space. Beyond it, the Statue of Liberty."So how're the ribs?"

"No harm, no foul." I raised my arms."I get a big fat commendation for being wounded in the line of duty, and I didn't even have to stay overnight."

"That's sort of the problem, Nick." Cioffi smiled again, but this time tightly, his hands against the sill."You weren't exactly in the line of duty. And Ray's been handling this for months now. And right now, the shit's hitting the fan a little."

I stood up, too."This isn't about Ray, Mike. I'll report to him, I don't care. Just put me back on assignment. You need me." I looked at the boss I had served under for eight years." I need it, Mike."

The ADIC looked closely at me. I couldn't quite read him. He stepped back to his desk and picked up a file. It looked like a field report."I heard you paid a visit this morning to a certain union headquarters in New Jersey. You're not on active duty, Nick. You can't go wild, on a whim. We've got our people on this, Nick. They can't be looking over their shoulder."