Free Murder Takes Time by Giacomo Giammatteo Page B

Those hawk eyes he was known for burned into Mikey the Face. “You laid the money down. It was a bet.”
    My pride turned instantly to fear. Face would kill him for this. “Pops, it’s all right. I—”
    “Stay out of this,” he said. His eyes never left The Face.
    I shook, not knowing what to expect, certain only that Pops would be killed. I’ll go get Doggs.
    Bugs tugged on my arm, whispering like we did in church. “Nicky, you see what I’m seeing? Face is scared shitless of your old man.”
    I nodded but said nothing. No one made a move to help Face or back his play. Not Tucks, or Pockets, not even The Whale.
    Face yanked the bills out of his pocket and threw them at Tony. “Put it on number five.” He moved to the other side of the yard, mumbling. “What the fuck’s two bills anyway?”
    When people saw Mikey bet so much on number five, many of them followed. Soon we had almost four hundred bet on that one roach. Just as Tony was about to close the book and get Suit to announce the third race, a voice rang out from the back. “Don’t close the betting.”
    I turned to see Sister Mary Thomas, her smile as bright as the sunshine. Tony looked up at me, as if to ask, “what the hell” and I shrugged. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for Moses, then she handed a one-dollar bill to Tony.
    “Anthony, I would like to bet on number one, please. To win.”
    Tony smiled, wrote it down and took her money. “You got it, Sister.”
    She leaned toward him and whispered, “You should close the betting on number five.”
    He nodded, then looked at her as if he forgot something. She leaned close, and he whispered, “Sister, if you’ve got any juice upstairs, ask God to hold back on number five.”
    “Anthony Sannullo,” she said, as if indignant, then winked at him and walked over to stand beside Mrs. Donovan.
    “Fix is in,” Tony whispered to Bugs.
    Suit whistled, alerting them of the third race, then he put the coffee can on the ground. I made the “sign of the cross,” whispering in Latin while I waited for the lid to come off. “Go.” Tony shouted, and the roaches scattered. Like every other race, number five broke for the front, heading straight toward Sister Thomas. Numbers two and six were close behind. I heard a shout from the crowd and looked in the other direction to see good old number nine crossing the finish line. I could have kissed that roach.
    In ten seconds, it was over. Number nine won, with number five coming in second, ensuring us of a very successful day. Face tore up his handwritten ticket and stormed out of the yard. Once he was gone, Pops headed for home. I ran to him, threw my arms around his waist. “Thanks, Pops. I can’t believe what you did.”
    He tousled my hair. “Sometimes you have to stand up for what is right. Mikey was wrong. I reminded him, that’s all.”
    We had three more races then closed down because one of the Donovan girls stepped on two of the roaches before Bugs could collect them. Two more got hurt legs when he scooped them up. That didn’t leave enough for good betting. After everyone left, and after we cleaned up the Schmidts’ yard, we went to my house and counted the winnings.
    “Six hundred ten bucks.” Suit said.
    “That’s…”
    “One twenty-two each,” Tony said. “I’m saving mine.”
    “I’m buying clothes,” Bugs said.
    “Clothes? You got enough for three people now.”
    “Hey, screw you. I like nice clothes, okay?”
    “I’m buying my brothers a shirt so Mom don’t have to iron so much.”
    “That’s doesn’t have to iron. You let Sister Thomas hear that grammar and she’ll kick your ass.”
    “You let her hear that mouth and she’ll do worse,” Pops hollered from the other room.
    “Sorry, Pops.”
    “What about you, Nicky? What are you buying?” Tony asked.
    “I don’t know.”
    Tony laughed. “Yes, you do. I can tell by that look in your eyes.” He punched me in the arm.
    “Haven’t decided.”
    Tony stared at