Free Sal Gabrini: His House of Cards by Mallory Monroe Page A

that person.   I hate to admit it.   I would rather die than admit it.   But that prick you just saw was exactly who I
was.”
    “And
somebody’s trying to take advantage of who you used to be,” Gemma said.   Then she thought about it.   “Maybe it was somebody in that squad room,”
she suggested.   “Who else would have this
recording?   And why was it being recorded
to begin with?”
    Sal had no
answers to give her.   It was hard enough
just knowing she had to witness him at his lowest.   But she needed to see it.   She needed to know how the public would
perceive it because he knew it wasn’t going to be perceived as anything but
what it was: a racist cop on a racist rant about how he brutalized a minority
suspect.   Pure and simple.  
    But when
Gemma took his hand anyway, and whispered that she loved him despite his past,
he knew he was going to weather this storm too.

 
    The next
evening and Blanche Delilah wrapped her shawl tighter around her slender frame
as she and Victor Grotski waited in a beat up sedan. “How much longer, Victor?”
she asked.   “This shit is boring.   I don’t want to spend my entire evening
sitting in this smelly car.   How much
longer?”
    The car was
sitting idle in the parking lot across the street.   Victor had binoculars.   “As long as it takes,” he said, staring out
of those binoculars.   “That’s how much
longer.”
    “That’s not
an answer.”
    “Then shut
the hell up,” he said, and looked at her.   “You think I’m doing this for my health?   They tell me what to do.   I tell
you what to do.   That’s how it works.”
    But Blanche
wasn’t interested in how it worked.   They
were across the street from Gemma Jones-Gabrini’s law firm, and had been
sitting for nearly three hours in that beat-up sedan.   Many people had come and gone, but their
target hadn’t even arrived.   The idea
that this would be as easy as Victor was making it out to be didn’t ring true
to her.   “If I’m going to do this,” she
said, “I want to be paid up front.”
    “You get
paid when the job is done,” Victor declared.   “Who do you think you are?   These
people aren’t playing, Blanche.   They
expect results.   They expect you to get
this right.   They have this planned to
the last detail.”
    Blanche
looked at Victor.   Her eyes were wide
with curiosity.   “Who are they ?” she asked.   “And why can’t I meet them if I’m going to
put myself out like this?”
    “You just do
your job.   Let me worry about the rest.”
    “But you
know how Sal is, Victor.   He’ll kill me
if this doesn’t work.”
    “Why
wouldn’t it work?   It’s the truth!   You were his kept woman and his wife didn’t
know.   It’s high time she found out.”
    “But what if
she already knows and this is a waste of time?   What if Sal told her?”
    “Get the
fuck outta here!   I told you what kind of
woman she is.   She’s a lawyer and she’s
black.   She’s not going to take all that
shit Sal’s been slinging and still be with him.   She knows nothing about what he really does when he’s out of her
sight.   Sal won’t come at you.   He’ll be too busy trying to hold onto her.”
    “You talk
like he loves the bitch.”   Blanche looked
at her.   “Sal doesn’t love anybody but
his brother Tommy.   And you know it.”
    “He loves
his wife,” Victor said.   “I know that.”
    Blanche
didn’t like to hear that kind of talk.   She
still had a soft spot for Sal.   But
Victor was her man now.   She had to keep
the peace.   “I don’t get it,” she decided
to say.   “Why would her knowing what kind
of sleaze ball Sal is help anything?   Who
cares?”
    “Rudy
cares,” Victor said, and then looked at her as if he had just revealed a
secret.   “That’s who.”
    Blanche’s
heartbeat quickened.   A puzzled look
appeared on her face.   “Rudy?   Rudy Red?   Rudy is behind this?”
    Victor
wasn’t supposed to