Free Known Devil by Matthew Hughes

True Dead with a couple of silver bullets in the brain.”
    I stirred some sugar into my coffee. “Instead, I killed two of them and let him leave the scene afterwards.”
    I was exaggerating my body count by fifty per cent, but there was no reason why these guys had to know that.
    Calabrese pulled his arm from Loquasto’s grasp. “Forget that wire bullshit,” he said.
    Then he turned to me. “These motherfuckers making a move on me are out of Philly – the Delatasso Family.”
    “Philly, huh?” Karl said. Not exactly next door.” Philadelphia’s about a two-and-a-half hour drive south from Scranton.
    “Compared to the kind of action they’ve got down in Philly,” I said, “Scranton’s got to be pretty small potatoes.”
    “It ain’t Charlie Delatasso who’s trying to expand,” Calabrese said. “It’s the son, Ronnie.”
    “With his father’s blessing, of course,” Loquasto said.
    “Sounds like a young man in a hurry,” I said. “How old is he, anyway?”
    “Thirty-nine, I believe,” Loquasto said.
    “Eldest son?” I asked.
    “ Only son,” Loquasto told me.
    “I don’t get it,” Karl said. “Why would he take all the risks involved in starting a war – and so far from home, besides? Shit, all he’s gotta do is wait.”
    “That’s right,” I said. “Sooner or later, the old man’s either gonna croak – from either too much linguine or multiple gunshot wounds – or get sent up for a long stretch. Either way, the kid gets to take over.”
    Calabrese gave me an indulgent smile. “Didn’t you know?” he said. “Delatasso the elder came over, about four years ago.”
    I stared at him. “Came… You mean he’s undead?”
    “That’s exactly what he is,” Calabrese said.
    “Our sources say Don Charles had a heart attack,” Loquasto said. “Apparently you were right about all the linguine. He recovered eventually, but the close look he got at the Grim Reaper frightened him – enough so that he took steps to postpone indefinitely any future visits.”
    I nodded slowly. “I think I begin to see the problem.”
    “Me, too,” Karl said. “The old man, if he’s careful, could live a long, long time. And even if junior got turned, too, he still has to wait… and wait.”
    “Oh, he has been,” Loquasto said. “Delatasso told everyone in his Family that they could either change, or leave. That edict included his son, who, as you pointed out, Detective, will nonetheless have a very long wait before he can take over the business.”
    “Unless he takes steps to move things along,” I said. “That’s not exactly unheard of.”
    “Not gonna happen,” Calabrese said. “In some Families, maybe. But from what I hear, Ronnie is everything a father could want in a son. He loves his old man – worships him, even.”
    “There’s a more pragmatic issue for young Mister Delatasso to deal with as well,” Loquasto said. “His father is very popular among his soldiers and the other members of the Family. Apparently the Don has been generous in distributing the profits of his various enterprises among his employees. I also understand he possesses a great deal of personal charm.”
    “So,” Karl said, “if the kid bumped off his old man and tried to take over…”
    “He would likely face vengeance at the hands of his father’s former associates,” Loquasto said. “All of which makes a takeover very unlikely.”
    “So Junior’s feeling his oats and wants to make a name for himself,” I said. “And to do that, he’s gotta branch out.”
    “And the little cocksucker picked Scranton,” Calabrese said.
    I refilled my coffee cup. The stuff they served here wasn’t as good as McGuire’s Jamaican Blue Mountain, but it wasn’t half bad.
    “Waging a war’s expensive,” I said. “And over a hundred miles from home, too. It must be costing the old man a fortune.”
    “It would, if he were paying for it,” Loquasto said. “His preference is for Ronnie to stay at home and