Chapter 60

Giovanni POV: 

We had started building a case against Domencio with proof that he had a history of tax evasion it was an easy start, for my cooperation and hard work I was given clemency for any alleged smuggling. Domenico had put the accounts in the name of shell corporations of course. However, those are the shell corporations he also uses to cover up his drug ring. This time his name was attached to the accounts and Blake had managed to obtain surveillance footage of Domenico at the bank. 

The detective was in an egregiously good mood, and though it was quite infuriating I understood why. He had been trying to pin one of us down for over five years, instead, he'd been caught running circles in a gang war. Now he had proof, he could take one of us down. If I enjoyed his little good boy attitude I would tell him that when Domenico goes so do I, but where's the fun in that?

It was slow to find the connections between him and the shell corporations, especially given that Domenico had become a master at hiding himself, but they were there. Our biggest hurdle right now was getting one of his higher-ups to flip on him. They were the ones with their names attached to the accounts and the corporations, Domenci had been known to let his lessers take the fall for him. Somehow the morons who worked for him still believed in loyalty, they would die for him. We had to convince them otherwise and explain how expendable they were. 

The plan was simple pick one of them up for a small crime and tell him that Domenico was soon to fall and he was the guy who would be the one thrown under the bus this time. With Internal Affairs in town, we had to make sure everything was above board so I was an official, as they called it, C.I., confidential informant. It meant that everybody knew the Detective was now working with me. 

He had been in a horrible mood the next day as his comrades made fun of him for our blossoming friendship. They had made t-shirts, and he had refused to show me what they said but I was still very amused and thankful for their comedy. 

The trouble with arresting one of Domenico's higher-up men, is Domenico would go feral the second he was in cuffs. He had to be held in seclusion, and we had to wait for a lawyer or be able to talk to him for long enough without one. Domenico tried to go to bat for the men who could put him away, which aided the illusion he cared. 

None of them wanted to realize that if he was in trouble they would drop like flies, so he could keep his throne. The difference between good and evil was hard to see in the midst of all the rewards, but if they knew what true loyalty was like they'd never give in. Somewhere in their weasel brains they knew they were in danger, they would give in at some point, and turn on him. 

We decided on Hector Fraccini a big fumbling mop of a man, his hair was greased from too much product, his stomach bubbled over the top of his pants from too much food, and his breath reeked from too much liquor. He indulged himself at every corner life presented, and he cared only for what the world could present him. 

A long-time follower of the Caputo family's vicious tendencies, and a long-time abuser of their power. Hector enjoyed a very comfortable life for doing practically nothing, the one thing he was good at was belittling others. I remember he was in hot water some years ago when his mother a devout Christian went against him on the stand, saying she didn't know how the son she'd raised had ended up like this. According to Mosley, they had to smuggle her out of the city and into witness protection for fear of her son's wrath. He was a real gem. 

With Fraccini it wouldn't take long to find him doing something he could be arrested for, he was a brutish bully, and even with cops back in line the ones in town didn't want him showing up at three in the morning to burn down their houses. To them, only an idiot would pick up Fraccini, and luckily Detective Mosley was as willing as ever. 

We got him on shoplifting, of course, my men happened to have particular disdain for Faccini and when they heard he was our target, they came forward with all the information they knew about him. He had a habit of going into a Bakery on Twelfth Street and swiping his morning pastries without paying. The owners had interceeded only once and Fraccini had broken the elder brother's hand. 

Mosley went in behind him and picked him up the second he turned without paying, dropping the cuffs and putting them on him instantly. He dragged him into the precinct like the catch of the day hauling him in kicking and screaming. The list of things Fraccini threatened to Mosley was a mile long and rather distasteful, even I, who had no love for the boy scout, thought a few went beyond the measure. 

I got to watch from behind the glass, special perks of the detective being in the federal team. I crossed my arms and watched the cocky ass lean back in his chair a ballsy move for the flimsy thing. He stared down his nose at the federal agent who sat there taking his time gathering his materials, knowing it would bother Hector. 

"Now Misterrrrrr ah Franscini-," 

"Fraccini" 

"Franci," 

"Fraccini" 

"Frascini," 

"Franc!" He slammed his hand down on the table before busting out laughing and wagging a finger at the detective. "You're good, pretty boy," He laughed again running his hands down his shirt. "What do you want eh?" 

Mosley slid the photo of Domenico at the bank in front of him. "You know where this is?" Mosley tapped the photo. 

The confidence evaporated from the greaseball as he realized what we had. He knew this was the big one, his hands reached out and touched the photo. "I've got no clue," He quickly put on a flash bravado and threw the picture back at the detective. 

"No clue?" The Detective clicked his tongue. "Well, that's funny cause it's in the name of a corporation you are chairman of Mr. Franchi," 

He shrugged not saying another word. 

"I see," Detective Mosley grinned and sat down. "Now, you know and I know, you're not smart enough to be the chairman of a global corporation, let's face it you're not smart enough to pay for a Danish. We know that Dominic Caputo is behind this, give him up and work with us and you won't spend the rest of your life in federal prison for tax evasion," 

More silence. 

"I know that you believe Domenic will save you, but he won't, you are the perfect fall guy for him. He will set you up, he already has. You are just too stupid to see it," The detective let him stew in his words for a moment. 

"Still nothing? Okay, let's see how long it takes for Domenic to throw you overboard," Mosley stood and turned heading for the door. 

'Domenico," Fraccini corrected. 

"What was that?" He leaned forward. 

"His name is Domenico," Fraccini repeated. 

"You see I thought you didn't know anything," Mosley leaned over the table and Fraccini sat forward realizing he'd slipped up. "You wanna know how this goes, you're gonna sit there until you remember," 

"You can't do that I got rights," Fraccini shot back. 

Mosley laughed. "We've totaled up the number of items you've stolen over the years from the Anker Bakery, well beyond felony arrest. You're going to prison which means I can hold you as long as I want," 

He sat there dumbfounded as the detective walked out. We'd let him stew a minute as long as we could before Caputo's lawyers arrived, always there to soften the blow. We just had to stop them from talking, Fraccini would give up anything if he sat here long enough.