"Hi Mama," I yelled as I walked through the front door of my old house.
"Giuseppe! Come in, dear. Are you hungry?" Mama greeted me in typical Italian fashion.
"Always when it's your cooking," I said, hugging her tight and planting a kiss on her cheek.
"You naughty boy, you haven't visited me in ages. What's been happening?", she said as she went back to stirring her Calabrese sauce.
"Not a lot; just more cases, more paperwork," I replied casually as I sat down at the same table that had always been there. Aside from the new paint on the walls, the place hadn't changed much.
"You work too hard, you know. Josie must never see you," Mama sighed, putting a bowl of pasta in front of me, with some shredded parmesan next to it.
"Josie's fine, Mama," I said. "Not long now, and she'll be giving you your next grandkid."
A lot had happened in the ten years since Papa had died. I'd gone to the police academy, scoring top of my class in everything, especially in firearms efficiency. It helped that every time I looked at a target I imagined it was the face of that snake Callipari.
After graduation, I'd been assigned to Mildura at first, which the family hadn't liked, being so far away. I had enjoyed it though; the country air, working with a good bunch of people and getting to know most of the community within a couple of months.
But then I'd risen through the ranks quicker than most officers, making sergeant within three years. I moved back to Melbourne then, working at different stations. Not long after, I'd made detective, scoring a place at Collingwood.
I'd married Josie O'Riley, the girl I'd kissed in high school, two years after I made detective. Mama had not approved at first, but when she met Josie and saw how fiery she could be, just like her, she had instantly liked Josie and welcomed her to the family.
Josie was pregnant with our first child; she was only six weeks along. I loved everything about her, from her red hair and freckles (which she hated) to her fiery nature. She certainly never took any shit from anybody.
Working in the old neighbourhood was extremely different to Mildura, especially the way I was treated by the people and the amount of corruption among my fellow cops. I'd always known there was some - half the people who ran market stalls back in the day had paid bribes to the cops - but the amount I saw these days was astounding.
The attitude from a lot of the neighbourhood, especially my fellow Italians, was astounding. These were people I'd known since I was a kid, who had always been good to the family, and they turned on me because of my job.
They saw me locking up fellow Italians as traitorous, no matter what these gangsters did; illegal gambling, standover, everything. I was getting dirty looks and muttered curses from men who had been friends with my family.
And it wasn't just me - these same people would tell Mama and Cat (now married with three kids) that I was a traitor to my own people. But they just took it in their stride.
When the opportunity came to transfer to Geelong CIB, I took it, seeing a way of getting away from the crap that was continually piled on me. I'd been at Geelong ever since, which again meant I didn't see Mama as much as I wanted to. But Josie and I were settled in Geelong and we loved living there.
I hadn't given up on my word that one day I would make Callipari pay, but it had been put on hold. Callipari, now in his late 60's, had fled to Italy to avoid a prison sentence on a drug bust, and it looked like he planned to stay there.
The old man had upped his game; his group now ran everything from prostitution to drugs to illegal gambling. They even had interests in the marijuana crops in Griffith; a big step-up from running the protection rackets at the Vic Market.
They had already started losing the market territory to the Chinese gangs, who were taking over everything. The main base for the Chinese was the Footscray markets, but they were slowly getting their fingers in more and more pies in the organised crime world.
Every day at my office in Geelong I longed for a chance to bust just one of his operations, and two months ago I got my chance.
I was asked to join a small taskforce that was closing down his brothels in St Kilda; Vito Bonatti, one his oldest capos, was running that slice of the operation, making a heavy profit. The vicious bastard and his goons kept the girls in line with drugs and beatings; most of them were strung-out within a month of working for him.
We operated multiple raids on all the brothels, finding huge quantities of drugs, and many cases of forced rape against the girls. Most of them were too scared to testify, but one, Tiffany, was brave enough.
Thanks to her, we put Bonatti away for over 30 years; she had to go into Witness Protection.
I reflected on everything Mama was put through by the neighbours as I ate my lunch. She was such a pillar of strength, always taking whatever they threw at her.
"Any more hassles from those idiots?"
"Oh, don't worry about them, Giuseppe," Mama assured me. "I'm proud of your career, and you don't take the dirty money like many others. That's all that matters."
I agreed with her there. I hadn't always followed exact police policy when I worked cases, but I had never been on the take. I did my job without fear or favour and I took my oath seriously. I didn't care what anyone else thought, only my family.
YOU ARE READING
Snake in the Grass - Rewrite
General FictionGiuseppe "Joe" Calabrese grew up in Melbourne among the Onorata Società, a branch of the ‛Ndrangheta, knowing them as neighbours and family friends; not the vicious Mafia thugs the media says they are. As he grows up, he truly sees them more and mor...