Snake in the Grass - Rewrite

Chapter 7

After that, it was all up from there. Over the next seven months, I made Callipari so much extra money, he didn't know how to spend it.

He was very pleased, continually coming to the office and congratulating me on our mutual success. He would often bring wine and small dishes of meat, cheese and olives, which he would share with me as he told me stories of his youth and rise to power.

He liked me so much he began to invite me to his house regularly. He had a large mansion in Kew, where he lived with his third wife, a 27 year old model. I had to admire the old man's ability to keep going at his age, but had no doubt he had help from the little blue pills.

His first wife, Donnatella, had died in childbirth, and his son Michael was raised by his second wife, Roberta, who had originally been the boy's nanny. Both Roberta and Michael were killed by a rival family when Michael was 17. Callipari had taken his revenge by taking the men responsible out to sea on his large fishing boat and drowning them by dropping them in the water with their legs chained to large chunks of concrete.

Over the next six months, Callipari began to see me not only as a friend, but we got along so well he started to develop a father-like affection towards me. When we finished meetings or my visits to his house, he would always pat me on the cheek, the same way he had when I was a child.

Soon, I began to be invited to head up other businesses of his - aside from the loans business, I also was put in charge of distribution for his bootlegging, ran the books for two of his brothels, and one day he even made me a partner in the shipping business.

His father-like love for me was solidified when I saved his life - we were walking to his car one day when two men approached and began to open fire.

Throwing Callipari to the ground, I stood in front of him and fired my own gun in return; I didn't kill either of them, but managed to hit them both, one in the arm and the other in the leg. They scarpered after that, and never came back.

Thanks to the cleverly-hidden wire in my wristwatch, which I never took off, information on all this criminal activity was being constantly relayed to Kelly and his boys at Organised Crime.

I received a message from one of them saying that a multi-raid was being organised and would happen within a couple of weeks.

I had almost forgotten my oath to avenge my father; the eagerness to put Callipari behind bars sort of replaced it. I wanted to see the look on the bastard's face when we slapped the cuffs on him.

But there came a time when I definitely wanted to kill him; I was lucky to keep my anger in check and not respond.

One day while we ate lunch at his house, the old man said to me: "I truly am happy with the way you have come up, my boy. You certainly haven't made the mistakes your fool of a father made."

Inside, I was bristling with rage, but I somehow managed to bury it down, and responded with an acknowledging nod and "Mm".

"I mean, it is terrible what happened to him, believe me. He was a good friend of mine, and I wish I could have helped. But he was a fool for refusing to pay off those bastards in the Peroni Family."

The Peroni Family were a Sicilian Cosa Nostra group based in St Kilda, and though Callipari sometimes did business with them, it was no secret he and Marco Peroni hated each other. It had been two of Peroni's men who had killed his wife and son.

"So the Peronis were responsible for my father's death, then?" I asked.

"Yes, son. But don't worry; I took revenge on the two who killed him, and fed the remains to the pigs on my uncle's farm." The old man continued his lies.

I was so pissed off, I wanted to pull out my gun and shoot the bastard right then and there.

But I kept my anger down; I knew the job had to come before my personal feelings.

The next day, I secretly met up with one of Kelly's men in a cafe in Lygon St. He told me the search warrants for Callipari's businesses had all been authorised, and the raids would begin in two days.

Once they had shut down all his ventures, they would get a warrant for the old man's arrest. He would be put on federal charges and I was assured he wouldn't be granted bail.

The raids all went down without a hitch, and I was "arrested" while in one of the brothel offices, working on the books. I knew that the cops would be arresting him the next day, so I just had to keep my head down until then.

Callipari personally bailed me out, as well as his consigliere Santino Bonatti (son of Vito) and two of his most trusted capos. He was extremely angry when I met up with him at his office, along with Santino and the two capos, brothers John and Sal D'Angelo.

These were the only three men the old man trusted as much as me, more in the case of Sal. The D'Angelo brothers were not only capos, they were two of his oldest friends and confidants. In fact, before I came along, Sal had been the favourite to take over the Family when Callipari retired.

"There's only one way this could have happened. Someone has dogged on us! Someone has gone to the cops and squealed like a pig!"

Suddenly, he reached into his desk and pulled out a gun; I was terrified, thinking this was it.

To my surprise, and to a small extent, relief he turned around and shot Sal D'Angelo in the head.

"He was the only one, other than you, who could have done it, Giuseppe. And I trust you more than anything."

While the others took Sal's body outside, he asked me to stay behind, as he wanted to tell me something.

"As you know, Giuseppe, I have no son to take over control of the Family's interest when I retire. I love and trust you like you were my own son, and I want you to be the one."

Mustering all the fake sincerity I could, I thanked the old man profusely, taking his hand in mine and kissing his diamond ring.

He said he would begin my training to be a Don next week. As I went home that night thinking how great his arrest would be tomorrow.