Crawford: The Gotti Case

Chapter I: Hard Lessons

January 12, 1986

Detective Crawford, she says, as she approaches me with empathy and a bit of flirty symptoms surrounding her facial expressions. I've never been that kind of guy, I was raised by a loving family as far as I remember so I wouldn't go too far into her words without a drink or a dinner first. 

¨I've heard plenty of your work back in Detroit, mind if we talk about it a little more privately?¨ she says.

 I look at her up and down, smile, and keep walking. New York isn't the city they told me about, it's filled with rage and ambition, not even the kind of ambition everyone dreams about. Sure, maybe a couple of cars and a big house with a loving family by your side would be nice. On the other hand, these people we're talking about needed more praise, and more than that, they needed power. Of course, I'm talking about the mafia, this type of hard motherfuckers wouldn't go down so easily even if you wanted to, by reaching a head and blowing it up, you would only start a battle, as a result of that, you'd get a couple more heads in the place where the last head was sitting. That's why they needed someone hard, someone who wouldn't hesitate to do this and more. The big question here is why would they choose a rookie detective like me. Why not get one of the big fellows already working for them to start this job? I guess the answer to my question was always in front of me: No one wants to mess with these guys, not even the ¨Big Fellas¨ they've got. So why not get some fresh meat and send it to war with these assholes and see what comes out of it. The difference is, that I'm not a common gentleman, I'd go as far as I can to get these answers and more. For now, I head down to my office, to find a small 4'square feet cubicle to work, and it isn't the most comfortable place back here at the station, I see even a cockroach staring at me, begging me to get her out of her misery, fuck me, not even a cockroach wants to be in this city. I must settle down, I look down at my wife's picture, I dream about her every single day and it keeps me fighting for this goddamn world. Without her, I'd be nothing, and without her, I am nothing. Cecile was born back in Italy, where everything seemed to be perfect, although the only part of the perfection of Italy that I can think of is her. She was raised by an abusive father, an abused mother, and as a result, a couple of troubled brothers who ended up being part of the complete other side of the fence. Pietro and Emerito, young bloods who wanted to have everything in this world, ended up at the hands of the mob, praising and worshipping those assholes as much as their dad did. But who am I to judge? I want the same thing, of course on different terms, but at what cost? Anyways, my first real job is ahead of me and I must figure out a way to lose everything I've got, without losing it at the same time. The name? John Joseph Gotti. Ever heard of him? I bet you've had. Part of the Gambino family, Teflon Don gained popularity by making a hit at the crime boss at the moment last year, none other than Paul Castellano, he didn't fail of course. I'll tell you how I know that, I've done some research on this specific fella and he isn't up to any games. He even got lose of the nickname he had, he now goes by the name of ¨Dapper Don¨, he's always been a luxurious motherfucker, he knows that, and he's okay with that, luxury cars, women, designer clothes, you name it, he has it. I see Detective Jones approaching my desk, he seems desperate to find some help, so I look straight into his eyes, something tells me there must be some trouble in his head, but I can't seem to figure out what's going on.

 ¨You need some help Jones¨ I say.

 ¨Do I look like I need some help rookie? Come help me, I've just walked up the stairs and dragged all this by myself. Come help get the rest of it, it's back in the alley.¨ He replies.

Something about the alley didn't sound so convincing to me, although I usually follow my instinct, I'm not going to make him do that by himself, besides, he's my partner, isn't he? What could go wrong? I walk down the stairs, and I follow him to the ally, everything seems to be fine, I forgot my gun upstairs but it should only be a couple of minutes down here. I hear the sound of a .357 Magnum behind my left ear and all of a sudden I wake up in a mansion, with a big headache and a drop of dry blood by my forehead, I look to my right side, Jones is still unconscious, it looks like a basement, I see bodies hanging upside down like pieces of meat, as I look over the whole place we're in some sort of giant fridge, I'm not gonna lie, it's freezing in here and lets not even discuss the odor. I kick Jones in his thigh, maybe a bit too much to the center for his liking, or anyone's, to be honest. He wakes up immediately, I can see he's dizzy as well, 

¨I know bud, let it in, I've been there¨ I say, to which he replies: ¨Motherfucker you trynna destroy my balls or wake me up? Jesus!¨. ¨Glad to see you're okay as well¨, I reply.

 We hear some steps coming from behind us, we look at each other fearing it will be the last time we'll be seeing each other or anyone at all. I can feel the cruelty in the room, all the souls left behind in the basement and I can't help to think we'll be going down the same path. 

¨Hey asshole! Don't you think they're looking for us already?¨ screams Jones. 

¨I don't seem to think you understand what's really going on over here my fratello.¨ says in a very calm, but menacing voice the man from behind.

¨I don't know what kind of deal you had with other kinds of people but that's not who I am, I'd rather die than work for a man like you.¨ I said (although I was clearly shitting my pants and he knew that).

¨I can respect that, but you must also understand that I have to make a statement, and call it a welcoming to the neighborhood. Also, I'll be keeping this picture I found in your pocket for my own enjoyment if you don't mind. I'm a bit into redhead ragazzas. Please understand me.¨ he said.

 ¨But there is something I respect about you my boys, both of you had what others lack. Can you guess what that is?¨ he said.

 ¨A big ass forehead that's gonna break that big ass nose of yours when I get off this shit?¨ said Jones. 

¨Almost, but no. Balls, my friends, you have balls. And I cannot take that away from both of you¨ he said. ¨What do you mean by both of us?¨ I said.

¨Well you see, I'll have to take one from each or both from one, but I'll let you decide with a game of mine, let's call it ¨The Italian Roulette¨. Whoever stands last, gets to keep what makes him a man. A fist-to-fist fight, to make it fair.¨ he states. 

I look at Jones, he doesn't seem so convinced about beating the shit out of each other, and I wouldn't do it as well. But as soon as I'm about to say something, Jones looks at him, which I cannot recognize in the darkness of the area his currently standing. Just as Jones is about to speak, he gets agitated, takes a step behind, and says 

¨He's about to bitch, cut his finger.¨ the man says.

 Jones screams at him one last phrase before I get knocked down: ¨Come at me pasta eating mother-¨.