Down the Hall on Your Left

This site is a blog about what has been coasting through my consciousness lately. The things I post will be reflections that I see of the world around me. You may not agree with me or like what I say. In either case – you’ll get over it and I can live with it if it makes you unhappy. Please feel free to leave comments if you wish . All postings are: copyright 2014 – 2021

Fiction Saturday – And Pull The Hole In After You – Continued

Fiction Saturday  – “And Pull The Hole In After You” – Continued

 Chapter Five

Pull fed officeAt roughly the same time, in an office in the Federal Building, a group of thirty FBI agents was collecting in a 24th floor conference room.  The recessed fluorescent lighting made them all look slightly green.

At the front of the room stood a man with too much gray hair for someone his age.  He was waiting for the arriving people to settle so he could begin.  The people upstairs had handed him an assignment.

“Okay, everybody, listen.  Hey!  The dancing monkey is at the front of the room here.  Pay attention, this is important, and even better, it’s something different.”

The room quieted and thirty men and women focused on the man standing in front of the pull-down projection screen.  Even though it was not yet two in the afternoon his shirt and tie looked like they had been there for several long days.

Special Agent Lawrence Paxton had nineteen and a half years on the job and, the truth be told, his thoughts were now more on his approaching retirement than any new assignment.  He didn’t relish the idea of another case that would have him dragging luggage through half a dozen airports.  His dream was to buy a good-sized boat where he could live and just sail away when things got too complicated. But his boat would have to stay a dream until another day.  There were still more crimes to be investigated, fugitives to be captured and cases to be cleared.

A second agent sat halfway up the center aisle next to a laptop computer.  He would handle the PowerPoint presentation.  Paxton was computer literate enough to handle his everyday needs, but this was something beyond his comfort level, and always would be.

“All Right, folks.”  He clapped his hands once more to get the attention of the crowded room.  “We are looking for someone–a runner and possibly a killer.”

With the push of a mouse button the face of a woman appeared on the screen.

“One Mrs. Beverly Deltino, nee Montini.  Physicals are on the sheets that should be in your hands.  Beverly Deltino is wanted because the DOJ suspects that she may be involved in the possible homicide of one Graciella Lucci, her housekeeper.”

Pull FBIA hand went up near the back of the room.

“Sir, if she just killed her housekeeper why are we involved?”

“We are involved, Mr. Koberski, because the possibly late Ms. Graciella Lucci was, in reality, one Ms. Michaela Frontieri, a special agent of the DEA who was, after much groundwork-laying, infiltrated into the very home of the sought-after Mrs. Deltino.  We’ve tried to get bugs planted, but it’s swept electronically every week.”

“Mrs. Deltino is the wife of – next slide, this man: one Dominic “No colorful nickname” Deltino, a mid-level crew boss and former ‘persuader’ for the Roncalli Family.

“When Agent Frontieri did not report in on schedule on Monday night, we were asked to send our people out to check on her.  She was not in her apartment.  She did not answer her cell phone.  We had to assume that she might still be inside the Deltino house.

“When the opportunity presented itself, on Wednesday of this week, yesterday, we went in, legally, but she wasn’t there.  Everything was very clean.”  His eyes scanned the faces of the young and eager agents in front of him.  “The house was clean because it had been ‘cleaned,’ down to the bullet hole in the refrigerator door.  On Monday night the DEA agents spotted a van nearby being driven by one Mr. Carl Nouri, a known cleaner.  For you newer people, a cleaner is a person who goes in and cleans up after violent and bloody events have taken place.  They are not in our employ.  The DEA folks didn’t stop Nouri because they didn’t have any probable cause.  Thank you, Supreme Court.

“We don’t currently know where Agent Frontieri is located.  We haven’t found her, or more Pull police vanlikely, her body.  Coincidentally, we don’t know where Mrs. Deltino is either.  She has dropped off the radar screen.  We do know that Mrs. Deltino can take care of herself and, on occasion, has beaten the crap out of Mr. Deltino.”  Several female agents in the room let out a small cheer.

“He has returned the favor on many occasions during their years of wedded bliss.” The cheering stopped.

“It is entirely possible, even likely, that Mr. Deltino is personally responsible for Mrs. Deltino’s sudden disappearance from the sidewalks of the tri-state area.  It’s been known to happen.  But still, we’d like to be sure.

“It is reported that Mr. Deltino did not return from a business trip to Philadelphia until sometime on Monday.  Mrs. Deltino and Agent Frontieri were last seen around the time of Dominic’s departure for the City of Brotherly Love on Thursday, give or take a day or so.  We do not have the resources to have a 24/7 surveillance of the Deltino house.  He’s not that big a fish.  So, Mr. Deltino may have come home from Philadelphia earlier than we think and found the agent dead and his wife gone.  Maybe–maybe not.  We don’t know for sure.  We don’t know anything for sure here.

 “Therefore, we suspect that Mrs. Deltino may have firsthand knowledge about Agent Frontieri’s disappearance and may be in hiding or on the run.  Wives are not supposed to kill people.  It sets a very bad precedent.  However, given her aggressive abilities, there is reason to believe that Mrs. Deltino is the person responsible, re Agent Frontieri.

“So, Mrs. Deltino may have killed her, or the lovely Dominic may have killed her or maybe both of them.  Somehow, somebody named Deltino killed one of  the good guys and I want whichever one it was.”

“Jesus, what a mess.” said the man working the computer.

“To be succinct, Agent Ball, ‘Yes.  What a mess’,” said Paxton.

“Scope out all of the wife’s –slide– friends and relatives, the ones not in prison or Hell, and see if she’s popped up by them.  If she’s alive– find her.  Because, if she is alive, you can be sure that Mr. Deltino– slide– is also looking for her.  He punches her out, but he loves her.  He will want his little ‘snookums’ back home where he can beat the crap out of her again.  Of course, if she’s dead too, we’re all just wasting the taxpayer’s money looking for her.

“So, you can see that we have been handed a real hairball of a situation.  Agents in a number of other cities around the country are getting this same briefing.  The Teflon suits in D.C. want this lady– slide– and they want her bad.  They hate it when an agent is killed, but not as much as I hate it.”

“One last thing,” said Paxton.  “If Mrs. Deltino is alive and on the run, she will be very tough to find.  She is the daughter of –slide–  Giani Montini.”  Someone in the room let out a soft whistle.  “She grew up inside the Mob.  Slide– Big Paul Castellano was her Godfather, her real Godfather.  Her Daddy told her bedtime stories about– slide– Meyer Lansky, and her three bears all packed heat.

“She’s smart, she knows both worlds, is well connected, and, if cornered, she will put an ice pick in your eye.”

Pull icepick



To Be Continued 2

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2 thoughts on “Fiction Saturday – And Pull The Hole In After You – Continued

  1. I thought you were going to extend these Chapters…..make them longer because of the volume…..or something. But you’re good, John, you know just when to quit. That’s admirable, but the suspense just keeps growing. By the way, in the short story I’m working on I also have a beautiful young lady that “fell from radar”, and a couple of FBI Agents. Mine are not all fiction, though, and neither is the story line. My Brother is a retired Agent, 35 years. Worked for J. Edgar. Some of the stories!! Disappointing though. Most of it I can’t include, but I find ways to hedge.

    Waiting for next Saturday is taxing on the old noggin, by the way. I guess that’ the way “Serials” are suppose to work.


  2. I can’t believe I was away and missed this one. Wow! On to chapter six. The phone had better not ring.


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