Bad Apple by Anthony Bruno Read Free Book Online Page A

who’s not afraid to make some money. No hard feelings.”
    The little capo’s mouth snapped back to a short line. He turned his wrist over and started to punch out numbers on the calculator in his wristwatch. His delicate little fingers had no trouble with the minuscule keypad. Every time he’d get a tally, he’d stare at it for a second, then clear it and start all over again. He did this at least a half-dozen times in a row. Bells watched, grinning like he knew something Buddha didn’t.
    â€œAll right,” Buddha finally said, his voice soft and suddenly sleepy.
    Bells nodded as if he knew all along what the outcome would be.
    Buddha pointed down at the blue and yellow backpack. “I know this money came from you, Bells. I don’t care what you say. If you wanna stick your neck out for this DeFresco kid, that’s your business. But my business is making money. You believe in these two guys so much, fine. I’ll give ’em what they want, but it’s gonna be at a point and a half a week, and you are responsible for them. You understand me? They fall behind in the vig, you pay it. They screw up, they skip town, they blow it at the track, I don’t give a shit. It’s your problem. You understand? If they don’t pay up, then it’s your headache.”
    Bells looked him in the eye. “And who in his right mind is gonna collect from me?”
    Buddha leaned into his face and stared back at him. “Don’t flatter yourself, my friend. You’re not the only freak in this business.”
    Tozzi was confused. Freak? What was that supposed to mean?
    â€œYou’re hurting my feelings, Buddha.”
    â€œI don’t give a fuck about your feelings. All I care about is the green. And so do you.”
    Bells shrugged. “Money can’t buy me love.” He laughed at his own statement.
    Buddha stood up. “Tell your porno friends they can have the money. If I were you, though, I’d get some collateral out of them. Remember, they’re your responsibility.”
    Bells stared up at him. “I never forget anything, Buddha. You know that.”
    The capo didn’t answer. Instead he reached over the table and rearranged the salt and pepper shakers, putting them back where they’d been, next to the bowl full of sugar packets and the Heinz catsup bottle. He headed for the back door then, and two of his four gorillas rushed ahead to get it for him. The other two brought up the rear as the little capo walked out with the blue and yellow backpack under his arm.
    Tozzi put the glass down on the sink and flushed the toilet. He ran some water and washed his hands. When he unlocked the eyehook and opened the door, Bells was slumped down in his seat, his arms laid out on the table, palms down. He was staring straight ahead, lost in thought.
    Tozzi took a tentative step toward him. “You okay, Bells?”
    The loan shark nodded like a robot, then suddenly stared up at Tozzi and grinned. “Yeah, I’m okay. How about you?”
    Tozzi shrugged. “Fine.”
    Bells stared out into space again. “I got some good news for you guys.”
    The toilet was still running back in the men’s room.

FIVE
9:02 A.M.
    Tozzi stared out the window at the lower Manhattan skyline across the choppy, steel-gray waters of the harbor. He could hear the shower going upstairs, Freshy singing some stupid rap song about shaking his body, shaking his body. The choppy waves reminded Tozzi of swirls of frosting on a chocolate layer cake, and that made him think about food again. He was tired, hung over, and starving, and there wasn’t a solid thing to eat in this house because Freshy’s parents were spending the week down in Atlantic City, and Freshy would never think of something as obvious as buying groceries. Tozzi had already packed the garbage pail with rotten moldy stuff he’d found in the refrigerator in his useless search for