Gangster by Lorenzo Carcaterra Read Free Book Online

corruption-riddled New York City Police Department had been inclined to investigate tenement and bar murders, it could have pinned Ida the Goose's name next to at least six.
        Don't even think about a run, Ida told Pudge, who was about to bolt down the street. I can shoot you in the back just as easy as in the chest.
        I ain't gonna run, Pudge said, meekly shaking his head.
        Help that boy to his feet, Ida ordered. Then bring him into the Cafe. There's a back room with a long table over near the kitchen. Put him on that. And wait there with him till I get back.
        Where you goin'? Pudge asked, his eyes growing wider as Ida the Goose walked toward him.
        The boy needs a doctor. Ida stared down at him with a set of ocean-blue eyes. Come the end of the day, you might, too. It seems like a good idea for me to go find one. You got any other questions for me?
        No, Pudge said.
        Then get out of my way, Ida said. And go do what I told you.
        Ida the Goose lifted the front lip of her long brown skirt and moved past Pudge, ignoring the small crowd, heading up toward Broadway and an alcoholic doctor who owed her money and a favor.
       
         *     *     *
       
    GANGSTERS, IF THEY are shaped by anyone at all, are chiseled by the women in their early lives. Angelo's childhood models were Josephina and Ida the Goose, two women whose guidance and nurturing were bound to lead him down but one path. He didn't have a family of his own, other than his father, Mary said. So he made one from the people he met. Josephina became his grandmother, Pudge his brother and Ida replaced the mother he lost at birth. He listened to them, trusted them and, most important, he learned from them. He was an eager student hoping to survive the indifferent streets of a harsh city. He was also a child who silently longed for affection and who found it in the company of the unlikeliest of trios. In another place, living among the honest and hardworking, Angelo Vestieri might well have grown up to live a life of simplicity and little consequence. But his road was paved with more dangerous material.
        We can ignore, even fight, our destiny, but ultimately we must yield. It was true for Angelo. It was true for me.
       
         *     *     *
       
    IDA THE GOOSE took in the wounded boy and cared for him. She directed the doctor to mend his wounds and warned Josephina to keep Angelo away from his father long enough for the visible bruises to heal.
        Why do you do this for him? Josephina asked Ida, staring at her as both women drank from glasses filled with dark Irish whiskey.
        I got a weak spot for strays, Ida said, downing the last of her drink. Found a kitten about two years ago in the alley behind the Cafe. She was pretty beat up, near dead, far as I could tell. Now, she's tough and hard enough to kill three cornered rats.
        And you think you will take Angelo and make him tough and hard? Josephina said. Like that cat?
        No, Ida said. I'll just try to teach him enough to keep him from gettin' killed.
        He looks and acts weak, Josephina said. But inside, he has much strength.
        He better, Ida the Goose said.
        Josephina stared at Ida for several moments. She then nodded and smiled and refilled their whiskey glasses.
       
         *     *     *
       
    IT WAS CLOSE to sunrise, light creaking through the windows of the Cafe Maryland. Angelo walked quietly down the center of the room, the smell of stale smoke and old drink fouling the air. He was wearing a robe two sizes too large over his pajamas and work shoes in the place of slippers. His face was still bruised and sore, one eye half-shut, and his back and chest hurt to the touch. Angelo pushed aside a chair and opened the door to Ida's back room. It was his first time in here and he marveled at how clean and well-kept it all looked, the furniture neat and polished, the framed