Going After Joey “The Magician” Benechetti
That Is How I Learn • Still Standing • Quitting Time
One Minute Wit
That Is How I Learn
I once met a guy named Scarface,
but he didn’t have a scar on his face.
So I asked him why people called him Scarface.
He said, “Scarbelly doesn’t sound very tough, does it?”
Then he took out a knife, cut my face, and said, “Beat it, Scarbelly.”
That is how I learn.
50-Word Story
Still Standing
Newly married, farmer Greg needed a barn. He chose to build one the old-fashion timber frame way. It took months.
“A metal pole barn would be quicker and cheaper.” His father said.
“I know.”
At the age of 87, Greg still rode his tractor and admired his beautiful barn.
Some still appreciate craftsmanship and quality.
Comic
Quitting Time
Apologies to Katrina and the Waves
Story
Going After Joey “The Magician” Benechetti
A Detective Rory McCallen Story
-1924-
My name is Rory McCallen. Detective with the Chicago Police Department. I’ve been at it for 20 years. I was a beat copper for eight years before that. Some people say I look older than my 47 years. The honest and hurtful ones, anyway. It’s the job. Policing is thankless work that makes you old before your time.
Mobsters own this town. They run all the speakeasies. Booze is easy money and Prohibition made criminals into kings. Guys like me end up wearing cement shoes at the bottom of Lake Michigan if we don’t watch our step. You need rock-solid proof before making a pinch.
The Benechetti family runs several neighborhoods in Chicago. The old man is basically untouchable. He just gives orders. He doesn’t dirty his hands. Not anymore. He has his goons take care of business. He has three sons, Tony, Luigi, and Joey. Tony and Luigi are still boys in their thirties doing what their Daddy says. Not Joey. Joey is smart. Never been arrested. His nickname is “The Magician.” He makes people disappear without a trace. No body. Nothing. Just gone.
I plan to take him down.
Old man Benechetti and his three sons were sitting at their private table at Sofia’s, a small family-owned restaurant that featured homemade Italian cooking. The old man loves Sofia’s cooking. It reminds him of the old country. The family discusses a lot of business at Sofia’s, and today was no different.
“Joey, I need you to make Charlie Hanson at Hanson Bakery on Michigan Ave. disappear. He is three months behind on his payments,”
“No problem. I’ll take care of it right now.”
“Can, I go with you, Joey?” Freddie “Fingers” Russo, the safecracker, said.
Before he could object, the old man said, “Take him. He needs to see how it’s done.”
“You know I work alone,” Joey stated.
“You work for me. Take him.”
“Come on, Fingers,” Joey said as he got up and headed for the door.
Joey and Fingers arrived at Hanson’s Bakery a few minutes later and calmly walked inside. The one customer in the bakery saw them walk in and immediately put his head down and walked out. A look of terror came over Mr. Hanson’s face.
“Listen, Joey. I promise I’ll get your money. I just need some time. Business is slow lately.”
“You had three months. Let’s go for a drive and discuss it.”
Hanson started crying. “I’m begging you, Joey. Give me more time.”
Fingers said, “Times up. Let’s go.” Then he grabbed Hanson by the arm, and they took him out to their car.
They drove to a back alley in the warehouse district. They got out and took Hanson into a warehouse. Joey tied Hanson to a support pole.
“How are you gonna do it?” Fingers asked.
“A magician never reveals his tricks,” Joey replied.
“Ha, ha. Good one, Joey. Seriously. How do you make them disappear?”
“It’s time to go Fingers. I will take care of him later.”
“But the old man said to let me watch.”
Joey gave Fingers a look that sent a chill through his entire body, and said, “He said to take you with me. I did. Now we’re leaving. Trust me, you don’t want to see what I do next.”
Fingers decided it was best not to argue the point with someone who makes people vanish. They left Hanson tied up in the warehouse and headed downtown.
Twenty-eight years is a long time to do something. Especially with the odds against you. Seems like things only get worse. It’s not like I’m looking for respect. I only get that from the mob bosses. A bitter bit of irony, that. It’s probably time to retire. But I want to leave in the plus column. And that means bringing in Joey Benechetti.
Joey opened the door and his two daughters, Camilla and Maria, ran to give him a hug. “Daddy!” they both screamed as they wrapped around his legs, nearly knocking him off his feet.
“Whoa!” Joey said and crouched down so he could give them proper hugs. “What have you been doing today?” He asked.
“We baked cookies with Mommy,” they both said in nearly perfect unison.
“I can’t wait to taste one.”
Maria ran to get a cookie and brought it back to him.
Joey took a bite. “Mmm. It’s delicious. You girls did a great job.”
They both giggled and smiled widely.
Angelica came over and gave him a hug and kiss also.
“Sounds like you had a busy day,” Joey said to his wife of five years.
“You should see the kitchen,” she said and then laughed.
“I need to go out later. It won’t take long,” Joey said.
Angelica gave a knowing look and said, “Come on, dinner’s ready.”
At last. A break. One of my stoolies overhead “Fingers” Russo bragging about going on a job with Joey. That means he has someone stashed somewhere. Probably Joe Hanson, who went missing today. Joey is too smart to let that sap Fingers watch him put Hanson in the ground. All I gotta do is tail Joey until he does the deed and I got him. Then I can leave this job for the next sucker.
Joey drove out to the warehouse at ten o’clock that night. He didn’t notice the car tailing him with its lights off. Joey went into the warehouse and untied Hanson, then he led him out to his car. Hanson remained silent. He looked like a beat dog resigned to his fate. Joey drove out to the edge of town. Near the highway. He got Hanson out of the car. They stood in the headlights. Joey opened a picnic basket and took out a cooked chicken. He tore off a leg and handed it to Hanson.
“I know you’re hungry. Eat it.” Joey said.
Hanson just stared, not sure what to think. Was it poisoned? Was this a sick joke?
Joey tore off the other leg and took a bite. Then he pulled a glass vial out of his coat, opened it, and poured it on the chicken leg. The leg began to bubble and dissolve. Hanson realized the vial contained some type of acid. He started to panic.
“Listen carefully, Charlie. Lots of truck drivers use this route. You are going to hitch a ride out to California. You are going to take a new name and start a new life. You will never leave California. If you do, everyone you care about will end up like this chicken leg. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Joey, I understand.”
“After 30 days, you are going to write a letter to your wife and tell her what happened tonight. Tell her to burn the letter and buy a train ticket to California. Tell her to speak to no one before leaving. The two of you will live out your lives in California, never revealing who you were in Chicago. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, Joey, I understand. Bless you, Joey.”
“Now go. And remember everything I told you.”
Hanson immediately ran toward the highway.
“That was quite a show,” I said as I approached Joey.
“Evening, Detective. I tend to disagree. A couple of old friends having a chat is not that entertaining.”
“This chat was. Were all of them like this?”
Joey didn’t answer.
“You realize you just ruined my retirement,” I said.
“What did your old man do?” Joey asked.
“He was a copper.”
“So you’re in the family business too. I didn’t ask for this life, but I make the best of it.”
There was nothing to say. I just looked him in the eye.
Joey let out a quiet snort and said, “Want some chicken?”
Happy Monday.
Mark
Enjoyed this! You are a fine storyteller!
Medium, of course. 😊