The Damascus Chronicles by Dominic R. Daniels Page B

the door of Franco Scarfo’s penthouse, at least, what was left of it.
    Sonny Scarfo and his insurance agent were surveying the damage to the building when Frank Watson walked in to scope out the flat. The place looked like it had been blown up, with bullet holes and large burn marks in the wooden floor and tattered curtains cut to pieces from the gunfire. The apartment itself smelled of sulfur. While surveying the room, Frank tried to link the murders to the other victims he had seen earlier that morning.
    After the insurance agent left, Sonny noticed that Watson was still in the room upstairs. He was pissed about a fat boy cop snooping around his side of town. “Hello officer fuck face, what do you want here? You got no warrant!”
    “I’m making it my business. Look here, asshole.” With the warrant in his hand, Frank pushed Sonny against the wall with his big hands, scaring Sonny shitless with a loud crack against the brick wall. “Alright listen, you little fat bald headed mother fucker, I don’t want to hear your shit, I don’t want to even hear you breathe, all I want to know is who did this!” Watson demanded.
    “Why don’t you eat a doughnut and get the fuck out of here. It’s a federal offense to commit an act of brutality to a man who is unarmed,” sneered Sonny.
    “I don’t follow the rules and neither do you, you fucking gangster.”
    “Piss off, pig.”
    “That’s it, let’s take a trip,” said Frank, blowing his lid as he pulled Sonny to the window, halfway holding him out the window six stories from the ground, holding his gun to the back to Sonny’s head.
    Sonny was petrified. “Hey! Hey! What are you doing!”
    “You want to give me some answers now asshole, or do I have send you on a one way ticket to the pavement?”
    “Okay! Okay! I’ll talk I’ll talk! Just don’t let me fall,” screamed Sonny.
    “That’s better guinea,” said Frank.
    “My boss got robbed a few nights ago. We were having a business dinner with some building contractors at 9 pm when some asshole breaks in and shoots up the place,” said Sonny.
    “Go on,” said Watson.
    “I didn’t get a good look at the guy, I just saw he was dressed in black and had long black hair and a girl was with him, but I didn’t see her that well.” Just then Jack walked in and witnessed Frank’s method of questioning. “Frank! For God sakes man! What the hell do you think your doing?”
    “Just getting a little info from this cockroach here,” said Watson.
    “Let him down lad! Now! You’re out of line.”
    “Shut up Jack!” yelled Frank.
    “Let him go now!” roared Jack. Frank let go Sonny go, not because of Jack’s orders, but because he didn’t think he could get any further information from Sonny. Frank stormed out, angry for being reprimanded by his superior officer.
    “What were you thinking back there?” asked Jack.
    “Nothing, I just like doing things my way. The system is too soft with these mob pricks,” sulked Frank.
    “You know that if any officer saw this they could report you to the DA,” said Jack, disappointed at his partner’s reckless behavior. “I’m not afraid of internal affairs,” huffed Frank.
    “I’m not going to say anything, Frank, but you better get with the program. We’re not above the law,” Jack lectured.
    “Old man, you’re getting too soft,” said Frank.
    “Yeah I know, now come on, let’s go,” said Jack as they proceeded to leave. Sonny flipped them off out the window.
    “Listen Frank, we need to get more information, we don’t have enough to connect these murders to the Scarfo mob or the Santerini mob as a hit.”
    “I agree. We’ll comb the area by checking with any business owners who might have the seen the crime at the time it was committed. If we can find them and get them to give us an eyewitness statement, we’ll have evidence,” said Frank, lighting up a cigarette, then slamming his mini steel lighter shut.
    “That’s good. We’ll check with