Title: Tears Of The Saints I: A Jewel Of Great Price (5/14)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Mel/Johnny (Mel does not appear in this chapter),
Red/Homer, Phil D’Andrea, Frank Nitti
Series Notes: Tears Of The Saints will deal with the Outfit/Syndicate (aka the Mob) and how they cross paths with the Dillinger Gang and the Bureau of Investigation. It helps to have first-hand knowledge of Italian culture and Catholicism. ;)
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: AU, Drama
Rating (this chapter): PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: None
General Summary: When the Syndicate needs the special talents of John Dillinger, they take out insurance that he will do the job they want by kidnapping someone near and dear to his heart: Melvin Purvis.
Chapter Summary: Johnny meets with Frank Nitti.
Date Of Completion: January 30, 2010
Date Of Posting: March 2, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1012
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The entire series can be found
here. V
"DO WE HAVE A DEAL, MR. DILLINGER?"
"Doing business with the Syndicate means always having eyes in the back of your head."
"Irish Eddie" O’Coyle
Reputed Gangster
1922 C.E.
Johnny looked up at the sign over the ornate doorway, The Montmatre Club scrawled in fancy letters on the board. He was dressed as sharply as possible in a pinstriped suit and his black greatcoat and fedora, Red and Homer flanking him. He doubted bringing more men would be a good idea. He suppressed a shiver as a cold gust of wind roared down the street, just barely grabbing his fedora before it blew off from his head.
They were let in by a sharp-eyed ‘doorman’ in black greatcoat and fedora, and immediately were met by two bruisers inside. Johnny and his men spread their arms, understanding the protocol.
Patted down quickly and efficiently, they were relieved of their weapons. Phil D’Andrea appeared.
“This way, gentlemen.”
As Johnny, Red, and Homer followed the shorter man, Johnny asked quietly, “What’s this all about, Phil?”
“Just business, Johnny.”
Johnny put a hand on Phil’s arm. “We both know it’s more than that.”
Phil looked at Johnny. “He’s fine for now.”
“For now.”
Phil nodded, not bothering to add any more. Johnny knew the score.
They went up the stairs, followed by another set of guards. Johnny understood vigilance, but this was like fuckin’ Fort Knox.
They reached the second floor, walked down the hallway, and Phil knocked on the door.
“Come in.”
Phil opened the door and ushered Johnny, Red, and Homer inside, following them and closing the door. The guards remained outside.
Frank Nitti sat at the head of the table, dressed in a sharp dark-blue pinstriped suit and light-blue silk tie.
“Have a seat.” He waved his hand.
Johnny pulled out a chair halfway down the table and Red and Homer stood against the wall, wary eyes on Nitti and Phil, the latter sitting on Frank’s left.
“So, would you like something to drink? My vino is the best in the city.”
“Thank you, Mr. Nitti, but I’m more interested in getting down to business,” Johnny said smoothly.
“All right then.” Nitti pushed a folded blueprint across the table at John. “There’s the bank I want you to hit.”
Johnny raised an eyebrow and unfolded it. “The State Street Bank!” He looked at Nitti. “Are you…?” He stopped himself. He doubted calling the Enforcer crazy would go over well. “I can’t rob a bank in the heart of Chicago!”
“Why, Mr. Dillinger, I thought you were fearless. The best bank robber of all time.” Nitti smiled, not a pleasant sight. “I thought you’d welcome a challenge.”
“I take risks with good odds, not impossible ones.” He pushed the blueprint away. “I want to see Agent Purvis.”
“Agent Purvis? Awful formal for your…busone?”
Phil winced while Johnny frowned. He didn’t know what that word meant, but he’d find out. He struggled to keep his expression neutral going forward. Never give away too much when dealing with the Outfit, and especially not the guy who ran it as Al Capone’s stand-in.
“You took a risk. The Feds’ll be out searching for him.”
“They won’t find him.”
“I want to see him.”
Nitti leaned back. “Pretty pushy for a nancy-boy.”
Johnny’s jaw tightened. He could feel the tension radiating off his friends behind him and hoped they kept cool heads.
Nitti must have sensed their hostility. “What’s it feel like, having a light-in-the-loafers leaders, boys?”
Red spoke. “Johnny’s stuck by us, and we stick by him.”
“How loyal.”
Johnny smiled. “I got loyal friends.” He leaned forward. “I want to see Mel.”
“Sorry, John. He’s all tied up at the moment.” Nitti smirked.
“I’m not going to do this job until I see him.”
Nitti’s eyes suddenly grew hard. “You’re gonna do this job, then you’ll get your pretty boy back. Otherwise the next package you get will have the finger that ring came off of, for starters.”
Johnny wanted to rip the smug bastard’s throat out. He was terrified for Mel but had to keep it together. His Sunshine was depending on him.
Nitti jabbed a finger at the blueprint. “I’ll even be generous about the money. You can keep all you can grab. I want what’s in Safe Deposit Box Number 6.”
Johnny frowned. “That’s awfully risky. The boxes need to be opened with a key.”
“It’ll be unlocked.”
Johnny raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
“What’s in the box?”
“All you need to know is that you’ll get the right one from the bank president.”
Johnny knew the whole thing was fishy, but he had very little choice in this mess.
Hang on, Mel honey. I’m gonna get you out of this.
“So, do we have a deal, Mr. Dillinger? The box for Pretty Boy Purvis?”
Johnny stood up and put the blueprint in his coat pocket.
“I’ll deliver when I get the box, but I want Mel in exchange at the same time.” He pulled on his winter gloves. “In one piece.” As he turned away, he looked at Phil, who appeared unhappy.
Johnny strode out the door, not bothering to wait for an escort this time. Red and Homer were right behind him.
They were given their guns back at the front door and went out in the biting cold. Johnny hoped that Mel was warm, wherever he was.
“Let’s go,” Red said, clapping a hand on his old friend’s shoulder.
Red escorted Johnny to their car a few blocks away, Homer keeping watch behind them.
Once in the car, Johnny’s fist came down on the dashboard. A half-choked sob escaped him as Red turned on the ignition, Homer in the backseat. Tears shimmered in Johnny’s eyes, and Red knew that he was holding himself together with spit and baling wire right now.
After a few minutes, Johnny straightened up. “Let’s go. We got plannin’ to do.”
Red exchanged glances with Homer through the rearview mirror and eased the Buick into traffic. They drove off, away from The Montmatre Club.