Read Online Monkey in the Middle by Stephen Solomita - Free Book Online

therefore presumably rational, has every advantage. Naturally, the mark will resist this conclusion, not least because the situation is entirely novel. But the heads of criminal enterprises are also rational actors. They will sue for peace once they internalize their helplessness.
    Carter waited until he was sure Thorpe was finished, then asked, ‘How much?’
    â€˜Per head?’
    â€˜Yeah.’
    â€˜Twenty grand.’
    The door to Sweet’s Bar and Grill opens suddenly and a man staggers out to light a cigarette. A second later, he’s joined by a woman. Carter brings his eyes to the rifle’s scope and sights down on the man. Not a mark.
    Sweet’s is nominally owned by an aging alcoholic named Harry Sweets, but Paulie Margarine has a controlling interest in the bar, as he does in several legit businesses. Sweets is also where Paulie holds court, his minions coming and going. According to Thorpe, Paulie has been powerfully influenced by John Gotti, who delivered sensitive instructions to his people vis-à-vis walk-and-talks outside his social club. Paulie, who doesn’t trust phones any more than did the Dapper Don, has added a little fillip to the walk-and-talk. His strolls take place beneath the el as trains pass overhead.
    According to Thorpe, any tactic, when analyzed, will yield a vulnerability, a sacrifice of one benefit to achieve another. True, Paulie’s tactic will most likely frustrate the cops and their long-distance microphones. Not so an assassin.
    Carter’s wait drags on for another hour. He doesn’t mind. Alone in the shadows, he feels at home, as if designed for the environment. Outside, the sidewalks are busy, as are the stairways leading up to the el. Christmas is coming and there’s a tension in the air that Carter, from a distance, finds pleasant. The children are especially exuberant. They skip down the street, blowing little clouds of steam into the frigid air. As he watches, Carter’s eyes drift along the sidewalk, restless as the wind-blown litter. Eventually, his gaze settles on a panhandler huddled against the wall of a Dunkin’ Donuts. The panhandler is little more than a bundle of rags and he sits unmoving, despite the cold. Very occasionally, someone pauses long enough to give up some spare change and Carter imagines the little clink of coin on coin. The panhandler himself appears not to notice.
    A young girl, her head rising barely to her father’s hip, stops before the beggar. She stares at the man for a moment, then yanks on her father’s hand. Carter is too far away to make out her features, but he imagines her lips moving rapidly as she looks up at her dad, who wants only to be home, to be done with the day’s obligations. His free hand clutches a pair of shopping bags and his shoulders sag with fatigue. He stops nevertheless, dropping his packages to the sidewalk as he digs beneath his coat for a suitable offering. Finally, he comes up with a bill, which he hands to his daughter. Suddenly shy, she edges toward the panhandler, looking back at her father for reassurance before dropping the bill into his cup. The panhandler remains motionless throughout.
    Carter is wondering what it’s like to be homeless four days before Christmas. Does the man recall happier times, perhaps his own childhood? Carter remembers being astounded on that first Christmas with Janie. The tree, the brilliant Christmas wrappings, the presents. At first, his senses were overwhelmed and he smelled a trap of some kind. But then he dug in, happier at that moment than he’d ever been in his life.
    The door to Sweet’s opens and Paulie Margarine steps out, shortly followed by Angelo ‘Bruno’ Brunale, one of his closest advisors. Carter doesn’t see them exit, his eyes only coming to them as they stand together on the sidewalk. More slippage? Carter drops his eyes to the scope and focuses on Brunale, ignoring the traffic. He