Insurance
They return to the room to find Jaquez stretched out on the bed and Dewey sitting at the window by the table. Sun creeps its way through a small break in the curtains diffusing through the occasional wisp of smoke from Dewey’s cigarette. Charles sits down heavily at the foot of the bed pondering the last hour’s conversation. Jaquez sits up with his back to the headboard as Veretta walks through the room.
Carlone was still not happy with the way Dewey was trying to manipulate him by using his friend, but he understood it was just the way Watchtower did business.
“Dewey, Dewey, Dewey…” Veretta sits in a chair across from him, “I’m a little bit disappointed with you. You usually check your sources to the bone, but I think you just took one in the shorts.”
Dewey snaps at him, “What are you talking about? I assume he told you what we want, and you’re gonna do it or I’m gonna have to dig deeper…and harder.”
Standing quickly and reaching Dewey’s chair before he can react, Carlone leans in and puts a finger within a few inches of Dewey’s face.
“Listen to me you little weasel. If you think I’m here because you summoned me, then you obviously don’t remember who you’re dealing with. I am here on my own volition to help YOU out. You threaten me again and I’ll let Othello Redman sick his dogs on you, then I’ll mop up what he didn’t finish. So you sit there, shut the fuck up and let me talk, because you need to hear what I have to say. We have an opportunity to help each other out AND get you the information you’re looking for, so you better fuckin’ pay attention, and keep your comments to yourself.”
Dewey swallows nervously, leaning uncomfortably back in his chair. Veretta moves closer, speaking quieter now.
“Do you speak Japanese, Dewey?”
“…no…” Dewey responds hesitantly.
“I think you should learn.”
Veretta stands back up and walks to the other side of the room. He removes a cigarette and offers one to Wellstone, who nods his head nervously, whispering “Yeah, I think I need one.”
He notices Jaquez sitting with a grin on his face, enjoying watching his former employer work.
Lighting Charles’ cigarette, and then his own, Carlone rests his right shoulder against the wall opposite the window and takes a slow drag off the lit ember in his hand.
Dewey mulls things over in his head for a few minutes when it hits him, “…Yakuza?”
“They’re feeding you false information about Redman’s organization. Your ‘Scorpion’ contact is an alias for one of their bloodhounds. They want you in this to take the heat off when Redman finds out. You’re their scapegoat.”
Veretta watches Dewey’s expression of surprise change to mistrust, then to anger.
“Check it out for yourself, just be careful,” Carlone looks at his watch, it’s half-past ten, “I have to go. I’ll call you tonight with some more information, and arrange a meeting with Charles and Jaquez. Whatever you do, for the time-being, stay out of the Savannah.”
He puts his cigarette out in the ashtray by the bed, and looks toward Charles and Jaquez, “It’s always good to be respected.” He flashes a glare at Dewey and leaves quickly.
Walking down the hallway, Carlone retrieves his phone from his suit pocket and speaks into the receiver, “Mister Redman.”