Showdown in Beantown
A Cavazutti Crime Novel #1
by Carlo Cavazutti
Sly Greene has his hands in many legal and shady activities and connected to many politically. He has become fast friends with a retired police detective now private eye named Carlo Cavazutti after Carlo solved his son’s murder. But Sly has secrets even from Carlo some of which the reader learns of early on and others are revealed later in the book as to how Sly came upon his wealth and power in the community.
As Carlo and Sly are enjoying a good cigar in walks the damsel in distress, Lady Tatiana, the sister to Britiney who tends bar for Sly. The Lady seeks Carlo's help with ridding her of the Albanian Mafia which is trying to take her production company. Carlo must find a place for the Lady to hide while he figures out a way to rid her of this violent gang. He enlists the aid of another cop friend, the retired director of the DEA with two of his men, a Spec Op warrior and his crew and one deadly female assassin. All have close ties to Carlo and plenty of history. They plot with Carlo to take down the Albanian threat for good. But a traitor lurks within their midst and Carlo seeks out the Albanians to give them an ultimatum, leave or die. It is a risky move, one which could be the end of his life.
Who survives the final conflict will be revealed in the last hours of the story.
Excerpt
Prologue
She sat in the back of her chauffeur-driven limo, her right knee ratcheting like a jackhammer. The corners of her mouth were turned down taking away from the face that other women envied. Bloodshot eyes were glazed over with tears; her right fist pressed against her face completed the look. She thought about lighting a smoke to ease the tension and instead removed several cubes of ice from the built-in freezer-fridge. Then she dropped them tinkling and spinning into the hand-cut crystal glass and topped them with the clear alcohol that was her choice of poison for the moment. God, she thought, a Xanax would be so good now. She was aware of the ever-present whining still audible from the outside of the well-insulated car, like a mosquito buzzing around one’s head that one could never seem to swat. She couldn’t ignore it nor tune it out with animated conversation as she took calls or gave commands to her driver. Maybe she noticed it because of the eerie, dark quiet.
It was another two hours to Boston, another two hours to endure the tension that built inside her like a rubber band about to burst. Her sister promised a glimmer of salvation, but she felt nailed to a tree. She would be damned or die before she turned over everything she had labored and worked toward all her life. She wished she was in her old neighborhood church where she felt peace and calm, like when she was a little girl and Gramma took her each Sunday in her white dress. But life had taken her on a voyage far away from those days in South Carolina and far away from those casual days as a young girl.
Chapter One
A New Start
I had enjoyed the previous ten years since I retired from the police department. I was sick of the bullshit and lies so I picked up and moved to Boston. A lot of people were surprised I went riding off into the sunset, but I looked at it as riding into a new sunrise. I kicked around in a few different jobs working for other people, but I was tired of the same old shit over and over, just like the PD. I didn’t have a filter, so I didn’t bite my tongue, and those were the times I had to pay a price. Those that tried to tame me, well, let’s just say I’ve outlived them all. But I don’t ever look back, as regret is for fools. I have lived as an outlaw and I have lived within the law, and even both at the same time. Sure, I worked in a lot of gray areas and walked a line that was razor-thin at times to make a case, and I didn’t hesitate to bend or break a few rules.
So, I decided to get my own ticket and work for myself. Now the only people I had to argue with were the voices in my head (ahh, that was a joke but coming from me one never knows for sure). As a civilian, either cops hated private sector people like me, or they got along well and at times worked together. As far as I was concerned, we were all of one blood, and someday they would be in the same boat as me, retired and looking for something to do. I made friends, some better than others, and then there were those I wouldn’t have helped if they begged me. To me it was cut-and-dry, no in-between with people. If they laid down with dogs, they got fleas, and I wasn’t about to start scratching an itch.