The Rolling Bootlegs Read Online Free PDF Page B

on hearing a tall tale down at the bar, he kept right on talking, aggressively.
    “Seriously? They’re actually making you an exec?
You?
A little brat like you? You’re puttin’ me on, right? C’mon, now… Hurry up and tell me I’m wrong. I’m about to bust a gut over here. So, what, is your outfit really that short on people?”
    The pair ignored him and set off. It didn’t bother Edward. He went on, laughing. “Or, you know, I always thought you had a kind of girly face… How many executives do you gotta lay to skip to the top like that, huh?”
    Silently, the two men stopped.
    Firo wondered if a threat was in order. His thoughts went to the knife at his hip.
    “Assistant Inspector.”
    However, it was Maiza who turned first.
    Still wearing that benign smile, he faced the assistant inspector and said, simply:
    “Go any further, and we’ll take it as an insult.”
    Edward’s expression froze. His sneer died in his throat.
    Maiza’s smile was simple and honest, and his tone was no different from what it had been a moment before.
    However, the poor assistant inspector had realized something.
    I’m going to die.
    The instant he said a single word about “the syndicate” or Firo, the man in front of him would probably kill him. The cold emotion resonating deep in that voice had him convinced.
    The eyes were what drove the thought home. They elicited in the inspector an unnamed fear, as if something unknowable was stealing into them from their depths…
    As Edward closed his mouth, realizing he’d broken out in a cold sweat, Maiza laid a hand on Firo’s shoulder and continued:
    “…True, our syndicate may exist
only to be eaten
…”
    He paused for a moment.
    “…but be careful not to let the poison do you in.”
    That bastard. So he was eavesdropping.
    Edward thought this but was unable to actually verbalize it. The sensation of cold sweat had reached his back.
    Firo was still glaring at the assistant inspector. Patting his companion’s shoulder twice, Maiza stepped out onto the thoroughfare as though nothing had happened. As if drawn by the motion, Firo’s feet also turned toward the avenue.
    “…Reme… Remember this… Even if you kill me, I’ll never accept Mafia scum like you… Someday…I’ll wipe you out…! I swear it!”
    Behind them, the pair heard the assistant inspector’s strangled voice.
    “Ah. We aren’t Mafia.”
    Waving a hand lightly, Maiza answered without even turning around.
    Firo followed him, and they disappeared into the crowd.
    “We’re—Camorra.”
    In the alley, after they’d gone, the assistant inspector’s fists trembled.
    “Uh… Assistant Inspector, we should head back to the station.”
    Just then, one of the officers who’d been confiscating the evidence a minute ago returned.
    “…And where were you?”
    “Erm…well… We were all waiting in the car, but you didn’t come, so…”
    “Don’t give me that! You just couldn’t bring yourself to turn up until now because you were scared of that
contaiuolo
!”
    “S-sir, that isn’t…”
    The officer’s face went pale, signaling to the assistant inspector he’d guessed right.
    “You scumbags call yourselves policemen?! What is our job, huh?! To protect the laws of the United States and the safety of its citizens, that’s what! Their kind threatens both! What good are we if we’re afraid of them, too?!”
    He kicked at the redbrick wall repeatedly with his nearly new leather shoes.
    His accusation went for himself as well. The idea irritated him even more.
    “Maiza Avaro…Firo Prochainezo… I didn’t like them before, and I swear I’ll take them down someday with my own two hands!”
    In an attempt to calm the enraged assistant inspector, the foolish police officer added an ill-considered joke:
    “That sounds like a line from some mafioso in a novel.”
    Edward’s aggrieved leather shoe landed a vicious kick on his subordinate’s shin.

    “Apparently we’re going to get wiped