The Family

"I know yous been following this case for nearly thirty years now. I even found myself digging around the idea of what might have happened back in the day," Mario Scaletta II sat in a wheelchair in a garden outside of the city's nursing home.

"The truth is I didn't know about their lives until I was getting ready to move out, and I had stolen a box from my dad's study. At that time, he had already been in federal prison for nearly fifteen years."

A retired Chicago detective sat across from him on a bench. He had a pad of paper in one hand and a utensil in the other. He seemed well mannered, and he had clearly dressed to impress. A fine pressed black suit and tie. Damn near looked like a private investigator. After he retired, he had turned to writing and journalism. So, basically the same thing in this line of work.

"I'm guessin you wanna know what was in that box," the man's wrinkled face creased as he chuckled. "A briefcase, and not any of those normal cases neither. This one had one of those padlock things. I goes well shit," Mario laughed again.

"Anyways, I had no idea what the hell the code could be. But at that point, my interest was at a high. I really wanted to know what was in there. I sat on the thought for three months before I decided to attempt it. The code was my father's birthday. I coulda guessed that the first day." Mario laughed, feeling stupid.

"What was in the briefcase?" Detective Guy was ready to write pages upon pages. He planned on writing a book about the Scaletta's. When he got the call from Mario, he was on the road that night.

"I found twenty grand and a black book. Wasn't just any book either; it was my grandfather's journal. Every illegal thing he ever did is in that book." Mario had a big smile on his face.

Guy's face lit up like he had come down to see gifts under the tree on Christmas.

Mario pulled the book out from the inside of his jacket. He was waiting to see Guy's reaction. It was everything he hoped for and more. "I was happy to see the twenty grand because the feds had seized all of the funds in my dad's name. Mom didn't have as much as he did but enough to live off of. After I moved out, it was agreed that I would live like everyone else. Of course, that changed after the case."

They both laughed. "But that book," Mario began. "There were things that I wish I never learned. Things that both my father and grandfather did."

"Like what?" Guy leaned in, preparing to write down everything.

Mario opened to the middle of the book. Smiling, he began.

September 27th, 1972

We were finally able to track down Jimmy and end him for good. It's been nearly five years since I lost Travis, not a day goes by where I don't think about him. The day I found out Jimmy killed him I had paid for his son to come up from New Orleans. I knew it was going to be hard to tell him, and when I did I knew Jimmy's days were numbered.

Guy finished writing. "Was that the official date they killed James Whitaker?"

Mario nodded his head. "He's mentioned in this book some hundred times. From what I could tell, my grandfather hated him more than the Devil hated God, and even then, he couldn't help but think about him."

"Is that all you have for me?" Guy asked; he didn't think it was, but a part of him was worried.

"No," Mario laughed and flipped to the beginning of the journal.

November 23rd, 1969

That son of a bitch, I didn't think he'd do something like this. Today was supposed to be the day of the Thanksgiving Parade. Mayor Crowder had a whole day planned. I had donated some funds to help get the kids a good place to hangout after the parade. They said they'd have fun activities like throwing darts at balloons and other fun fair games. I had only heard the sirens and while looking towards where my family was I saw the squad cars. People were running and panicking. The police hurried towards Frank's. That's where my family was and I was about to drive down when Vito told me that were alright.

Thirty minutes later Frank was in my office. Covered in blood and sweat. Tears streaming down his face. I had never seen my boy in such agony. He had told me a boy was killed by some of Jimmy's hooligans. It was a drive by, and the boy had died in Frankie's arms. That's when I realized that wasn't his blood.

Guy finished writing. He let out a big sigh; gangsters killing children was never a good look. It turned the public against you. And that's exactly what happened to the Freeport Mafia organizations.

July 4th, 1977

It was a great day to see fireworks. Unfortunately, I was in the office all night. The phone has been going crazy. That goddamned RICO Act is punishing all the city's organizations. The head of the effort here in town is Detective Murphy. He's a local guy. Never had a formal conversation. Mayor Crowder called me to warn me but Murphy is persistent.

"My father took over the family in the eighties. Mario was able to dodge the law for so long but," Mario shook his head, "you can only do that for so long. Sooner or later, the law is going to catch up with you." He laughed. It was true, even in the older days when outlaws and cowboys ran from it. The law always won in the end.

"The Scaletta family collapsed when Frank Scaletta was arrested. Do you know what those charges were?" Guy asked, thinking Mario would finally want to know.

"I s'pose so," Mario nodded.

Guy cleared his throat. "He was charged with nine counts of murder, two counts of loan sharking, eighteen counts of extortion, and three counts of tax fraud."

Mario began to laugh. (Tax fraud? Really, pops? Jesus.) "Them gangsters and taxes. They'll teach a man not to fuck with the IRS." He laughed some more.

The wind was gusting through the trees; the day was winding to an end. More patients of the old folks home were finishing up their evening walks. The conversation had given Mario some peace, and most importantly, more knowledge of who his father really was.

"What are you going to call it?" Mario wanted to know the title of the book Detective Guy was going to write.

"Well, I was thinking. I'd like to call it The Saints of the Midwest." He smiled, hoping Mario would like it. A smile formed on the older man's face. Guy then got up to shake Mario's hand. He accepted, and the wrinkly hands met.

"Thank you, sir." Before he could take his hand away, Mario held it.

Mario motioned for a nurse to bring out the briefcase. Guy suddenly became tense and hot. He pulled at his collar. Took an inhale and slowly exhaled. "No ne--" Mario cut him off with his hand. Guy hadn't noticed, but on Mario's ring finger was the diamond baguette. The family's ring.

"My father gave it to me before he went to jail. Every family member had one. Even Travis and his boy." Mario smiled, looking at the ring. It had brought better memories of his father. He was a great dad but a horrible person.

"Listen, Milo. I want you to take the case with the twenty grand and journal," He handed Milo the little black book. "You can do whatever you want with that money. Spend it, throw it in the Pecatonica, or bury it." Mario closed his eyes, trying to hold back tears. "I don't want it. My father did God only knows what to get it."

Milo felt as if he couldn't decline. He took both the book and case and said his finally goodbye. He was near the parking lot when he shouted back, "What's the code?" But he noticed Mario had already disappeared into the building.

There went that idea. Donating it to a charity would've been his best option. The option he would've chosen, but with no code, what was the point?

Milo was now standing on the bridge at Krape Park. It was dark and brisk, and the park was empty. The midwest during the spring was winter at night and summer during the day. He had always wanted to get away from it. He looked down at the case once more as if to confirm his decision.

He threw the case into the Yellow Creek and watched it sink to the bottom. He turned around and walked his way towards his car. He had everything he needed, maybe more. He looked in the passenger seat and the little black book stared back at him. A book full of one of the most successful and biggest crime families America had ever seen.

As the briefcase hit the bottom of the creek, something on the butt of it glistened in the night's light.

It was the code: 61032...........