And we are back with an excerpt from Occupational Hazard. This one is from chapter 18, so it’s a taste from a little further into the book than we usually get. It’s pretty cool to jump right in though. Enjoy!

OccupationalHazard-Cover

CHAPTER 18

“Here’s JBJ.”

 

Mick is already there when I arrive at the Giambini residence.

“Al, thanks for joinin’ us. I know you know Mrs. Giambini here. And this here’s JBJ.”

Slouching on a dining room chair is this skinny fellow with a blank, sullen stare and bored and distracted look. This is the person that earlier in the day Mick spent considerable time describing to me. I think to myself, “This is going to be mighty interesting.”

We know that the less JBJ knows about our situation the better, so Mick and I simply tell JBJ that in order to help someone from the neighborhood we need him to get us certain information about Gilbert.

We ask JBJ what his daily duties are.

JBJ says, “I ain’t tellin’ youse fuckin’ shit until youse tell me what the fuck’s in it for me.”

Mrs. Giambini gets up from her chair, dashes across the room to JBJ and gives him the traditional Italian mother’s smack to the back of his head, causing his head to almost hit the table in front of him.

“Heh, ma, what the fu—!”

Mrs. Giambini screams, “Scustamad e merd!” Loosely translated, “You selfish shit!” but the way Italian mothers typically shout it makes one feel deeply ashamed and miniscule.

“Junior! When this man (pointing to Mick) says jump, you jump. When he says crawl, you crawl. And when he says nothing, you go to him and ask, ‘What can I do for you to repay you for all the things you done for me and my family?’ And besides the help he gave your father, your uncle, your aunt, don’t forget who got you that lawyer when you got caught selling drugs in high school. He also stopped that facimm who let you buy liquor when you were only 15.

“And we don’t even know all the people he talked to for you, for them to give you another chance even after all the bad stuff you done.

“‘What’s in it for me?’ you ask. Oo gotz! You got the nerve to ask. Mick over here never asked that disgraziada question when we needed help. He did not have to lift a finger, but he did and he did and he did and he did. NOW, he asks for a little help and you act like he’s asking you to sacrifice your life. Va fa gool!”

JBJ says, “Okay, okay, Ma, sorry, but I’m worried about this job. What if I get fired ‘cause of what these guys want me to do?”

Mick jumps in, “JBJ, you got the job ‘cause of Carlo. Carlo is term limited out at the end of next year. So, ain’t no way you gonna be there long anyways. And I ain’t never gonna ask you for help if I ain’t gonna have your back if helpin’ me hurts you. Gabbish?”

JBJ seems to get what Mick’s saying and nods to show his assent.

“Now you’re gonna tell us whatcha normally do at the office and we’ll tell you how you can help. And during the time that we need your help, which’ll be for a month or so and maybe longer, you ain’t doin’ nuttin’ that’ll get you fired and you ain’t gonna quit either. Gabbish?”

Again, JBJ nods his head.

We learn that JBJ was basically a gofer for Gilbert. He would run both business and personal errands for him. His duties include reminding Gilbert of appointments on his calendar and keeping Gilbert’s cell phone charged. His desk is located right outside Gilbert’s office and the door to Gilbert’s office is generally kept open, except for certain calls, when Gilbert would order JBJ to close the door. That demand is always given when Gilbert got calls from the mayor or Stillman, whom JBJ said is a “fuckin’ snob.”

The initial assignment we give JBJ is to make a note of any contacts or calls with the 312 area code on Gilbert’s cell phone log. For the time being, we assume and hope that Gilbert would not use his work phone for his dirty tricks involving Mary.

We ask JBJ what would happen if someone noticed his looking closely at Gilbert’s phone while it iss being charged. He says, “They ain’t gonna say shit, ‘cause Gilbert has me programmin’ his phone to add different apps and shit. And if he’s got his door closed or is outa the office, I play all sorts of games and do other crap with his phone and everyone sees me do it and ain’t gonna think nuttin’ of it.”

JBJ did tell us the night we met that Gilbert was in Philadelphia the day of the call to the reporter, but that his train would have been in New Jersey at the time that call was made from downtown Philly. This meant that if Gilbert was truly on that train, Gilbert could not have made the call to the reporter, but we already assumed that Gilbert would have had one of his cronies make the call.

Mick would tell me later, “Jimmy Cavello’s brother-in-law, Max, works for Amtrak. I’ll get the ticket info from JBJ and have Max check to see if it was scanned by the conductor, so we know whether Gilbert was on that train. I once saved Max from gettin’ his throat slit. He was in a bar he had no business bein’ in. Lucky for him, I was walkin’ by or it wudda been bye-bye for Maxie. The guy who was gonna cut Max is still singin’ ’em high notes.”

JBJ also told us that Gilbert was in Philadelphia supposedly to attend some conference. However, as JBJ overheard Gilbert tell some colleague over the phone, Gilbert had no intention to attend any of the conference. Instead, JBJ reported that Gilbert said, “In the immoral words of Mick Jagger, I am going there to ‘make some girl.’” Apparently, Gilbert’s ulterior motive in being in Philly was to seduce some woman who was attending the conference. …

We instructed JBJ to see what he can learn about that lady. He told us that night that he was sure that Gilbert had gotten “lucky” with her, because on the Monday morning after the conference Gilbert came in, uncharacteristically, grinning from ear to ear.

JBJ said, “He’s mad always. He ain’t nuttin’ but a mean prick.”

Then added, “I know her name’s Margaret.”

I said, “Wait! That’s his wife’s name.”

JBJ responded, “No! His wife’s Margie and from the way he talks on the phone with this Margaret, ain’t no fuckin’ way in hell could she be his wife, ‘cause he’s always real nasty to his wife.”

As we left this initial meeting with JBJ, I asked Mick what he had done for the Giambini family other than what Mrs. Giambini said about how he had helped JBJ.

Mick says, “JBJ’s dad’s name is John Giambini Senior, but for some reason everybody calls him Frank. Anyways, I helped the old man when he got sick. Had my guys get him to and from his doctors’ appointments. When this one doctor wasn’t payin’ proper attention to him, I had a conversation with the doctor and adjusted his attitude toward Frank. And when I found out a male nurse mistreated Frank, Pedro had one of his guys make sure the nurse never made that mistake again.

“Then there’s the uncle, one of ‘em degenerate gamblers. Died without two pennies to his name. I made sure he had a proper wake and burial. His poor widow was left destitute. Rather than have her go to the poor house, I put her in one of my apartments and she’s never been happier.

“Al, hear me out, ‘cause this here too is a lesson for you, though I gotta say you already know this, proof bein’ how you helpin’ Mary and little Roger. Who knows, maybe this runs in our family? Anyways, if somebody needs help and I can help, I help ‘em. If I need help and someone can help me, like JBJ now, I expect that they will help me. It ain’t in any way even Stevens, ‘cause that ain’t how I like to be, but this is the way things is: We help each other anyways we can. Nobody keeps count who’s done more for who. You never know whatcha’ll need, when you’ll need it, so it ain’t the kinda thing you cudda keep track of anyways.”

As we both go our separate ways, we both agree that this twerp JBJ just may turn out to be an ace up our sleeve.