I am a buisness man.
Sure, the buisness I'm in isn't the prettiest thing. I mean, my buisnesses involve most everything illegal. I am what happens when you take a worthless pile of gutter-crap and give 'im direction. My direction was to take care of number one.
I know how to push people. I know how to lean on someone just enough to make them do what I want them to. I also know how to break bones and look at myself in the mirror the next day if they don't respond well to my leaning.
So, you'd think a punk like me would have some sort of a future, no?
Ya damn right. I took to organized crime like a fuckin' fish to water. Nowadays we use the term 'organized crime' instead of mob. I think it makes the grunts believe that what they're doing isn't all that bad. Idiots.
I was pretty big in the underground of Angel City for quite a while. I had drive, I had money, I had a shitload of stupid people with guns willing to die for me.
Then it came to me.
One thing I know, is that I ain't crazy. I never had any sort of tendancies toward being a loonie. I didn't even have a fuckin' imaginary friend when I was young, I was too busy tryin' to figure out how to pick the locks at the shelter I lived. They kept the best shit behind locked doors, it's like they were asking me to take it.
Anyway, it started as nothing more than an incomprehensible whisper somewhere behind my ear. I first heard it during my right hand man's wedding. I was standing by the wedding cake, just minding my own buisness when Sergio, my right hand's son, comes up to me with this silly look on his face and asks me to play ball with him.
I'm busy tryin' to get myself good an' liquored up and this fuckin' kid wants me to play ball with him! I told the kid that I'm not going to play with him. I mean, what would that look like, me; Antonio Giovanni playin' ball with some kid. Fuck that, I don't need this. Then I heard the voice, it whispered to me, over and over again getting louder each time until it was understandable.
"Kill 'im"
I looked around and seriously doubted my sanity there for a minute. But, I'm Antonio Giovanni and I don't hear no damn disembodied voices. So, I took that moment to go home and check for radios, bugs... anything.
There wasn't a damn thing there.
I couldn't sleep after that. No matter what I did, I could never sleep. The voice kept getting louder everytime I saw someone, it kept telling me the same thing, "kill him", "kill her" as if it were the most normal thing to think. Eventually, I stopped going outside. I locked myself in my home, did all my buisness over the phone and computer cables. I lost my edge. Things began slipping.
Then, before I realized it, my empire and all I'd worked for was gone. No one wanted to do buisness with me cuz I never did face to face meetings. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late. My work was gone. So, I needed to go out and get my shit back, I needed my power back.
I went out.
As soon as I step outside, I'm confronted by a group of four stupid thugs that didn't know who they were messing with. They asked for my money.
I grinned.
Before they even began yelling about me grinning at them, I had already shot one four times in the face. His blood splattered everywhere, people were screaming, I was grinning. I kicked the other one in the face while he was gaping over his friend's dead body and when he went down, I shot him twice, once in the throat and once in the right eye. Then the other two must've thought that they'd get revenge. Stupid, stupid kids. I shot one right through the chest and the other three times in the face. They were dead before they hit the pavement.
I just grinned.
Now, I'm not gonna tell ya that I'm an angel or something. I am scum, I'm shit. But, I've never really enjoyed killing like that. I never felt anything better, not even sex with my friends the pros.
So, naturally, I wanted more. The voice just cheered me on. "Kill him, Kill her, Kill them." So I did. I killed them all. The whole crowd got it pretty quickly. Then I reloaded and walked down the block and found a bunch of kids hiding behind a car. Little kids, twelve at oldest. I killed them too. Eventually, you guys came and stopped me. I heard the voice laughing.
It laughed at me.
So, you see officer... It's not me that killed all those people... the voice did it... I swear... HEY! DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME! I'LL KILL YOU TOO!
********
It was the usual bureaucratic snarl that so plagued Maximum Cop, and kept them from being really effective. The crimes crossed jurisdictional boundaries. No one seemed to know whose court he should be tried in. The lawyers haggled as he sat "in custody" and ate and drank and watched vids and played cards and had his family and friends, those few that were left, over to visit him.
Days ticked by as the legal people debated. And in the jurisdiction where he was housed, time was running out. His lawyer had already drafted a writ of habeas corpus, and was walking up the steps to deliver it. The writ would force them to charge the man, or free him. And, since no one could decide who had the authority to charge him...it didn't look good for the People of Nexus.
It was just about supper time. He'd ordered a lavish meal from the Italian Ristorante around the corner. The guard came down the corridor to his cell in Administrative Segregation carrying a tray.
"Good evening, Mr. Giovanni," said the guard, sliding the tray through the slot in the bars. "I have your cigarettes." He reached through the bars with the carton.
When Giovanni reached out for it, the guard dropped the carton, grasped his wrist and pulled him against the bars. Before Giovanni could take another breath to yell for help, the guard touched a finger to his chest, and he slumped to the floor.
"You really should give them up," said the guard. "Filthy habit."
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