A Mob massacre takes place in 1970s Boston and Det. Jack Contino has to solve it. The trail leads to a rising Mob hitman and a Back Bay beauty with a mystery.
Some people seek out connections. Jack Contino does it. A cop knows how to link people and events. Maria Falcone connects people and places; the city of Boston, a rural New Hampshire college town, a Boston hit man, a college professor.
Jack Contino is a veteran cop with the Metropolitan District Commission Police Department (METS). They often work with the FBI fighting the Boston Mob. A gangland massacre puts him in pursuit of a killer.
Maria connects by leading a double life; college coed during the week and high priced call girl on the weekends. A college professor loves her. A Boston mobster uses her. Her future depends on one of them.
A beautiful, brainy young woman from East Boston, Maria didn’t plan a life connected to a gangster. It just happened. Ben, the older kid who lived up the street, was befriended by her father and saw her as a little sister until she developed into a beauty with a tough exterior and a business proposition.
New Sussex College, peaceful and small is an idyllic setting for Martin Douglas, offering a chance at advancement, publishing his first history book and finding love.
The action puts these people on a collision course and the result changes their lives forever.
Excerpt
Chapter One.
Jack Contino always walked into a bar like he owned the place. He sucked in his gut as best he could before entering, keeping his six-foot four inch, two-hundred and thirty pound frame as erect as a fifty-four year old veteran cop could. Despite his size, Jack had a lot of spring in his step. It was late afternoon in Boston, the right time to catch one of the parking spots vacated by the daily commuter students, who gobbled them up by seven in the morning. Jack worked his way onto an open stool at the far end of the bar and casually surveyed the room.
The Bullpen entrance was two steps down at the end of a short sidewalk on Commonwealth Avenue across from Boston University. Its patrons were both working class and B.U. students, mostly the older ones taking classes through the Metropolitan College. Some classes started as early as four-thirty. Winter was over but people still wore warm clothing. Some liked to get ready for class with a cold one. A long, L-shaped oak bar took up the left side of the room. Tables with four chairs at each were scattered along the right, leaving a small passage to the bar. The lighting was dim and got dimmer toward the back.
The first two tables were occupied by a small group of university employees, a young mix of males and females. They were a bit loud and seemed to be enjoying themselves. There were five men at the bar. Two looked like groundskeepers, with their heavy work boots and cuffed work pants and the others might be faculty or grad students. The working men looked to be about forty plus while the others were probably in their late twenties. There was casual conversation among the three faculty/grad types. Jack couldn’t make out what the working men were saying to each other. He noticed a lone figure sitting at a table in the back corner, a man about his own age. The man was wearing a shiny Red Sox jacket and a blue baseball cap with a big red “B” in the front above the visor. He had a hamburger plate with fries in front of him but he was looking around more than eating. His beer bottle was half empty. He knew Jack had spotted him.
“Give me two bottles of Miller,” said Jack as the bartender approached. She was a middle aged woman wearing a white blouse buttoned up to the neck and black slacks. About five-foot six, she cut a nice figure, her long brown hair in a ponytail.
“Coming right up.”
Jack put some bills on the bar when the beers arrived. He stood up with one in each hand and walked over to the guy in the corner. He placed a bottle in front of the man seated with his back to the wall and slid into the chair against the other wall. Both men had a view of the whole room. Jack took a swig from his bottle.
“So, you got yourself into a tight little spot in Connecticut,” said Jack. That served as an introduction.
“Yeah, well, it was supposed to be a good deal, but it didn’t go so good. That’s why I called your office. I need some help and I’ve heard some talk that you’re the guy for that. The word is you’re a straight up guy. You gotta help me out, Jack. You work with the Feds. You can pull some strings.” He took a bite of his burger as if to cue Jack.
“You think I’m the Seventh Cavalry coming to your rescue? You ran some guns to guys planning a bank job in Hartford. What the hell were you thinking? Now the Feds have your number.” Jack swigged his beer.
“Hey, I didn’t know what they were planning. And those pieces can’t be traced to me. I made sure of that. The Feds are setting me up. Whatever they claim to have is bogus.”
“Hey, keep calm, will you. Regardless of what you think is happening let me tell you what IS happening. The FBI has you targeted and they have a way of making life miserable for people in their cross hairs. You ran the guns to a guy who moved them to another party, the guys who wanted the bank. Lucky for you they never got to the gig, because if they did, you’d already be in lock up and I couldn’t be of much help to you. But your guy wants to go home at night so he gave you up. They already have enough to put you away, Charlie.”
“So why didn’t they?”
Jack sat back and smiled a big smile, the kind that says I’m your Daddy. He helped himself to a couple of fries and washed them down with beer.
“I’m already helping you out, get it? But I’m not a social worker. You have to make it worth my while.”
“What can I do?”
“It’s time for you to reconsider this omerta crap, your code of silence. I know you’re in a good position to know a lot about what the Boston mob is doing. We know about that North End apartment of yours. It attracts some interesting people. Oh, don’t look so surprised. We’ve heard about it now and then. Some solid information from you, stuff that will hold up in court, might make me willing to talk to the Feds on your behalf. I’m especially interested in the Winter Hill guys. There’s one guy I’d really like to nail. He’s got connections at the State House, so he thinks he’s bullet proof.”
“Hey, Jack. I don’t want to go there. Are you nuts? I’d be asking for a bullet. Hell, a bullet would be merciful the way that guy works.”
“He’s been pissing me off for a long time, but I’ve got to be careful. Let’s just say he’s got good insulation.”
“There’s a lot of stuff that goes on that’s got nothing to do with him. Let’s focus on some of that.”
“Well, it better be good. Think it over, old boy. Time’s a wastin’.”
Jack took a long drink from his beer. He pushed back from the table, got up and walked away. The other guy sat silently, watching Jack leave. He had some decisions to make. He couldn’t see the broad smile on Jack’s face.
Professional Reviews
Connections
Written by Barbara Clark
Connections
By Steven P. Marini
Gypsy Shadow Publishing, Lockhart, TX, 2012
Paperback, 187 pp., $13.99
Reading Steven Marini’s debut novel, Connections, puts me in mind of the Cheers theme, “Makin’ your way in the world today takes everything you’ve got.” Sure does seem that way in this absorbing crime novel, written from several perspectives: good guys, bad guys and a lot of folks in between. Some of the latter are drawn in by the prospect of a high-flying income, but fail to foresee how doing “business” with the mob – however far removed - has a way of trapping you in a bad way.
In his first work of fiction, Mr. Marini, who lives in West Yarmouth, presents a matter-of-fact look at the workings of the Boston Mob hierarchy, ca. 1970s, without a lot of movieland excess. We also get the working cops’ perspective, and an in-depth look at a couple of young adults who come from East Boston, where growing up in “the neighborhood” and comparing your modest circumstances with those always-in-the-money mob guys on your block, make fantasies of following such a career path not a bad idea – in theory.
Maria Falcone and Ben Secani both grew up in East Boston, and have embraced this idea, in their own ways. Maria’s always looked up to Ben, who’s older, but despite her knowledge that he earns his money in “unconventional” ways, she doesn’t realize he’s now an up-and-coming hit man for the Boston Mob. She approaches Ben, thinking he can give her the key to a world of easy money.
Now a beautiful young woman and a promising student at college in New Hampshire, Maria begins to earn big-time bucks on weekends as a high-priced call girl in Boston, and she’s got the (unfortunately wrong) impression that this choice will offer her a life of independence. She’s become part of Ben Secani’s “business” with the mob - he makes contacts with high-priced clients wanting a night out, and benefits with a generous cut of Maria’s weekend “take.” There are cuts for the guys higher up the food chain, too, including Ben’s boss, Joe Vito. So everyone’s connected. Likewise, when one troubling stone is dropped into the pond, the ripples spread to include everyone with their toes in the water.
Jack Contino, a veteran cop with Boston’s METS (Metropolitan District Commission Police), often assists the FBI with investigations of the mob. A brutal gangland slaying that leaves four men dead has left Jack and his partner, Leo, without much to go on, until the name “Secani” surfaces as the possible hit man. Jack and Leo are determined to find the killer – and take down as many higher-ups as they can.
This vigorous, well-plotted crime concoction takes a straight-on look at the tangles and snares involved in stepping outside the “social contract,” and it’s a kind of morality tale without the classroom lecture. It’s pretty well done, too. The author has wisely limited his word count, so it feels just about right, and we’re left with the sense of an inaugural job well done.
Forensic pathologist Greg Stevens MD is caught in the middle of a bitter struggle between two of his closest friends. Sean Merrick, an attorney specializing in malpractice law, sues Dr. Jason Costanza after Merrick's wife dies unexpectedly, following
In this Silver Sisters Mystery it's trouble at sea when Goldie and Godiva's eighty year old mother and uncle are invied on a relaxing cruise. Magic turns to mayhem for these former vaudeville magicians when a star magician is murdered on board.
