Ch. 2: No One Mourns the Wicked
Thanks again to Jason Isaacs Fangirl on tumblr for helping me out with some of this fic!
Moe had gone back to get some supplies for a raid he'd been told to carry out, by Freddie, earlier. When Moe came in, he didn't expect anyone to be there, and so, he began to gather up a few sawed-off shotguns, a pair of leather gloves, and wire-cutters. When he heard something rustle on the couch, he cocked a shotgun, heading to the source. He pulled back the blanket, surprised to see Michael lying there, sound asleep. "Mike?" He gasped, nudging Michael in the back. When Michael simply gave a grunt, still asleep. Moe nudged him again, saying, "Hey" quietly.
Michael looked back, equally surprised to see Moe there, and groaned, "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question," Moe snarled, "Where the fuck have you been?!"
"Trying not to get my ass shot up by Nozolli's thugs" Michael sneered. Moe paused a moment, then hugged Michael around the shoulders, to which Michael protested, "Hey! What the fuck?!...No hugs! We don't do hugging!"
Moe let go of Michael, and grinned, "Good to have you back, Mikey. Gotta say, I kinda missed ya."
Michael sat up, taking the shotgun from Moe's hand, smiling, "We've got work to do" as he stood, pulling a shirt over his head.
The two men loaded up the trunk of the car, and set out for one of the Mafia's safe houses. To their surprise, no one was there…except for a veteran officer with the Rhode Island State Police Department. Moe had stayed upstairs, having seen the cruiser, and fearing jail time. "Mr. Caffee…," the officer smiled, "I've been waiting a long time to put you away" The officer said as Michael came out.
"Shit" Michael muttered to himself.
"Turn around and face the car…hands behind your back" Michael's heart raced as he did what the officer said, though he showed no fear. Officer Brydon shoved Michael against the car, cuffing his hands behind his back before searching him.
About half an hour passed, and the phone rang in Tommy's office; his receptionist answered, and peeked into the room, saying, "Mr. Speaker…? There's an Officer Brydon on the phone for you…"
Tommy sat at his desk, waving her off. "Take a message…I'm busy right now"
"Of course, Sir." The receptionist left to take a message, then came back to Tommy's office, saying, "…Message from Officer Brydon…Your brother's been arrested."
Tommy's head shot up in shock, and he advised, "Cancel the rest of my appointments for the day…Take any messages necessary." Standing from the desk, he pulled his jacket over his shoulders, and left.
Once Tommy arrived at the police station, he stayed out of Michael's sight, muttering quietly to the officer on guard, "I don't want him to see me…and think he's getting out." The officer took him to Officer Brydon, and Tommy asked, "Why's Michael here?"
"We received word from a…private source…that he's connected to the attempted murder of Alphonse Nozolli." Brydon stated. Tommy's eyes widened, and Brydon said, "We have 5 credible witnesses, and an audio recording of the incident as it occurred." He played the recording that had been taken via 'wire' – Nozolli's driver had been wearing a wire at the time of the shooting, dying while it was still recording. "We have no doubt that this evidence points to your brother…It's enough to put him away for a long time."
Tommy looked to Michael; who sat impatiently in his cell; then said to the officer, "He won't hold up well in the prison community…He shouldn't be in that environment."
"That's up to the courts to decide, Mr. Speaker." The officer sneered. "He's not getting out of here until his court date."
"Which is…?"
"Next Thursday afternoon" Brydon stated with a smile as he walked away. Tommy sighed and gave Michael one last glance before leaving. There was nothing he could do until next Thursday; he would see to it that Michael stayed out of jail. One way or another, he would see that his brother received an alternative punishment for his actions, if they were proven to be his.
The week passed by very slowly for Michael; who stayed in his cell, suspicious of anyone who came in. Anyone who was put in the same holding cell with him was stared down and intimidated into staying away from him. Michael had that effect on people, and that was one of the reasons he couldn't go to 'real jail'.
Everyone seemed to avoid him, except for a drunk woman that had been placed in his cell on Saturday night. He gave her the same intimidating glare that he'd given all the others, and she simply giggled, "Ooh! Scary!" then staggered over to him, slurring, "What're you in for, stud?"
Michael put on one of his best snarls, and muttered, "Attempt murder"
The drunk woman giggled, hiccupping, "Well, if it was only an attempt, you didn't do such a good job, did you?"
Michael sighed, "There was an attempt…that's all they care about. It put the fear of God into the bastard."
The drunk woman smiled, sitting next to Michael, "So, what did you do?" She snuggled into his shoulder, placing a hand on his leg, "Shoot the guy?"
Michael nodded, "Did him a favor…Widened his asshole." The drunk woman seemed shocked by his confession, but snuggled closer to him, moving her hand further up his leg.
The woman raised a brow in thought, then asked, "With the gun, right?"
Michael's expression said 'Really?' and that was the last of their interaction. And so, he would sit there, and wait for his court date. No one else would bother him while he was in that cell.
A few days after Tommy's visit, Mary Rose began to worry about her uncle, and started to ask about him. She wasn't stupid; she knew he'd been back briefly and took Colin somewhere. She was the one that answered the door when he came. "So, when's Uncle Michael coming back?" she asked Tommy that night, at the dinner table.
"I don't know that he'll be coming back this time." Tommy sighed, "He's made enough trouble for himself as it is"
"What kind of trouble is he in?" She knew he was in with the wrong crowd, and all, but there were different kinds of trouble for him to be in with different kinds of people.
Tommy knew the questions wouldn't let up; he had to give her some kind of answer. He couldn't tell her that Michael was in jail, charges pending for attempted murder, armed robbery, and breaking and entering. But he knew she'd find out somehow; she was smarter than she let on. "…More trouble than usual."
The dinner table was silent for a while, and Eileen muttered to Tommy, "Are you gonna tell Rose? I don't know how well she'll handle hearing the news from the police, or straight from Michael…."
"I'll go over after dinner" Tommy finished, stuffing a forkful of pasta in his mouth.
After Lila and Noni were put to bed, Tommy left for Rose's house. It was something that he'd rather tell her in person. Over the phone, he'd know Mary Rose would find out a way to overhear their conversation. And over the phone it was harder to convey the appropriate emotion. As he got in the car, he phoned Rose to make sure she was still awake.
"Of course, I'm still awake. I'm a night owl." Rose laughed, "See you soon"
When Tommy arrived, the look on his face told Rose that something was wrong. "What's wrong?" When Tommy remained silent, Rose pushed, "I know that face. The last time I got that look, Eileen was having her first bouts with morning sickness." She thought, then asked, "She isn't…again, is she?"
"Uh…no…not again, no" Tommy smiled, anxiously rubbing at the back of his neck.
Tommy had a pretty bad tell for when there was trouble. "What is it?"
"You might want to sit down" Tommy sighed. Rose's expression changed completely, as the two of them sat on the couch. Tommy took a breath, then said, "…It's Michael…"
"Have you heard from him?" She asked, hopeful that she'd hear good news instead of bad.
"Not…directly" Rose's concern grew, and Tommy had to tell her. He'd just come out with it; no beating around the bush. "Ma…Michael's…been in a holding cell for about 4 days…"
"Why did you wait this long to tell me?! We have to go get him!"
"We can't…They have to keep him until his court date on Thursday"
Rose sighed, more worried than upset. "Surely, it's a false charge…" She shrugged, in denial that her gangster of an eldest child was caught doing something illegal.
"The arresting officer has audio evidence against him…As well as witnesses ready to testify what they saw."
Rose let out a gasp; it couldn't be true. She clenched her jaw, asking, "What…were…the charges?" trying her best not to cry.
Tommy hesitated, "…Connection to attempted murder…"
"Oh, my aching Jesus!" Rose sighed, wishing it weren't true.
"It's not 100% clear that it was him…The audio evidence could be misleading if you don't listen to it in context."
"Do you have a copy?" Rose asked, still trying to take all of this information in.
"They wouldn't allow it…They'll have it played only in court to avoid any tampering" Tommy explained.
"So, we can't go see him?" Rose asked, a pleading tone in her voice.
"I don't think so" Tommy shook his head. It was highly unlikely because he was in a holding cell with other people, and likely to be moved around if he acted out; which was almost definite to happen, given his temper.
For the next little while, they sat in silence, until Mary Kate let herself in. She sat quietly with them for a while, then asked, "…So, what are we going to do about Michael?" It was a fair question; and one that had to be asked eventually. No one said a word, which was somewhat upsetting. "Somebody has to do something" Mary Kate looked up to both of her brothers no matter what, and she couldn't let Michael go to jail, even if he was guilty.
Meanwhile, back in the holding cell, a repeat offender was being booked and taken back to the cell that Michael was in. He took one look at Michael; who currently sat, curled up in the furthest corner of the cell; and smirked, "Well, aren't you adorable?" Michael shifted uncomfortably, and the man smiled, "What're you in for, jailbait?"
Michael's jaw clenched in discomfort, then his lip curled into a snarl; a protective gesture; as he muttered, "Attempt murder." He wasn't going to mess with this guy; he'd see right through him.
The man seemed impressed, and sat next to Michael, touching his leg; to which, Michael flinched; and said, "You think you're a tough guy?"
"Piss off," Michael groaned, "I'm not in the mood for conversation…"
"Ooh!" The man laughed, "Cranky, are we, sweetheart?" leaning in close to brush a hand around Michael's ear, touching his hair. Michael flinched again, and the man asked, "Not so touchy-feely, honey?"
"Not with you" Michael growled.
"Aw, honey, that hurt" The man sighed, mock-insulted, holding his heart.
"Good," Michael smiled, nodding to the bench on the other side of the room, "Go sit over there and be hurt." The man eventually moved, seeing Michael was uncomfortable, and respecting that, and Michael smirked, "Just…stay over there…and wait for your pal, Bubba, to satisfy you…"
The man was quick to stand, getting right in Michael's face, "The FUCK did you just say?!" He held Michael by the collar, ready to knock him out for being a smartass.
"You heard me" Michael smiled.
A visiting corrections officer came upon the scene of the two men about to go at each other, and grabbed another officer, opening the cell, shouting, "HEY! BREAK IT UP, IN HERE!" as he peeled Michael away from the bigger guy.
The officer that actually worked at the station took Michael from the visiting corrections officer, and said, "You're going to a new cell, buddy"
"I didn't do anything!" Michael protested as the officer shoved him along the hallway to a new holding cell, where he'd be alone once more.
"Yeah…But you're smaller than him…Easier to control than the bigger guy." The officer smiled, holding Michael by the handcuffs, and by the back of the neck.
"Yeah?" Michael smiled, "Just 'cause I'm smaller than him?" The officer nodded, and Michael stopped walking, leaning closer to him as he unlocked the new cell. "I'm bigger than you…"
"But you don't have the balls to fight with a cop, do you?" The officer grinned, unlocking the cuffs. "Not quite like your Daddy." Michael was about to let it go, but the 'daddy' comment put him past his breaking point. Once he was uncuffed, there was a very brief window of opportunity for him to turn around and punch the officer in the mouth before he would be led into his cell.
Of course, he never made it to the cell. After a skirmish with the officer; who called for backup, while other 'prisoners' cheered Michael on with every strike to the officer's face; Michael was hauled up onto his feet by a senior sergeant by the name of Cherry Mills. Michael soon felt his entire body tensing up in…fear? Was he scared of her? No. Never. She just yanked him up from the floor with one hand…Maybe just a little bit scared.
"Calm down, little guy!" She laughed, standing him upright. "You're a scrappy little fella, aren't you?" When Michael's jaw clenched, she decided to tease him a bit. "What?" She smiled. Michael gave no response. "Looks to me…like someone's got some Daddy issues." Michael stiffened up, attempting to keep his temper. Cherry pulled him in closer, and smiled, "Did Daddy keep a belt for a best friend?"
"What?" Michael asked, confused.
Cherry rested her hand on his shoulder, smiling, "Did Daddy spank you a lot as a kid?"
"What do you think?" Michael smirked.
"I'm thinking weekly basis"
"Daily" Michael answered.
Sergeant Mills smiled, "Ooh! Naughty, naughty boy!" and led him into another new cell, where he awaited his court date.