This chapter is short because it's a gratuitous torture scene and contains little plot.
Vito reached the bar and snaked one hand over, snagging the collar of the retreating bartender.
"Come on, man. Don't bate me bag!" the bartender pled, his accent thicker as he succumbed to panic. But it was for naught, since Vito yanked him over the counter, dragging him across the wood and spilling the drinks that the fleeing patrons had left behind.
"Maybe now you know where Kilkenny is?" Vito asked, his voice barely a whisper. The man shrank back in his grasp.
"Nay, I don't. Really I don't," he said. He yelped as Vito started to move, dragging the man with him across the bar toward a door set into one wall. He tossed the man through the door into a bathroom.
"What, you goin to give me a swirly, mate?" the man taunted. Vito ignored him and silently pulled a bunch of paper towels from a dispenser on one wall. The man watched in befuddled curiosity as Vito stuffed the towels into the drain of one of the white ceramic sinks lining the wall adjacent to the door. He turned on the water and it began to fill the bowl. The man leaned closer to look.
"Yer going to wash your-" he started, but he couldn't finish, because Vito grabbed him by the back of the head and shoved his face down into the sink. The man's nose cracked against the tile bottom and blood mingled with the rising water as he snorted and tried to escape Vito's grasp. Vito yanked his head back and addressed the sputtering man.
"It's been a few minutes since I last asked. Have you seen him yet?" Vito asked.
"Are you daft? You're a cop!" the man said.
"We'll give it another minute then," Vito said, and she pushed the man back down into the bowl. Waves and bubbles arose from the water as the man thrashed and gurgled. But his struggles were no match for Vito's iron grip.
When Vito finally hauled the man up, he gasped for breath and heaved like a fish. A pinkish trail of watery blood oozed from his nose, and his hair was disheveled from the struggle.
"Did I give you enough time?" Vito asked, his quiet voice playful.
"What do you mean, enough-" the man started. He shrieked as Vito started to plunge him back in.
"All right! All right!" the man relented. Vito pulled him back up and let go of him, watching with an expectant smile.
"All right, I've seen him," the man said defeatedly. "He comes in once in a while. He hasn't been in in a long time."
"And why might that be?" Vito asked.
"I don't- he's working on something!" the man said as Vito pulled him a step closer to the sink by his collar.
"Something nice, maybe? A good old Fourth of July party?" Vito pressed.
"He doesn't want anyone to know about it," the man said. He looked away from Vito's probing gaze.
"I'm sure he'll understand," Vito said.
"I can't-" the man said, and was again cut off. This time, Vito didn't release him after he pulled him from the water. The man sputtered incoherently for a moment before he spoke.
"He's going to blow something up," he said.
"No shit. Where?" Vito asked. The man looked back at the water. Vito pushed him an inch closer to the water and the man relented.
"The hospital, all right? He's going to blow up the hospital," the man said.
"Which one?" Vito demanded impatiently. There were dozens of hospitals scattered across New York City's massive sprawl.
"The new one. The one for the kids," the man said. Rage filled Vito as he made the connection. Cooper Pediatric Hospital was adding a new wing devoted to recreation and play therapy for its young residents. Any children well enough to be out of bed would be attending the ribbon-cutting ceremony, as well as the city's mayor.
"Ah, feck me. Carver's not going to be happy about this," the man said as Vito went through the scenario in his head. The bartender noted his faraway gaze and interrupted.
"Right, I told you. Let me go, yeah?" he asked. But instead, Vito's hand moved from his collar to his throat, and the man's already colorless skin paled.
"You'd let them die?" Vito's nearly inaudible voice was tight as a wire. The man vainly tried to claw free of his grip.
"Carver would've killed me if I told. He will now anyway," the man choked out. Vito walked with him further into the bathroom.
"What are you doing now?" the man squeaked.
"Putting you where you belong," Vito said. He picked the man up one-handed and threw him across the room. He flew threw the swinging stall door and smashed headfirst into the back of the toilet in the handicapped stall, falling limply across the bowl.
"With the rest of the shit."
