Chapter 19 – Crisis

Tony DiNozzo

October 1932

He woke with a jolt and looked around his darkened bedroom. Something had awoken him from a sound sleep. He didn't know what it was but the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up on end.

He rubbed his eyes and checked the time. It was almost four o'clock in the morning. He'd only been asleep for a little over an hour after returning from a night out at Quicksilver. Closing his eyes again, he tried to go back to sleep but as soon as he closed his eyes, he knew it was futile. He was wide awake.

He wasn't sure what had woken him. Had it been a dream? Nightmare? Sixth sense?

Whatever it was, he wasn't going to get back to bed without checking their apartment.

Sliding out of bed, he grabbed his weapon from his bedside table and checked it. Padding through the darkness, he slipped out of his bedroom and walked over to the window. Pulling back the curtain slightly, he glanced outside. The streets were wet again and the only cars on the road were the ones parked on either side of the street. The only movement came from a few fallen leaves that were skittering down the road in a light breeze.

Leaving the living room, he made his way to the kitchen and checked the window to the fire escape. It was still secure and the small mirror he had set up showed him that no one was on the fire escape below their apartment. Satisfied, he walked back to the living room and was going to go back to bed when he decided to take one last look outside.

This time when he pulled back the curtain, a car was traveling towards their building and as he watched, it pulled into an open parking space. The headlights turned off and a dark figure stepped out of the rear passenger seat. A moment later, a pair of men got out of the car, one of them was checking a weapon. The first figure waved them off and they reluctantly returned to the car. At this distance and in the dark, he couldn't tell who the men were but he knew it couldn't be anything good.

Gut churning, he left his room and hurried to Tim's. He listened for a moment to make sure nothing was going on that he didn't want to interrupt without knocking first. When he heard nothing, he opened the door and entered the dark room. Tim and Abby were both asleep.

Not for long, he thought. "McGee, wake up." He roughly shook Tim's shoulder to wake him and hastily backed away as Tim's arm snaked out from under the covers towards his weapon. "Hey," he hissed as he pulled it out of Tim's reach. "I need that."

"Tony? Jeez," Tim said collapse back onto his pillow in relief as Abby woke and pulled the covers up a little higher. "You shouldn't wake me up with a gun in hand. I could have shot you."

"With what?" he asked puzzled.

"This," Tim replied as he pulled a revolver out from under his pillow with his right hand. He smiled with pride.

"What's going on?" Abby asked her voice heavy with sleep.

"Someone is coming into our building," he replied.

"You woke me up to tell me that someone is coming into our building?" Tim asked incredulously. "Tony, we live in a large apartment building. It was probably one of the other tenants."

"The other tenants in our building don't come with a pair of goons packing heat," he said. "And I have a bad feeling."

Tim nodded and slipped out of bed. Thankfully his partner wasn't naked although like him, Tim was only in his shorts even though the weather had turned colder.

"Stay here, Abs," Tim said as he traded his small revolver for his pistol from the bedside table.

"Cover me," he said. They left Tim's bedroom and Tim pulled the door shut. Tim took up a position in the bathroom door while he padded over to the door and glanced through the peep hole. In the faint hall light, he watched as a man stepped off the elevator and started towards their apartment.

The man was portly and he had a suspicion he knew who was coming to pay a call but he wasn't sure. It was tough to see through the blurry peep hole.

He motioned to Tim to be ready. He couldn't see Tim's response but he trusted that Tim was prepared.

Suddenly someone started to knock on the door. A moment later, the polite knock turned into pounding.

"Who's there?" he asked cautiously.

"Your mother," a familiar voice replied. "Open up, DiNozzo."

He turned and looked at Tim who had stepped into the hall. In the faint light from the street lights, he watched as Tim glanced at the dining table. He followed his partners gaze and recalled that Tim had cleared up his copy of the books before leaving for Quicksilver last night. Tim nodded at him.

He unlocked the door and pulled it open as Tim entered the living room and turned on a light.

"What's with the pistol?" Napolitano asked as he entered their apartment. Jimmy glanced at him then at Tim and the weapons in their hands.

"I get a little nervous when someone tries to bang down the door at four in the morning," he retorted as he shut and locked the door.

Napolitano looked at Tim. "So, what's your excuse?"

"I get nervous when he gets nervous," Tim replied as Abby entered the living room, tying up her black robe. She had evidently decided it was safe to join them after she recognized Napolitano's voice.

Napolitano looked at Abby then at Tim. "I didn't realize you had company."

"You practically knocked down my door at four in the morning. I don't think that you particularly care either," Tim retorted. Jimmy snorted and shook his head. Tim replaced the safety and transferred the weapon to his right hand, holding it by the barrel. It was a small motion but it showed that Tim trusted Jimmy.

Tim might be at ease with Napolitano but he wasn't so trusting. He didn't have his finger on the trigger, but the safety was still off. In the seven months since they had lived in this apartment, Napolitano hadn't stopped by once. He couldn't help but be suspicious that Jimmy was here now and his only consolation was that Jimmy had left the muscle in the car. Chances were good that Jimmy wasn't here to personally bump off McGee.

But he wasn't going to take any chances.

When Jimmy didn't say anything, Tim asked, "I take it that there is some business you wanted to discuss that couldn't wait until Monday?"

"I didn't drop by for tea," Napolitano retorted.

"Give me a moment to get dressed," Tim said as he returned to his room with Abby on his heels.

After Tim had gone, Jimmy looked at their apartment appreciatively. Given the quality of the furnishings in the apartment when they arrived, they hadn't replaced any of the furniture. But they had filled it with their things. He had acquired a few posters from various films that he had enjoyed. Those were framed and hung on their walls. Tim had filled their shelves with dozens of records of famous jazz musicians and a fancy gramophone stood on a side table near the windows.

"Nice place," Jimmy said off-handedly.

"We're attached to it," he said, making sure to use a thicker Italian accent.

Fortunately, Tim returned now wearing pants and an undershirt, saving them both from making any more small talk. He could just see Abby lurking in the shadows just beyond Napolitano's eyesight. "What do you need, Mr. Napolitano?"

But instead of responding, Jimmy started to pace their living room. He wondered what Naps was thinking since something was bothering the larger man. He looked like he was arguing with himself, almost as if he was uncertain about what he was doing. He glanced at Tim but a subtle shake of his partner's head told him that Tim was clueless as he was.

"Can I get you a drink?" Tim asked. "I don't keep much on hand. We have some wine, a little beer." Jimmy shook his head. "Or perhaps some coffee?"

"Only if you put some whiskey into it," Jimmy retorted.

"I don't care for whiskey," he replied. "I prefer scotch and putting that into coffee would be a waste." Jimmy chuckled. "But we're out of scotch at the moment. We do have a bottle of a Russian spirit. Vodka and tonic?"

"Sure, sure," Naps said nodding. "I need to talk to you. And I'd like it better if DiNozzo put some clothes on."

He looked at himself. He was only clad in his shorts. Tim nodded.

"Sure." Tim looked at him and motioned for him to do as Jimmy asked.

Reluctantly, he nodded. He quickly returned to his room and pulled on a pair of pants and a t-shirt. He hesitated a moment before he grabbed his shoulder holster and tucked his weapon inside. When he returned to the living room, Jimmy was gone and Tim was speaking softly to Abby. She looked nervous and only reluctantly returned to bed.

"I'll keep an eye on things," he said as he pointed between the door and the front street. Tim nodded.

Tim took a bracing breath and walked through the living room. He watched through the open doors as Tim poured two drinks while Napolitano paced in the dining area. He repressed a smile as he watched Tim pour the drinks. One was mostly vodka and the other was mostly tonic water.

Tim motioned for Napolitano to take a seat at their table but Jimmy continued to pace the length of the dining room. Tim watched him for a moment before he said, "The plans for Abby's big Halloween party Monday night are coming along nicely. Word is it'll be the biggest costume party in the city. Abby had to restrict it to invitations only." Napolitano nodded absently. "It's already sold out."

"Sounds great," Jimmy said, clearly not hearing a word of what Tim had said.

"You should see my costume," Tim continued. "It has these tight red leather pants."

"Can't wait to see it," Jimmy said.

He looked at Tim and mimed being sick. Tim frowned.

"Mr. Napolitano, I can see you're preoccupied since you haven't heard a word I've said," Tim said firmly. "Is there something I can do for you?"

Jimmy stopped his pacing and looked at Tim. "Forgive me, Tim," Jimmy said as he sipped his drink. "I have a lot on my mind."

"I can see that," Tim said. "I'm happy to help you in any way I can."

"I know," Jimmy replied as he began to pace again. "You've been more than helpful since you came on in March. You quickly proved what I knew to start: that you were the best man for the job."

"I'm glad I lived up to your high expectations," Tim said clearly pleased at the praise.

"Not just lived up to them," Jimmy said. "You exceeded them! Take what happened after the Angel was raided. With your suggestions, we hardly skipped a beat. And now that the Angel is back, we're doing better than ever."

Tim sipped his drink. "I only made suggestions that I thought would help. I'm glad they did."

"That wasn't the only time you saw a way to improve things," Jimmy said. "And that's why I'm here. I need to talk to someone," Jimmy replied softly so that he almost didn't hear what Jimmy was saying. Of course, it made it harder since he was trying to look like he wasn't listening in on their conversation. "To someone I trust. Things happened and I need to talk it out. But with what happened, I don't trust nobody."

"Nobody?" Tim asked in surprise. "Not even Ricky?"

"No," Jimmy said seriously. "Not even my son."

"But you trust me?" Tim asked slowly.

He had a feeling he knew what had happened although he was surprised that it had happened so soon.

They had run through the list of names in Napolitano's ledgers but hadn't found anyone on the payroll from the Bureau except for Fornell. But after six weeks of clandestine meetings with Fornell, none of them, including Gibbs, believed that Fornell was their guy.

Which meant that he had been right. Jimmy was playing his cards close to his vest and probably took care of paying the mole personally and definitely off book. So, they had to figure out the identity of the mole the old-fashioned way: through gathering evidence, narrowing the list of suspects and discovering his identity by deduction.

But with a network as broad and as deep as Napolitano's, it wasn't going to be easy. Good thing for them, they had McGee. Complicated deductions, data analysis and puzzle-solving were right up Tim's alley. If anyone could find a way to ferret out the mole, it would be his partner.

Over the past six weeks and with Fornell's help, they had narrowed the list of potential moles within the Bureau and Prohibition Unit. They were going to run some tests to help narrow that list even further and he knew that those tests involved raids on various pieces of Napolitano's network.

Tim had given Gibbs a list of targets but they had turned over the timing of the next stage to Gibbs. For one, they didn't want to know if a raid was coming so they could plead ignorance. But also, they trusted Gibbs' gut and that he would well-time the raids.

One or more of those raids must have happened this past weekend.

Napolitano stopped and looked at Tim. "I do and I think that you realize that I don't offer my trust lightly especially after what happened with your predecessor."

"I know," Tim replied. "It is one thing to trust me with your books but it is quite another to come to me for advice in the middle of the night."

"It is," Jimmy said seriously. "Of course, you're wondering why I turned up on your doorstep at this hour."

Tim smiled slightly. "The thought did cross my mind."

"Of course it did," Jimmy said with a laugh. "Some things have happened and I need to talk it out with someone I trust. Someone I know who isn't greedy or wants a piece of me. I need to talk to someone who doesn't have a dog in this fight."

"Did someone within your network attempt to overthrow you?" Tim asked in alarm.

He held his breath while he waited for Napolitano to reply. It was tough enough worrying about the Frog and the law. What if he had to worry about an internal civil war with Jimmy's people?

"Naw," Jimmy said sipping his drink. "If it were just that, I wouldn't be so worried. I've had my fair share of men who thought they could overthrow the king and I know how to deal with them. They get the same treatment traitors get."

Tim relaxed and he did the same.

"No, what I need now is someone who is fair and impartial," Jimmy continued. "Someone with an analytical mind who isn't in it to make a buck for himself. That's you." Tim looked surprised. "I trust you because you don't seem the material type, Tim. You don't seem like you need much. You have a good home, food on the table and a good woman. You aren't greedy."

"It's all a man should want from life," Tim said cautiously.

He didn't disagree with Napolitano. It was all that a man should want and he knew that his partner was extremely happy right now. They had a good home, they didn't want for anything and Abby was the best thing that had happened to his partner in his life. Of course, they would be happier if they didn't have to worry about their cover being blown and being killed in some horrific manner. And he knew that Tim still took it to heart every time something he did led to someone's death.

"It should be," Jimmy said pointedly. "I was never happier than when my wife, God rest her soul," Jimmy said as he crossed himself. "Was alive. I had my wife by my side, my boy and my business was successful. But there are men out there that aren't like you and me, Tim. Greedy men and unfortunately my business breeds them. I'm afraid to say that my son is one of them."

"Ricky?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, Ricky," Jimmy said. "You see, I encourage competition among my lieutenants. It can be healthy plus if everyone is putting in their best efforts, we all win." Tim nodded in understanding. "But when Ricky steps on Victor Flores' toes because he wants to one up the gambling parlors, it'll help Ricky but it'll hurt Victor."

"And the bottom line suffers," Tim inferred.

"Exactly!" Jimmy said as he began to pace again. "And when Ricky's brothels ain't doing so well and he needs some extra cash, I might not have it. He'd rather throw Victor under the bus to make himself look better. Victor and the others aren't any better."

"I can see how that would be frustrating," Tim agreed as he looked through the doors at him.

He shrugged. He had no idea where Jimmy was going with this either. But at four in the morning, a mostly ossified Italian mafioso wasn't going to make much sense to anyone.

"It's also why I can't trust Ricky enough to talk to him about what happened," Jimmy said. "That's also not to mention that he's got about as much business sense as a box of rocks. That's why I put him in charge of the brothels. He can't do much damage there since they have their own managers."

Tony mentally translated managers to pimps and madams as he moved to the front window to check the street below.

"Although Ricky does have a bad habit of sampling the merchandise," Napolitano continued, swaying slightly on his feet. "He's been going 'round with this girl Tiffany. Good thing his mother has passed, it would kill my wife to know our son was sleeping with a cheap prostitute."

Realizing that they had gone off topic, he cleared his throat.

Tim looked at him then at Jimmy. He nodded, indicating that he realized they had strayed. He nodded in return, knowing that Tim would bring them back to task.

"Wait, DiNozzo can hear us?" Jimmy asked.

Tim walked to the doors and looked at him. "Did you have something to add Tony?" Tim asked.

"Huh?" he asked playing dumb. "Nah, Tim. Had a tickle in my throat. Did you need something? I was watching the tenant from number seven stagger home. I didn't think you were talking to me so I wasn't listening."

"No, I think we're fine," Tim replied, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Rule number seven. Always be specific when you lie. "Even if he was paying attention, you can trust Tony, Mr. Napolitano. He can keep a secret with the best of them."

Jimmy looked at him and he nodded before he returned his attention to the street.

"So, what happened?" Tim asked as he mulled over the information that Jimmy didn't trust his own son. That could be useful. Or dangerous. Especially if Little Ricky didn't take too kindly to his father taking someone else like Tim into his confidences. "Since I doubt you're here to complain about your son's choice of girlfriends."

"The Feds," Napolitano said bitterly as he picked up his drink and downed half of it in one swallow. Tim sighed and sipped the drink before sitting down. "Hoover's boys had a good weekend. Between them and the police they raided four clubs, two gambling parlors, three brothels and they took down one of my suppliers. It would've been worse if I didn't have people strategically located within the system."

"Did they raid any of Grenouille's clubs?" Tim asked as his eyes widened in shock. Naps shook his head. "So, you're being targeted," Tim said. "This wasn't a generalized sweep."

Napolitano snorted. "Of course I'm being targeted!" he said loudly. So loudly, in fact, that he jumped slightly. Napolitano glanced at him then lowered his voice. "I'm the BOI's dream bust in this city! And if not them, the Prohis would be happy to have my head too! Grenouille isn't big enough in this city to concern the Feds yet. But if they continue to target me, he'll get bigger. You'd think that they'd prefer an American businessman to some slimy Frenchman."

Tim wisely decided that it probably wasn't the best time to point out that Napolitano was Italian by birth as he would have done. And that was why Tim was in the position he was. Tim knew when to hold his tongue. He didn't. His smart mouth had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. Then again, he also used his mouth to get himself out of trouble on numerous occasions too. It was a double-edged sword.

"So, you came here to ask me for advice?" Tim asked. "On how to run your business?" Jimmy nodded. "At four in the morning?"

"I know," Jimmy said. "I know. And I promise I'll make it up to you for interrupting your special time with that weird bird of yours." Tony glanced at Tim's bedroom door. He could have sworn he heard an indignant retort from Abby. "But like what happened when the Angel was raided, quick action can stem the bleeding," Jimmy said. "And you know more about my business that even I do."

"Oh," Tim said hastily. "I don't know about that," Tim replied. Jimmy looked at Tim meaningfully. "I know a lot Jimmy. But there are still things about your business I don't know. But perhaps if we work together, we can try to limit the damage. If there's a pattern to the raids we'll find it. And if someone isn't doing their job and warning you, we'll figure it out."

"Good," Jimmy said as he finished his drink. "I knew I could count on you, my boy."

"Ok. Let me get some paper and a pen and we can work this out," Tim said. "And perhaps a refill? Four clubs, two gambling parlors, three brothels and a bootlegger is a lot but I'll bet we can limit the damages."

Napolitano nodded as he held out his empty glass. "You're right, Tim. No sense getting worked up about this. Now is the time to remain calm."

"Right," Tim said as he stood and collected Napolitano's glass. Tim set it on their liquor cabinet where he would refill it in a moment.

As Tim entered the living room, he met his partner's eye. He couldn't say anything but after living together for seven months and working together for so long, he knew what Tim was thinking. Jimmy taking Tim into his confidence was both good and bad. It meant that Jimmy didn't suspect that Tim wasn't what he pretended to be. He trusted Tim fully.

But it also increased the risk. If they put too much pressure on Jimmy and his lieutenants knew Tim had Jimmy's ear, they could blame Tim for their losses. And that meant they would be at risk from Jimmy's people too. The stakes had just gone up.