Pairings/Characters (this chapter): Frank Nitti, Phil D’Andrea
Series Notes: Tears Of The Saints will deal with the Outfit/Syndicate (aka the Mob) and how they cross paths with the Dillinger Gang and the Bureau of Investigation. It helps to have first-hand knowledge of Italian culture and Catholicism. ;)
Fandom: Public Enemies
Genres: AU, Drama
Rating (this chapter): PG-13
General Summary: When the Syndicate needs the special talents of John Dillinger, they take out insurance that he will do the job they want by kidnapping someone near and dear to his heart: Melvin Purvis.
Chapter Summary: Gossip gets around.
Date Of Completion: January 24, 2010
Date Of Posting: February 19, 2010
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Universal does, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 488
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
The entire series can be found here.
Old Sicilian Proverb
19th Century, C.E.
“Guess what I heard about Dandy Dillinger?”
Phil D’Andrea was sitting with his boss, Frank Nitti, in a corner of The Montmatre Club, drinking cappuccinos and enjoying cannolis. One thing about working with his fellow Italians: the food and drink were the best.
The club was a social club for Italian and Italian-American men to come and hang out. It was filled with solid, dark furniture and dark-red velvet drapes at the windows, with an excellent kitchen and discreet staff, mostly made up of young Italian men fresh off the boat from the Old Country who could barely speak English. Opera, especially Caruso music, was usually played on the phonograph at low volume for background ambience.
Oh, and the place really made a good front for the Syndicate, too.
“That he’s a little light in the loafers.”
“What?” Phil almost choked on his drink.
Nitti sipped his cappuccino. “I have it on good authority.” His gaze was sharp. “You know a lot about Dillinger. Why would he want to do such a thing, get into a man’s pants?”
Phil carefully thought out his answer. It was true that he admired John Dillinger. Phil had no illusions about himself. He was made for quiet, behind-the-scenes work, but he liked to live vicariously through Jackrabbit Johnny.
Phil didn’t give a crap who John was fucking. It didn’t make him any less of a bank robber or a guy who knew how to charm the public.
But the Italians (mostly Sicilians) who made up the Outfit were, like most cultures, disdainful of homosexuality at best and violently hostile at worst. He was an anomaly on the subject, but kept that fact to himself for obvious reasons.
“I don’t know, Frank. Johnny’s a maverick, so I guess he is about his personal life, too.” He shrugged. “Probably picked up the habit in prison.”
Nitti looked disgusted. “Should keep that crap in prison. He could have any broad he wanted. Why go the nancy boy route?”
Phil didn’t respond. He had given his opinion. He took a swallow of his drink.
Nitti shook his head. “No values. This Dillinger…he has talent, but no discipline. He wouldn’t last a day in the Organization.” He waved his hand, signet ring winking in the light. “We wouldn’t put up with such crap. Pfft, men born in this country lack Old World values. I got no respect for a finnochio.” The word was disrespectful slang for homosexual. “Though he’s probably not a busone.”
Phil couldn’t see Johnny as a passive recipient in a homosexual relationship, either. Despite himself, he asked, “Is he going through a bunch of guys or does he have a steady side dish?”
Nitti snorted. “That’s rich. No buffet for our Indiana dandy. Strictly side dish.”
“Anyone we know?”
Nitti’s smile was predatory. “Melvin Purvis.”