Across the mouth of the Charles river in the parking lot by the USS Leyte memorial sat Paul’s old Jeep. Amos was standing next to the jeep and staring across the river at the North End. He was listening intently and Alanah was sitting on the roof of the jeep with a pair 2nd generation night vision goggles that Paul had given her to look at the smoke.

  He didn’t need to look. The sounds of the sirens in the distance told him all that he needed to know but he could tell Alanah was getting a kick out of watching the early morning sky through the specialized glasses.

  “Wow…there is just soooo much smoke. Are you sure the building isn’t burning? I would totally be fine with if it was by the way.”

  “Nope, no chance. Those smudge pots just produce smoke and these two seem to be doing a damn fine job of it so far as I can tell. These things are meant to be set out in the open air so I can’t imagine how much smoke there was in that building by the time they busted the windows open.”

  “Why wouldn’t all the smoke just put out the smudge pot fires then if it couldn’t get out?”

  Paul was a bit taken aback by Alanah’s query, it was a pretty technical aspect of the pots and he was surprised that she even thought of it.

  “Good question….well, I used some simple charcoal briquettes in the mixtures, they would have gotten good and hot in the initial burn and as soon as the smoke choked out the flames then the embers in the briquettes would just smolder away for hours….just waitin’ for enough air to relight the pot.”

  Amos spoke up in his flat monotone voice. “I don’t think they have even entered the building yet. It sounds like all the crews are still just outside.”

  “Well then, that worked as intended and better than expected.” Paul allowed a small smile. “Once they get inside and see the pots and alla’ the alarms cut down well….” He paused and smiled a little bit wider. “Well, no offence to you kids but they are gonna know that there is someone who knows what they are doing that is helpin’ ya. That should really scare em’ but if not…. then let’s go an’ really make sure they get good and worried.”

  Paul turned to Alanah on the roof of the Jeep. “Come on then, pack those up in the case and be sure to latch it. That’s thousands of dollars you’re holding there. We’ve gotta’ get moving. It’s almost five thirty in the morning and it will still be mighty quiet at our next stop but not for long. Let’s get on the road”.

  The old Jeep reversed in the empty parking lot and then turned and made its way out to the road. There was no hurry, no need to attract attention, Paul just moved on to the next location as if he had done this many times before.

  It was a short drive to Chelsea Massachusetts especially at this early morning hour. For their next stop, Paul had chosen Cusanelli Auto Sales, a family owned used car dealership at Pearl and Williams Street. The building was an ugly grey rectangle of concrete blocks and roll up garage doors surrounded by a big parking lot that sprawled out on either side of the building.

  Besides being a valuable family asset Paul had liked that it was located out of the way in Cheslea and that there were no homes or residential buildings that looked out directly onto the lot. It helped that the lot wasn’t fenced in either.

  “Perfect, no dogs, no people and the lighting is poor as well.” Paul pulled up along the side of the lot on Williams Street and reached into the back seat. “Here, put these on and come round back to get the rest of your equipment.”

  As Amos and Alanah pulled on high visibility safety vests, Paul brought out a bucket and a paint roller brush with a short handle. He handed the bucket to Alanah and then gave her a large piece of rigid coroplast board with a pattern cut out of it.

  “It’s real simple. Slap the stencil flat on the middle of the hood and drag the wet roller across once and then move onto the next one. I’ll follow behind taping the fast burning Visco cannon fuse to each hood. Amos, you stay in the middle of the lot and watch an’ listen for any trouble but keep washin’ the car windshields, make a show of it.”

  He handed Amos his bucket and squeegee. “Anyone that slows down and looks at what we’re doin’, I want them to see you first in your safety vest washin’ car windows. That way they’ll think we’re both cleaning the cars too.”

  He pointed down the street. “We’re gonna start at the far end and work our way back to the Jeep.” Traffic will soon start to build so we’d best hurry. We’ve got fifteen minutes tops to do this. Let’s go.”

  “Are you worried Paul, we’re kinda’ exposed out here by the street aren’t we?” Alanah seemed more than a bit concerned with wearing the bright orange and yellow vest she had on.

  “That’s why we’re hiding in plain sight. The vest makes us visible, like we’re supposed to be here and the cleaning tools are just props. Only risk will be if someone who knows the lot passes by and figures that we shouldn’t be here.” Paul opened his vest to show off his holstered handgun. “If there is any trouble, I can take care off it quickly so let me deal with it.”

  Alanah quickly got into a rhythm, slapping the stencil down, roll the brush across while pressing down hard, grab the stencil while holding the bucket and then move onto the next car. Paul’s job was trickier. He had to unroll a fuse and tape it onto the hood and run it across the wet stencil marks but at least he had a small hand held packing tape dispenser to make it faster.

  There were just over fifty cars on either side of the building, and it took them almost fifteen minutes to get them all done.

  “Get in the Jeep, I’ve got one last touch for this building since we’ve got a minute to spare. Amos, can you drive?

  When the boy nodded solemnly Paul instructed him to get behind the wheel and start the Jeep and wait. Paul grabbed two cans of spray paint and walked confidently along the sidewalk and then turned towards the building.

  It was a stretch for the shorter man but he managed to reach up and spray out the name Cusanelli with black paint. The can was a fast drying spray paint and he used it all to block out the name entirely. He dropped the can and popped the cap of the second can. The black paint wasn’t dry yet but the mess it made with the red paint he added next only added to the effect.

  When he was done, Paul was quite pleased with the result. He tossed the second can and walked back to the Jeep while pulling off his rubber gloves.

  When he got back at his car, he took a look around. The street was quiet, just the occasional early morning commuter trundling along to work, bleary eyed, unseeing and sipping on the first coffee of the day. Well, that would soon change thought Paul as he leaned over to light the end of the Visco fuse on the car nearby.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

  As the Jeep pulled away Paul saw his trail of flame split into three after the first car hood. He believed in redundancy and he had divided up the fuse in a few inter-connected length of chain fuses to make sure it stayed lit.

  “Was that really necessary? I thought you said this fuse would burn under water once it was lit”.

  Paul liked how the girl challenged anything she was unsure of, she didn’t take anything for granted. He thought that it was a good quality for someone to have, especially for a young vulnerable person.

  Once again Paul caught himself thinking about how nice it would have been to have a daughter like her and he felt his heart ache about what could have been before he could banish the thought from his mind.

  He was glad to help these two kids but it came at a cost, a lot of old memories and unresolved feelings were coming to the surface again and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear it all.

  Alanah sensed the internal conflict in Paul at times like this and while she didn’t know what he was struggling with she was aware enough to let him regain himself without pressing him further. After all, she had been supressing the same type of internal struggles for over a year now and she was very familiar with the look and feel of emotional pain.

  After a moment Paul spoke. “It’s just in case someone with half a brain gets there and is able to cut the fuse. Best to split it up right away so that it will be much faster to ignite them all and much harder to stop.

  In the end, it did not matter. Amos made a slow loop down Williams street to Park street and then back along Pearl Street on their way to East Boston and ultimately the highway. As they drove down Pearl Street they were able to admire their work as a multitude of small fires engulfed the car lot.

  Cusanelli Auto Sales which had been featured prominently on the main sign had been hastily changed into Cursed Auto Sales with the blood red letters dripping down and mixing with the newly applied black paint to give the sign a demonic look.

  On either side of the building each vehicle had a small blaze burning steadily and brightly on the hood. The mixture that Alanah had applied to the stencil had spelled out the word “Cursed” in elaborate block letters. The Visco fuse had set each word alight in a steady slow burning fire that would leave a charred residue to form the letter once it had burned through.

  As they got close to the bridge Paul pulled out a phone and called a pre-programmed number. “It’s done. Go to Pearl Street and Williams Street and make sure you have your camera. Don’t linger too long, we’ve really kicked over the hornet’s nest tonight and there will be lots of tough guys looking to grab just about anyone for this. When you are done there, go to the Rosetta bakery, you won’t be disappointed, but you need to hurry to Pearl Street now.”

  As the crossed the bridge Paul threw the phone into the water below and remarked “let’s hope they decide to start swarming around that old crone now…. we’ve certainly given them enough reason too.”

  “Who was that person that you just called?” Alanah asked from the back seat.

  After giving Amos directions to the highway Paul was able to answer. “That is or at least was, a young hungry journalist that I would feed information to when I wanted the newspaper to leak information. I called him up yesterday and told him to be ready this morning, I would have something for him.”

  He continued “I’ve never met him, I couldn’t ever let him know that I was a cop…..was a cop. So he has no idea who I am, but my tips always gave him a great story so I am sure he will jump on this one.

  “What do you think he will write about, I mean, how is he going to interpret this? I mean…just that this whole situation is just….nuts.” Alanah wasn’t sure of her question but Paul knew what she meant.

  “That’s why I wanted him to go to the Rosetta Bakery next. The streets will be overflowing with gossip, wild accusations and anger. They will practically write the story for him, he just needs to listen. By the time he gets there, rumours about la Famigilia will just be starting to hit the streets and then, it’s really going to boil over.”

  Paul laughed, a genuine hearty laugh and continued. “I can’t wait to see the photos and read the headlines, it’s going to be sensational. Can either of you read Italian? There are some local papers that are just batshit crazy for this kind of stuff. When their next addition comes out….oh boy… that’s going to be a wild read!”

  Justin Holmes pulled up behind the many cars illegally parked along Pearl Street who were watching the spectacle in the car lot. What in the hell happened here? It’s June not goddamned Halloween. Who would do this and why?

  Two police cars had arrived at the scene but according to a bystander, the fire trucks were late, most had responded to a fire in the North End and that included the Chelsea Fire Department. Their station house, even though further away was very close to the Northeast Expressway, making the station one of faster ones to respond to a fire in the North End so off they had gone.

  Many small fires still burned in the car lot but a lot of the car hoods were now just slowly smoldering and eventually going out. The combustible waxy paste that had been applied had stayed put and burnt out in one spot without spreading or even creating a lot of heat.

  The result was fantastic. Each car, truck and SUV now had the word Cursed burnt and branded onto the hood and the sign on the building was almost even more dramatic looking.

  Being mindful of Paul’s warning, Justin looked up and down the street for any heavies and then moved quickly into position. He started taking his shots in a practiced and professional fashion that let the cops know that he knew what he could and couldn’t do. He stayed well back from the lot and used his lenes to get the close-up shots that he wanted of the remaining fires on the car hoods.

  With a few minutes he was done. His instincts told him that there was a lot more to this story for sure, but he wanted to see what was happening in the North end. Whatever it was, it had to be spectacular, and he didn’t want to miss it.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? Are you fucking kidding me?” Giorgio was in the back of a café and men’s club tucked away on Sheafe Street that was only for members of la Famigilia. He had come here with a few other men to try to get a handle on what had just happened to the bakery.

  The club was private and out of the way of prying eyes. Until they knew what they were dealing with he did not want to be just standing out on the street looking around without a clue like the rest of them. Then they would know that la Famigilia did not any control about what was happening, not one fucking bit, and now there was this news.

  “Jesus Christ” Giorgio got ready to throw his phone in anger at the brick wall of the club but caught himself just in time. That would be a stupid move. Like it or not he would need to answer to a lot of people very soon.

  Still frustrated, he lashed out and kicked over a chair forgetting that instead of wearing his normal boots and dress pants he was still in sweats and running shoes. The soft toed shoes gave his toes little protection as his foot connected with the chair back and likely broke his middle toe.

  “For fucks sake, fuck this fucking night already…fuck”. Giorgio limped over to the fridge behind the bar and grabbed the first beer he could find and downed it in two long pulls from the bottle.

  “Giorgio, what is it now?” An older man, seated at a nearby table asked the question with the weary voice of someone who was used to navigating through a crisis.

  “They’ve hit the car lot out in Cheslea. Cusanelli’s lot. They burnt every car out there and wrote Cursed Car Lot on the sign. For fuck’s sake. He was going to retire soon and leave it to his son too.” Giorgio held his head for a moment.

  “There were like fifty, sixty cars on that lot. They burnt em’ all he said. That’s gonna’ be like over two hundred grand in damage. Probably more…Jesus….”

  “Don’t worry about the cars.” The old man said shaking his head slightly. “That’s just money, insurance will cover that. What you need to worry about is reputation. Whoever’s doing this is making us look bad and it all started with you Giogio. All of it”.

  The big chef stood straight up and turned with his arms outstretched. His eyes were bloodshot and wild and his matted and flying off in all directions. “Jesus Christ already. It’s the old lady. It’s her fault. She’s the one with this curse bullshit. It’s her …….NOT ME”.

  He sagged back against the bar after his outburst; he had been running on fumes all night and he was hitting the end of his limits.

  The old man waited, he wanted to be sure that Giorgio was done. “You need to remember your priorities Giorgio. It’s to la Famigilia. La Famiglia è Tutto. Always and forever. You never forget this…eh?”

  He jabbed his finger at Giorgio. “You go home and clean up. No more booze. Get cleaned up, get some coffee, take some pills if you have to because you gotta’ go explain to the boss what you know about this mess. All that you know. Giorgio. All. Tell him everything.”

  Giorgio looked up, sullen and red eyed. He had nothing left to say. The old man was right. There was nothing left to say. He had to go to the very top and explain this mess except that he didn’t have any idea what was happening or how to stop it.