Chapter XIII: Interrogation

The surveillance room, like any ordinary surveillance room, was filled with monitors depicting various scenes of events going on. Three men were lazing in their seats, either blankly staring at the monitors or their phones, while one of them was sleeping. The smell of stale coffee drifted in the air as various snack wrappers were strewn across the floor.
It was obvious that this room hadn't been cleaned in a long time, the air smelled stale and no window was open.
In simple words, it was suffocating.
Arcangelo stood in the doorway, staring at the scene in front of him. Wondering if this is how things looked like on a daily basis: full of lackadaisical people.
Salvatore shuffled in beside him, an eyebrow raised at their lack of awareness before looking to the Boss, waiting for some instructions. Apparently, they weren't needed because the Mafia Boss grasped the door and slammed it shut, giving the three men a heart attack as they all jumped in their seats, while the one who was sleeping, fell off his chair in his fright.
"Open a window, would you," Arcangelo stated calmly as they all stared at him in panic. One of them jumping up and opening a window like told.
"Boss," The man, who had been staring at his phone, chuckled uneasily. "How can we help you, sir?"
"I need you to pull up the hospital feeds of the day I got shot."
"Of course, sir," He nodded as the two other men stood from their seats, giving Salvatore and Arcangelo a place to sit.
The two watched as the man typed away commands into the computer, pulling up various feeds of the same time and event from different angles.
"Here you are." He stated as he pushed himself away from the desk, allowing Arcangelo and Vincent to move closer as he turned up the volume, both of them wearing headphones and listening to the conversation of the day, forward to see how many people came in.
"Can I get a paper and pen?" Arcangelo asked as he counted the people that came and went.
Hastily one of them handed him a notebook with a pencil as Arcangelo rewound the footage, starting from when he woke after the procedure. They listened to the conversation as Salvatore stated the names of all the people while Arcangelo wrote them.
"15 people," He sighed. "And how many are on duty today?"
"No idea. We'll have to check with Marcello."
"Alright," Arcangelo nodded as he stood from his place, followed by Salv as they made their way out the door.
"We aren't done here," Salvatore informed the three men. "Major will come and talk to you three."
Arcangelo couldn't help but snort at the threat as they knew that Major would give them a piece of his mind--given that he is the head of security.
"Who is the first person on the list?" Salv asked, coming up beside him.
"Luca Ricci." Arcangelo read the name on the list. "Get him into the room."
When Luca was brought in, he seemed very confused and wondered why he was there. Then he was seated in a chair, and he wanted to ask if he had done something wrong. That's when the interrogation started. Arcangelo started off by offering him a cigarette, using the good cop bad cop method. He started chatting him up before finally coming to the crucial questions.
"You came into the hospital room when I was shot."
"Yes, sir,"
"What did you hear?"
"I'm sorry, sir?"
"What did you hear in that room?"
"Nothing. The doctor was telling you about the damage done when I had come in to retrieve some medications."
"And that's it?" Arcangelo questioned with a drag of his cigarette.
"Yes, sir," He nodded, finishing the cigarette he had been offered.
"Alright,"
"May I go, then?"
"Yes, yes. Go." Arcangelo nodded, allowing him to leave.
He needed the first one to tell everyone exactly what happened inside. This way, if any of his friends was called in for an interrogation, they'd all expect a few questioning and that would be it.
Initially, it had started off like this, the first few people were merely asked about what they had heard, a few threats were given and no positive response was received.
Ultimately, Arcangelo started to lose his patience, and that's when things got rough.
"Stop making your interrogations so bloody." Salvatore sighed as another bloodied and bruised body was being dragged out of the room.
"Then give me the traitor." Arcangelo retaliated as he wiped his bloodied knuckles.
"You know I can't do that. I don't know who it is."
"Thought so,"
Rubbing a hand over his forehead, Salv let out a grunt of irritation before offering a preposition.
"Let me deal with the next one." He offered. "Go have lunch, and I'll deal with this. How does that sound?"
Pondering his words, Arcangelo glanced down at his watch, recalling it to be a Wednesday and noted it to be 4 in the afternoon.
"Why did I do that?" He asked suddenly, realizing that he checked the time without actually having meant to. He knew the time, because he had seen how long the last interrogation lasted, and here he checked it again.
"What?"
"Nothing,"
"So what do you say?" His acting-second-in-command prompted, patiently waiting for either an affirmation or rejection.
"Yeah, I guess I'll go for lunch." Arcangelo nodded, seemingly realizing how hungry he felt. "Let me know if you come up with something."
"Will do, sir,"
With that said, Arcangelo pulled on his blazer before making his way out the front doors. Grabbing the keys to his BMW, he settled behind the wheel before driving off. As he drove, he pondered where he would go for lunch.
There was a nice new restaurant, and Lorenzo had suggested it, claiming that they had very nice deserts. But he wasn't in the mood for deserts. Then there was another one suggested by Romeo, a place which had good service, but that doesn't say much about the food. Marcelo suggested a little shawarma joint around the corner, maybe he could give that a try.
However, without consciously thinking, he had put his car into a parking spot. Blinking, he glanced at where he was, realizing he ended up at the Italian Diner.
Well, if he's here, might as well have some lunch.
Putting the car into parking, he took out the keys and made his way out.
Pushing open the doors, he was greeted by the sound of chatter surrounding him, soft music playing in the background with various Italian fragrances wafting through the air. The waiters and waitresses ran around the place with smiles and treys, handing people their orders or bills.
Catching sight of a waitress before him, Arcangelo cleared his throat, instantly grabbing her attention as she turned and regarded him with a surprised smile.
"Good afternoon, sir." She smiled. "How may I help you?"
"I would like a table for one," Arcangelo informed professionally as she nodded, leading the way to a roundtable right beside the window, overlooking the Italian streets.
Giving a curt nod, he settled down as the waitress handed him a menu, excusing herself with a nod as she went to attend to another table. Flipping open the menu, he looked over the assortments of food before deciding on what he wanted. Placing it away, he waited for her to return. As he waited, he found the day's paper and skimmed through the contents, finally arriving at an interesting headline.
"American stock going bankrupt..." Arcangelo mused silently as he read the article.
"I'm so sorry for the wait." She apologized as she returned, a little breathless and flustered. "There's a bit of a rush today."
"I'm aware." He agreed as he glanced at the people around them. "And it's quite alright."
"What would you like to order, sir?" She finally exhaled as she seemed worn out.
"I would like today's lunch special with limewater and a dish of breadsticks with your sour cream dip." Arcangelo rattled off as she nodded along, repeating the order as he nodded in confirmation. "Also, take a breath, Rosalie. You'll exhaust like this."
"I'm fine." She waved dismissively. "Besides, its rush hour, what can you expect. Anyways, I'll come with your order in 15 minutes."
With that, she left, allowing him to resume reading the paper. He had just gotten to an amusing part when Rosalie placed his food in front of him. Giving his thanks, he dug in and glanced at the paper, chuckling at the words and how much trouble his American counterparts were in.
Their stocks were plummeting.
Shaking his head, he placed away from the newspaper, focusing on his food. He was about to take a sip of the limewater when he heard dishes clatter and break behind him followed by the dragging of chairs. Turning around, he saw Rosalie and a livid customer standing soaked in a pile of broken dishes and food as another waitress stood beside them with one hand covering her mouth in shock while the other held an empty jug.
"Fottuta puttana (Fucking bitch)!" The man yelled at the top of his lungs as Rosalie shrunk back, trying to profusely apologize while pushing the other girl away. "Ora lo hai fatto! (Now you did it!"
Much to everyone's shock, he raised his fist, seemingly ready to hit Rosalie as she shrunk back. She waited for the pain to blossom but when it didn't and a whimper escaped the man before her, she slowly peeked open her eyes, seeing Arcangelo's rigid muscles facing her. He had the man's fist in his grasp, his entire face devoid of any emotions as his grip tightened.
"Baci tua madre con quella bocca (You kiss your mother with that mouth)? " Arcangelo asked in a bone chilling voice as the man swallowed thickly. "Se vuoi colpire qualcuno, prendi su qualcuno la tua dimensione, cagna. (If you want to hit someone, pick on someone your own size, bitch)."
"Your precious little girlfriend is in some deep shit now." The man growled in broken English as Arcangelo chuckled.
His laughter seemed to infuriate the man as he used his other hand and punched Arcangelo across the jaw, causing the majority of the people to shriek at the sound of the contact. The punch didn't seem to affect him much, because it only caused him to laugh louder as he released the man's fist.
Instead, Arcangelo laughter ended as abruptly as it had started, and he grabbed the man by the front of his shirt, slamming him against the wall, before kneeing him in the stomach, causing him to groan and double over in pain. Apparently, the Mafia Boss wasn't done, because he slammed his elbow to the back of his neck, sending him to the floor in a heap before rendering him breathless with a kick to his side. He looked like he was going to kick him again before Rosalie shrieked his name in fright, wanting him to stop the violence.
Instantly, his leg halted mid-air before Arcangelo straighten and composed himself. Grabbing the whimpering man, he pulled him up before twisting his arm behind his back painfully, resulting in a cry of agony.
"Apologise," Arcangelo growled in the man's ear as he whimpered against his hold.
"M-mi...dispiace." He apologized through his pain before Arcangelo marched him out the door and shoved him onto the gravel, causing the man to stumble before regaining his footing and running away as fast as he could.
Turning back towards Rosalie, he noticed the frightened and distressed expression and was instantly before her, cupping her face and shushing her.
"Shh,....you're okay." He assured as he tucked away a strand of her hair. "Are you hurt?"
Rosalie shook her head as she covered his palm with her own. "Not hurt, just cold."
Seemingly realizing this, Arcangelo glanced down and noticed that her white button up blouse had become see-through and exposed the purple bra she had on below. Removing his blazer he draped it over her, successfully covering her as she swallowed the lump in her throat.
"Go and grab your things. We're leaving." Arcangelo instructed as she sniffled and went to gather her belongings.
"You can't leave!" Her boss exclaimed, suddenly coming out of his stupor. "I don't give you permission!"
"It wasn't a request," Arcangelo growled dangerously as the man squeaked in fright. "And it wasn't a negotiation either."
Soon Rosalie returned with her bag as she shuffled closer to Arcangelo, tugging onto his sleeve as she just wanted to leave and never face such humiliation again.
"Rosalie, if you leave, I will fire you!" Her boss yelled as Arcangelo opened the door for her.
"Go ahead and fire her." He stated in response. "I'll get her a far better and well-paying job."
"Oh, yeah? Like what?" The boss taunted.
"A medical internship," Arcangelo stated smugly as her employer's smirk dropped off his face and his mouth fell open.
Leading her to his car, Arcangelo opened the passenger door for her, before closing it shut. About to move to his side, he got a call. Attending it, he pressed the phone to his ear.
"Tell me you got something." He spoke while rubbing a hand over his face, his anger abating from what had transpired inside.
"No, sorry," Salvatore sighed on the other line, sounding equally tired and worn out. "They all have no idea. I even dangled them on the edge of death and no one had any clue."
Without a response, Arcangelo ended the call, slamming his hand onto the hood of the car as he cursed under his breath, his anger returning at the lack of success from the past few months.
They were nowhere on finding Rosalie's attackers. They had no idea who tipped them off or who the mole was, and most of all; they weren't any closer to making Rosalie safer.
All of this pissed him off beyond compression.
Those Mafia failures topped with what had transpired in the Diner had him absolutely livid.
And it was only a matter of time until a man died at his hands.