Chapter Text
If there was one thing Leland could say about New Orleans it was this. It was hell, hell on earth, and he fucking hated it here. That went for the entire state of Louisiana too. He had been transferred to Lucifer’s armpit nine weeks ago. They couldn't keep cops around here due to the swarming gangs of all backgrounds. Particularly the Italian Mafia who jumped south on the run from the soft spined Yankee law enforcement.
Not only was Leland sweating his ass off but he was a bit homesick to top it off. It was just until they filled their precinct back up then he could go home. Whenever that was. At least the good ol boys down at the station set him up with an apartment while he was stuck down here. This also gave time for things to cool off back home and let him ‘greive’ his wife's and in law's tragic deaths.
At least with this one he kept his house just needed the blood cleaned off the walls. It was nice having her gone anyway. She was his least favorite. Not even sure why he married her in the first place, oh well water under the bridge.
He came into work with a cigarette between his lips at the very least they had his brand down here. If they didn't he would've been fit to be tied. Letting out a plume of smoke he tensed as he saw all eyes were on him. Leland looked behind him to be sure and yep everyone was in fact looking at him. Perfect.
“Hey now I know I'm real handsome but ya don't gotta stare.” Coyle chuckled and a few of his co workers did with him
“Coyle! My office!” The chief, a bloated old bastard, called out.
Leland walked into the office and sat in the office chair that was probably about as old as he was. Sitting up straight he resisted the urge to bounce his knee. A nervous habit that they about beat out of him in the Marines. Well at least they did a better job at it than his Pa did.
The chief sat back and rested his hands over his distended pot belly. “Well I'm sure ya wanna know why yer here son. Don't ya?”
“Yessir.” Leland replied teeth grit. He hated being called son. Especially by pompous fat cocksuckers.
“Well we got a very important job for you Sargent. Since you're technically new blood down here it means the Itals don't know you and that's a good thing. “ The ugly pug nosed man coughed before continuing “Scuse me…and you got the coloring for the most part so we were thinkin of putting you undercover.”
“Undercover? Fer how long?” Leland asked, ignoring the comment about his coloring. Far as he knew not a drop of Italian blood was in him and he preferred it that way.
“As long as we need you to. We'll have a meetup for information at random times to keep our people safe and not to raise suspicion on ya.” The chief stated, tossing him a file.
Coyle stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray on the desk. Reading the file he was given a new last name Cardone , kept his first name oddly enough. Some story about how his mama wasn't Italian but his daddy was and she ran off with him to Oklahoma. Daddy evidently was Antonio Cardone had a bunch of kids but died in a big fire twenty years ago. There was a new driver's license with his new name tucked in along with a rosary.
“We changed ya birthday too, congratulations ,yer two years younger.” The chief let out a raspy laugh
Leland chuckled dryly in response.
The next few days whipped past him, new clothes, new name, new life story. He lived, breathed and ate the local Mafia syndicate. Don Salvatore Barbi was the head of it all in his plantation mansion two hours outside the city. It was gonna take gumption and a whole lot of lies to get in there but he would for justice. He had lied his way out of three families; he could lie his way into one just fine.
Once he had squeezed himself into the lower ranks Leland did what he could to not only gather information but claw upward. He would admit the freedom to bash heads had him feeling like hell on wheels. While his heart belonged to Lady Justice she did work in mysterious ways and Leland had always had a bit of a mean streak to him. One that twisted his insides and sent electricity up his spine when he had someone at his mercy.
It took weeks but he had finally been invited to eat supper with the boss. A burlap sack was tossed over his head Leland couldn't help but smile underneath. God he was a good fucking cop. The car stopped and he fixed his face as the bag was taken off. The two greased up suits stood guard at the front doors seeing Leland and his escorts walk up they opened the house up and let them in.
Salvatore was probably staring down his late sixties. Hooked nose ,brown eyes too close together, pencil mustache, greying black hair split down the middle with enough pomade to choke on. He reeked of the stuff and some expensive imported cologne.
His wife could have been his daughter with how young she was. Real smoke show, pouty red lips, hair in pin curls , curves in all the right places. Angelina was her name. She took extra care to linger when touching Leland’s shoulder, not that he minded.
Hiding in the stairwell was another woman or young girl? Around the same age as Angelina, Leland couldn't help but stare but for entirely different reasons. Her head was huge with limp dishwater blonde hair in two braided pig tails. She had watery blue eyes that drooped at the corners like sad baby dolls. They bulged forward in their sockets like one that had been squeezed too tight. A few of her front teeth poked out crooked from her top lip. Nose looked like it had been broken a couple times.
She stood staring at Leland boring holes into him. Playing with the hem of her purple house dress acting like he couldn't clearly see her. Poor thing ,being a ugly woman was a damn shame in this world. Salvatore must have noticed the one sided staring contest as he straightened his posture with a sour look.
“FRANCESCA! Quit gawking at our guest, have your manners melted out ya ear girl?” He snapped
The girl jumped and ran up the stairs like a bat outta hell.
Salvatore said something in Italian possibly cuss words Leland couldn't tell you. He then looked up with a smarmy smile and took Leland's hand in his
“Don't mind my daughter. Girl's always been a problem but relatively harmless.” The don said softly before gesturing for Leland to sit.
They all sat and smoked cigars before dinner. Conversation was kept light but Leland could still feel those eyes on him. Specifically on the back of his neck tentatively he turned around a couple times but no one was there. Luckily Salvatore didn't seem to notice.
Dinner was announced and they sat at a large table Salvatore at the head with Angelina at his side. Leland was towards the very end that girl sat to the side of him. Leland clasped his hands together as Salvatore said grace. Closing his eyes Coyle nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt something brush against his leg under the table.
Opening his eyes he pulled his leg back so as to not lift his head up. What the hell was that? The officer scrunched his nose and lifted his head up once grace concluded. It didn't happen again so he shrugged it off. He drank the dinner wine that was way too fucking sweet and ate the pasta in front of him no complaints. Hell they could have served him grey slop and he would have ate it. He learned a long time ago that pickiness was something he couldn't afford.
Leland jolted as his leg was brushed against again. Looking down he saw a Mary Jane shoe rubbing against his pant leg. Trailing up he saw Francesca sipping her wine looking to the side. When she turned her attention to the officer she licked the wind from her lips and smiled. Leland swallowed hard and smiled back as to not cause a scene.
Dinner dragged on forever and Coyle cursed internally as the cook brought out dessert. Francesca had scooted closer to him at some point and placed her hand on his thigh under the table. Leland pulled it away and the girl pouted like a toddler but did leave him be while he finished the cake in front of him.
The man who drove Leland over suddenly doubled over and threw up all over the table. He then fell to the floor and began to seize turning purple. Unphased Salvatore stood and snapped for the table to be cleaned and the body taken. Leland wasn't all that surprised although he didn't appreciate the smell.
“Looks like our driver for the new blood has …fallen ill….such a shame.” He cleared his throat ”Luckily we have many rooms so you will not be out in the cold. Boys show the new bloods upstairs while we clean up the mess.”
Just like that Leland was hauled to a guest room. The officer sat on the quilted duvet and rubbed his face. He could still feel her eyes tearing into him. It'll all be fine. That's what he told himself as he pulled his
jacket off and lit a cigarette.
It'll all be fine.