The next day, Elisa woke up late. She decided to go for a walk, so she put on her pinstripe suit and ladies’ fedora and headed over to the local deli. As she entered, she overheard two men speaking in Finnish. One she recognized: Mauser Matiel. He was the founder of the Finnish mafia, and supposedly a very dangerous man. Then again, she was a dangerous woman. She looked at him quizzically, until he glanced over at her. “Can I help you?” he asked in a light Finnish accent. She shook her head ‘no’ as the two men brushed past her to leave. Tony, the owner of the deli, watched them cautiously as they went out the door.
“Buon giorno, signorina. Bad news, those two. They come in here every so often, looking for trouble. Couple of Finns, ‘out for a walk’.” Elisa nodded in agreement and ordered a sandwich for herself. That Matiel fellow…he was strange. There was a kind of quiet sophistication about him not normally seen in Finnish men. He wore a black pinstripe zoot suit and a black fedora with spectator shoes…obviously a hepcat. She pushed the thought from her head and backtracked towards Morelli’s for work. The hours that followed were long and uneventful. Somehow she couldn’t manage to stop thinking about Matiel. Even after seeing Sammy, her mind regressed to the thought of the strange Finn she had seen earlier that day.
He was a classy man, five foot nine and well shaped. Mauser Matiel was a charismatic man, often surrounded by women. However, rumor had it that he avoided getting involved with any of them despite his charm. He preferred to use the ’98 Mauser rifle, hence his nickname. When he was in public, however, he carried a concealed PPK in the breast pocket of his zoot jacket. Matiel had indeed formed the Finnish Mafia, but was not the Godfather. He had passed the title to a friend to avoid a hit and enjoy his solitude. He preferred to be alone, which was not possible if one was the supreme authority of the mob. He often traveled to the Northwest part of the country to pursue his fishing interests.
At approximately 7 o’clock, Elisa left in a black Model 99A Mercury to carry out her assignment. She arrived at Olut to find Matiel in a corner booth with his arm draped across the shoulder of an attractive Finnish woman. He looked at Elisa suspiciously and took a swig of his whiskey sour. She sat down at the bar nervously, somehow managing to keep an air of confidence. She ordered her martini and sipped at it. Adopting a Finnish accent, she spoke to the man next to her.
“Hello, sir. Have you heard about the next shipment of fresh eggs?” This was a code she had picked up earlier from a mole. She had asked him about the next meeting, and its whereabouts. Her good looks and charm made it easy to get information out of common drunks. He looked at her groggily and hiccupped.
“Yeah. Tuesday, at the shipyard.” So that was it. Their next meeting would be Thursday in the abandoned warehouse on 23rd street…perfect. She would tell Sammy and they could have twenty armed men there. Elisa hopped down from her barstool and moved to a table closer to Matiel. He intrigued her…in a strange way. The girl he was with was light haired and long legged—she was quite attractive. However, Finnish women had somewhat of an odd, square-jawed look to them that detracted from their facial features.
She covered her face with a menu and ordered the house dish. Matiel, she noticed, whispered something to his companion and got up to leave. “How odd,” she thought. “The main course has not arrived.” As he walked out the back door, she got up to follow him. The door led to a dark, damp alley shut off on one side by a chain-link fence. Matiel had disappeared. Suddenly, out of nowhere, she felt the cold barrel of a PPK pistol pressed up against the nape of her slender neck.
“What are you doing in my side of town, prinsessa? In my restaurant, in my bar, in my corner…you’re not where you belong. And we can’t have any little bird chirping to Il Padrino, can we?” Elisa shut her eyes and prayed as she heard the gun cock into position…when it was transformed from a harmless metal object into a cold killing machine. “However, I’m a reasonable man. I wouldn’t kill a young, beautiful lady such as yourself in cold blood.” He withdrew the gun and caressed her neck with his index finger. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to detain you. As a matter of personal and public safety.” She breathed a half-sigh of relief as she felt goose bumps rise on the back of her neck. This could turn out to her benefit, maybe. “Don’t worry, Miss Morelli. The Perhe will not know you are missing. And neither will your little Italian friends. I will not harm you unless need be.” With these somewhat reassuring words, darkness clouded her thoughts and sights as the thoughtful but dangerous man applied a sedative of some sort to her nose and mouth.
“Chloroform,” was her last thought before fainting into Matiel’s arms.
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