From Dusk Till Dawn

Chapter 11: Liar, Liar, Your World is on Fire- Joseph's Pov

"Why'd you ditch work so early in the day Joseph? May I call you Joseph?" It sounds more like a statement then a question. I nod silently.

"We're not here because of your work trouble Joseph." Detective McCoy pulls out a cigarette out of his trench coat and lights it. He puffs the air towards me causing me to cough. I quickly regain myself.

"Then why are you here?" I question him curiously. He stares at me for a few seconds before speaking. "You and your family were born in Italy. Am I wrong?"

My heart beat starts to quicken.

"No, I mean yes you're correct sir." I tend to try to keep being an Italian immigrant quiet. Not too many people are fond of us. Especially since my nonna and nonno told us all of the news in Turin. 

From what I understand, the two detectives already knew where I originated from when I stepped foot in the office so why ask me for confirmation?

"I suppose you've heard about Germany and Italy becoming allies. Rumor has it that Hitler and Mussolini are as close as a tied knot now." He explains.

"They've been allies since May I believe." I tell them. I'm hesitant at what I say could get me in trouble. But what do I have to fear since I've done nothing wrong?

"So you are aware what's going on in Italy?" Detective MCcoy blows out smoke from his mouth. "I have but the same knowledge of the public. My grandparents live in Turin and have occasionally been writing to my family about what's going on." Detective MCcoy glances up at Detective Buckley who hasn't said a single word until now. 

"Germany is one of our biggest enemies, along with Japan. Has anything to your knowledge happened in Italy recently? Perhaps some invasions or bombings?" Detective Buckley walks up to the side of me. It's like he's testing me. Testing my knowledge. I feel sweat trinkle on my brow as the two fbi officers stare into me.

"My grandparents wrote to me about a bombing attack on Turin by the British last year. They ruined their home, their crops, all their hard work." I was stunned, furious at the British for carelessly leaving my family in that state. Mussolini isn't better I suppose but it still makes me heated to think about their beautifully destroyed farm.

"Keep your cool, kid." Detective MCcoy says in a low, raspy voice. "Let's get back to the real reason why we 've paid you a visit. Shall we?" Letting the anger fizzle I nod agreeing.

"Joseph, we have been watching you, and your family for quite a while now." My anxiety returns. Not that it ever left. "Why have you been spying on my family?" I cross my arms leaning back into the wooden, creaky chair.

"It's quite interesting that you should use the word spy. In fact the reason we've been watching your family is because you've got yourself a whistleblower." Puzzled at the unknown vocabulary word, I ask, "Whistleblower?" Detective McCoy explains what it means.

"A whistleblower is a person who informs on a person or organization engaged in any sort of illicit activity." What have we done that's illegal? Nothing right? Instead of just thinking about the question, I ask it.

"Your father has been seen using counterfeit money. That's illegal Mr. Capurso." Detective Buckley informs me. "Yes, I'm aware that it is but I think you're accusing the wrong man detectives. My father has never used counterfeit money in his life. I would know." I straighten myself up in my chair. "You would know, wouldn't you boy?" Detective McCoy leans forward.

"Where the hell would he even get this money from even if he had some?" I question still not believing the detectives. "My guess is the Mafia." He states proudly. My heart drops just by the mention of the Mafia. "He's not in the mafia." I run a hand through my curly hair. "That's where you're wrong young man. How old are you fifteen?" He assumes.