While Fort Dix’s classification topped out at medium security, such was the state of the inmate population at federal facilities that men who would otherwise have deserved maximum-security status had been relegated to installations like Fort Dix. Maybe the authorities hoped that the prison’s being on a military base would keep the inmates in line. That was wishful thinking, she believed.
She and Puller cleared security together, reluctantly giving up their weapons. Then they were led to the visitors room.
“He won’t give things up easily,” noted Pine as they took their seats.
“Never assumed otherwise. The reverse, actually. He’s apparently got a brain, at least my sources say. He’ll want his pound of flesh for cooperating.”
“What else can you tell me about him?”
“He’s a bad guy through and through. Been in trouble since he was a teenager. Petty stuff to start, and then he rapidly graduated to more serious crimes. He’s in here after being busted for heading up a burglary ring that was targeting senior citizens. One of them was nearly beaten to death when he showed up at his own house unexpectedly. Teddy’s got a good lawyer, but he’ll still be in here for another eight years at least.”
“Does he have a relationship with Tony?”
“From what we’ve found, Teddy would never qualify as father of the year. He wasn’t around much. His mother did what she could with Tony before she called it quits and got the hell out of Dodge, but he nonetheless seems to have followed in his father’s footsteps.”
“Crime runs in the family. Teddy’s uncle was a mobster.”
“Right, the Bruno Vincenzo you mentioned before.”
Pine nodded. “And now here comes the mobster’s nephew.”
Two guards escorted Teddy Vincenzo to a seat at the table across from them.
He was about five nine, his frame hard and wiry. Corded muscles lined his forearms. He carried himself with as much confidence as anyone in leg irons could. At over fifty, he had hair that was more gray than black, and coarse in texture.
From his expression Pine could read the man clearly. He was curious but guarded. He was looking for an advantage. For anything to get him out of here at the earliest possible moment so he could get on with his criminal career.
“They said FBI and CID,” began Vincenzo, and then he stopped right there, sat back and eyed them. “To what do I owe a visit from so many alphabet letters?”
He had selected his opening move with a pawn, thought Pine. Nothing too dramatic. He was here for info, too.
Puller said, “We’re interested in your son, Tony.”
Vincenzo said nothing to this, but he also didn’t seem surprised by the statement. He looked at Pine. “And you?”
“I’m actually interested in your father, Ito.”
The inmate showed a glimmer of surprise at this request. He folded his arms over his chest. “Why?”
“I’d like to talk to him.”
“Same question.”
“He’s a person of interest in a case I’m looking into.”
“You sure you ain’t after the wrong Vincenzo brother?”
“Bruno’s dead.”
“That’s right. He took a shiv in prison for being a snitch.” He looked over his shoulder, making his point. “Is that what you want for my future?”
“Are there any other Vincenzo brothers besides Ito and Bruno?” asked Pine. “Because I couldn’t find any.”
“No, that’s it. Big Italian Catholic family, but the rest were girls. What case?”
“A kidnapping that Ito was involved in.”
“Bullshit. My old man ran an ice cream shop here in Trenton, about a half mile from our house on the strip where they had all the mom-and-pop shops. It was called Vinnie’s Creamery.”
“ ‘Vinnie’ as in . . . ?” said Pine.
“Just shortened from Vincenzo. What, you think Ito’s Creamery has a nice ring to it?”
“Okay.”
He smiled. “My old man was as pure as the driven snow. Only sold vanilla.” Vincenzo showed white teeth as he smiled at his little joke. “Sound like a kidnapper to you?”
“Circumstances can change people,” interjected Puller.
“What, you mean like Tony?”
“Like a lot of people. But, yeah, like Tony.”
“You’re Army, he’s not.”
“He works here at Fort Dix. That makes it my problem.”
“Tony’s a good boy. It’s probably a misunderstanding.” He looked dead eyed at them as he said this obvious falsehood.
“You have any idea where he might be?”
“I’m in here, he’s out there.”
“You’re saying he’s never come to visit you even though he works here?”
“I don’t remember saying anything like that.”
“How’d you come to inherit Ito’s house?” asked Pine.
Vincenzo’s gaze swiveled back to her. He seemed to enjoy the back-and-forth between the two federal officers. “I was the oldest. And my siblings couldn’t have cared less about it.”
“What about your mother?” said Pine.
“What about her?” said Vincenzo sharply.
“She’s not doing very well.”
He shrugged. “My sisters put her in a place. I wasn’t in a position to have a vote. I was locked in my own dump.”
“I’ve been to see her.”
“So, she’s really not doing good?”
“She has dementia.”
“Lot of that going around, I hear. Got some of that in here, older guys. They talk funny.”
“Your siblings live around here?” asked Puller.
“Nowhere near. I don’t think Jersey agreed with them. They got out quick as they could. Me, I like it just fine, only not so much in this place.”
Pine had a sudden thought. “Did your dad ever use the nursery rhyme ‘eeny, meany, miney, moe’ with you and your siblings while you were growing up?”
Vincenzo grinned. “How the hell did you know that?”
“So he did?”
“Yeah, with six kids he used it to pick one of us.”
Pine licked her lips and tried to prevent her nerves from running away from her. “Pick you for what? To . . . reward?”
Vincenzo shrugged. “Sometimes. But other times to punish. When one of us did something wrong and the others wouldn’t rat him or her out.”
Pine sat back, disappointed and trying hard not to show it. Ito Vincenzo had used that nursery rhyme in deciding whether to take Pine or Mercy that night. She wanted to know if being picked in that manner was a good or bad thing. Vincenzo’s response had obviously not helped.
Puller glanced at her briefly and said, “Back to the house. Tony’s living there.”
“Okay.”
“You knew that?” asked Puller.
“I know it now.”
“When’s the last time you heard from your dad?” asked Pine.
Vincenzo took a moment to scratch his cheek and then rub his nose, which gave him an opportunity to think things through, Pine knew.
“I don’t know. What’s in it for me?”
Finally, we’re getting somewhere, she thought.
Puller sat forward, taking charge. “Let’s cut to the chase, Teddy. You help us, then you help yourself.”
Vincenzo sat forward now too, all business. “How much? And it has to be in writing. To my lawyer. I’m taking no chances with you feds screwing me over.”
“The time you got left here? We can make eight years six.”
“And you can also make eight years four. I’m not getting any younger.”
“Five. But it depends on what you can tell us. Bullshit gets you zip. Deal goes off the table and does not come back.”
Pine could tell by the declarative way Puller said this that these negotiation parameters had been preapproved in his chain of command.
“Oh, tough guy, are we? I’m shitting my pants right now.” Vincenzo said this with a smile that again c
ame nowhere close to his eyes.
“I’m waiting,” said Puller.
“What do you want to know?”
“Where is Tony? And where is Ito?”
Vincenzo glanced at Pine. “Why the hell do you give a shit about my old man?”
“Sometime in 1989, he was gone from home. For several months, maybe? Spring, summer? Ring a bell?”
“That’s a long time ago, lady. I get hung up on stuff from last week.”
“And three years off your time here is a damn good reason to try to remember.”
Vincenzo nodded and his manner turned less flippant and more focused. “Okay, look, I want to help, but I’ll need to give it some thought.”
“Only think in facts. I know enough that the bullshit Chief Puller mentioned applies fully to me as well.”
“Okay, your point is clearly made, lady. I’m not looking to extend my stay here any longer than I have to.”
“He talk to you about Bruno?” she asked.
“Sometimes; they were brothers. He was my uncle.”
“What did he say? I’m talking about what happened to Bruno, when he went to prison the last time.”
“Well, one thing my old man told me stuck with me. He said his brother made a deal that never came through. Cost him his life.” He glanced sharply at Puller. “Which is the position I might find myself in. Snitches don’t have long life expectancies in prison. You walk from this, I’m dead.”
“We can throw in solitary if that’ll make you feel better,” said Puller.
“Did Ito say he was going to do something because of what happened to his brother?” asked Pine.
Vincenzo refocused on her, his expression calming. “Nothing specific that I can remember. He was pissed, that I know.”
“Your father was clean. Not even a traffic ticket. Bruno was mob. Why would he care?”
“It was his own flesh and blood. That means something or used to. Yeah, my old man knew what Bruno was. But Bruno went to prison and he died when he shouldn’t have. Somebody had to pay for that.”
“Ito told you that? Is that what you’re saying?” asked Pine.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying. He didn’t talk much about Bruno, so what he did say was memorable, at least to me.”
“And then your dad disappeared, we understand. Know anything about that?”
“Nope. I was actually a resident of another fine institution like this one at the time.”
He looked at Puller now. “So what the hell has Tony done?”
“Thought you’d know all about it.”
“I would never encourage my son to break the law, and I’m sure he didn’t.”
“Are we expected to laugh?” said Puller.
Teddy shrugged. “Look, I’m an asshole, sure, but selling out my own kid? Come on.”
“Under no circumstances?” said Puller.
“You make the five years three, in my own cell, and I get private workout privileges and no probation. I’m clean and free when I walk out of here, no checking in with nobody. No peeing in a cup for the next five years. Call it a family discount.”
Pine looked at Puller, who nodded curtly.
Vincenzo hunched forward and dropped his voice. “Okay, look, Tony is not complicated. He’s a one-trick pony with not an original thought in his head. He does his little pill operation and he sells his shit and collects his share and he drinks his beer and bangs his women. But the situation he’s in now is . . . complicated. He’s way in over his head.”
“We’re listening.”
“I think he’s got himself involved with some people he shouldn’t be. And at some point they’re going to figure out he’s a liability and not an asset.”
“How do you know all this?” asked Pine.
“He came by to see me a while back. He was worried. Stuff he mentioned, didn’t add up to me. I told him to watch his back and look for an exit before it was too late.”
The man, Pine thought, looked deadly serious about that.
Puller said, “Okay. What exactly did he tell you?”
At that moment the door opened, and three guards and two suits entered the room.
“Interview is over,” said one of the suits.
Puller barked, “It was fully authorized, and we’re not done yet.”
“You’re done now,” said the other suit.
The guards grabbed a startled Vincenzo and started to pull him from the room.
“Hey, hey!” The inmate roared as he struggled futilely against them. He looked bug-eyed at Puller and screamed, “You screwed me over! You son of a—”
And then the door slammed shut and Teddy Vincenzo was gone.
CHAPTER
8
THAT WAS IT?” said Carol Blum when Pine returned to the hotel and reported what had happened at the prison.
“John made inquiries and ran into a stone wall. He’ll keep at it, but I don’t know what the result will be.”
“But I don’t understand. Why would anyone care that you were talking to Teddy Vincenzo?”
“Maybe the people his son was involved with do. Teddy seemed to think his son was way out of his league.”
“And these people can influence the goings-on at a prison? I mean, how would they have even known you were there?”
Pine looked at her. “Apparently they have connections, at a pretty high level.”
“Well, that’s a scary thought.”
“And it also means we don’t have a way to get a lead on Ito or Tony. So we’re back at square one.”
Pine slumped down in a chair and looked out the window at the backs of buildings perched on the rear of the hotel property.
One tiny step forward, four jumps back.
“Did Teddy tell you anything that was helpful before the interview was stopped?”
“He did confirm that his father was pissed about what happened to Bruno.”
“Did Teddy know his father was even in Georgia back at that time?”
“He would have been an adult by then, so he might not have been living at home. He started getting in trouble with the law even before then. But even so, I would imagine he would know if his father was missing, particularly for an extended period. But in any case, he said he didn’t remember, and would have to think about it. Now I guess we won’t get the opportunity to ask him again.”
“Not unless Puller can work some magic.”
“He didn’t sound hopeful from the last email he sent.” She grew silent and then said, “Vinnie’s Creamery.”
“What?”
“Ito had an ice cream shop in Trenton named that. He said it was only a half mile from their house. I wonder if it’s still there?”
“If it is, wouldn’t Teddy have mentioned it?”
“I didn’t ask him. And they don’t deliver ice cream where Teddy is.”
As it turned out, Vinnie’s Creamery was no longer there. The entire area had been razed and an apartment building and other businesses had been put up in place of the old shops that had lined both sides of the street. Pine and Blum asked around and found Darren Castor, a middle-aged man who had worked at Vinnie’s and was now head of maintenance at the apartment building.
Castor was about to take his coffee break, and Pine bought him a cup at a shop around the corner from the apartment building. Castor was in his fifties, had a string bean frame, a thick crown of gray hair, and weathered features. He sipped his coffee as he reminisced.
He grinned. “Ito Vincenzo. Haven’t heard that name in a long time.”
“You liked working with him?”
“Oh, yeah. It was fun. Happy customers. Who doesn’t like ice cream? In my job now all I get are complaints.”
“I guess so.”
“We sold gelato, too, of course. I mean, he was Italian, after all. And desserts and bakery goods. Ito made them himself. He was really good. The business did well.”
“Yeah, I understand he was a good cook.” Pine took out a picture of Ito that she had gotte
n while in Georgia. “And just to confirm we’re talking about the same person.”
Castor looked at the photo and nodded. “That’s Ito, all right.”
“Did you know his son, Teddy?” asked Blum.
“Bad news. He’s been in and out of prison. Ito couldn’t do anything with him. Kept giving him second chances, and when his back was turned, Teddy would put his hand in the till and the money would disappear. Ito never learned with that piece of trash.”
“When was the last time you saw Ito?” asked Pine.
“Hell, I don’t know. It was a long time ago.”
“Just think about it for a bit. Work it through in your head. Tie it to major events in your life, that will help.”
“Well, I started working for him when I was eighteen. I remember that because I was just out of high school and answered an ad Ito put in the paper. So that was back in 1985. I was there full-time through . . . okay, yeah, I started at the auto body shop in, I think . . . 2001.”
“So you worked for him for over fifteen years?” said Blum.
“I know, ice cream, right? But it went by fast. He taught me a lot. Learned about dealing with people, which has come in handy down the road. Heck, I became his partner in a way. He treated me well. Never got rich, but I got by and it was enjoyable work. We had a lot of regular customers. It was a popular place, packed on Fridays and the weekends. All word of mouth. His stuff was just that good.”
“Then I understand that Ito just disappeared one day?” asked Pine.
Castor nodded, looking sad. “Yeah, that’s right. It’s the only reason I changed jobs. Strangest thing. One day he was there, the next—poof—the guy was gone. His wife, Evie, tried to keep the business going. She could cook, too, especially her baked goods. I helped out as much as I could, but I needed a steady paycheck. I had a family then. Competition started coming in and people stopped eating as many sweets and the business just kept going down. Evie ended up selling it.”
“Any idea what happened to him?”
“Nobody knows. Least that I heard of. They looked for him and all. The police, I mean. But as far as I know, no one ever saw hide nor hair of him again.”
“So before he went missing did you notice anything unusual? Was he troubled or anything? Did he get a letter or a phone call that upset him?”
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