Amoroso

by S. W. Frank

  “Find Don Alfonzo –warn him –Armenian hit,” Grigori said with his final breath.

  Grigori had mustered the strength to cut off his finger. The significance of the act meant something important. Don Alfonzo would know exactly what Grigori meant. What heinous crime had the Cuvato or Tsiakrokis family committed that punishment included the murder of innocent people?

  The nurse reappeared with the physician and a robust security guard.

  The doctor advanced with the guard, who took hesitant steps towards the rather menacing patient.

  “Mr. Cuvato, leaving in your condition is not advisable!”

  Lorenzo stood. “I’m not asking for your advice, am I?”

  “Any complications that occur once you step outside of this hospital we are not responsible for. Please return to your bed.”

  “Try to keep me from properly burying my damn family –and crazy is what I’ll become if you stand in my way!”Lorenzo forcefully stated as he shoved past the physician and the security guard.

  He exited without further opposition, walked swiftly through the bright corridor with the plastic medicine carts, hand sanitizers and uniformed personnel. The stench of illness isn’t the company he needed. He required a hard fuck, a stiff drink and a cigarette to relieve some of the stress. He’d been out of commission too long, bullets sidelined him but physicians sought to medicate his active brain. He held his chest when the pain broke through and returned the questioning looks from the nurses with a ‘mind your fucking business’ glare as he waited for the elevator.

  The elevator doors opened, he stepped in, punching the lobby button with an open palm. The doors were closing when an off-duty nurse slid through with a smile of relief she accomplished the feat.

  He recognized the nurse, she worked the overnight, another needle pushing druggist.

  She exhaled, her smile diminishing when she noticed his scowl as they descended.

  “Breaking out, huh?” she asked.

  The ping answered. An Asian couple entered.

  The nurse smirked. “You’re foolish you know.”

  Lorenzo’s knuckles protruded as he held tightly to the plastic hospital bag with his soiled clothes.

  Another ping. The Asian couple exited. An elderly man with deep wrinkles on his cheeks and oversize tinted glasses slowly walked in and stood in front.

  “You need to clean the area in a few days with antiseptic, change the bandage. The staples will require removal by a physician.” The nurse offered.

  Lorenzo’s head moved. He examined the nurse from head to toe.  She was young, mid-twenties, cute with a goody-two shoes vibe, except he had peeped her tramp stamp when the rear hem of her uniform snagged on the edge of his bed one night as she bent to retrieve her pen.

  He liked her lips, they reminded him of Thalia.

  A moment, that’s all he needed of those lips to remind him of how happy he’d been before a killer took everything he loved away.

  “I need a nurse’s reassurance my private parts are functioning –and a ride, think you can assist me?”

  She blushed. She had seen the patient’s body parts when he’d been wheeled upstairs from the recovery room. The masculine bulges, carvings in ink and the cuts from nature that shaped his features belonged to a fine specimen and hard to miss.

  “I’ll be happy to give you a hand and a lift,” she answered.

  The old man coughed.

  A ping.

  The doors opened on the main floor.

  They exited together. 

   

  ***

   

  “Okay buona notte my angel,” Nico said as Semira snuggled on his chest and closed her eyes. Her mouth tickled his skin and he smiled before staring at the ceiling.

  Whoa, what a week of hell. No more parties for me, he had told Ari.

  Semira drooled.

  “Women are crazy,” he muttered to his daughter’s hair. “But not you. Ne, you are the sweetest.”

  Anna had a girl on his birthday and named her Annalisa. She was an adorable little cherub, too. A bit tiny, but that’s expected when born prematurely. Anna was released today, however the infant required further monitoring until the doctors determined she was healthy enough to go home. Therefore, after Anna was settled in at home, Ari went on with the boys to Connecticut.

   They were in flight, probably halfway there by now he estimated. Darren initially wanted to stay but Anna assured him, she was fine. She didn’t want to be the reason he missed finalizing his paperwork.

  Nico grinned. He liked Anna, and hoped she decided on a career. She didn’t have a clear set of goals at the moment.

  There are late bloomers in the world, nothing’s wrong with that he supposed. It’s just he knew what he wanted from the time he picked up a crayon.

  Nico yawned. Tomorrow, they were going to see his granddaughter, Annalisa, spend the day watching her sleep, and then he’d treat the girls to pizza. Semira loved the gourmet kind. Anna and Semira were easy to deal with unlike the boys.

  He chuckled.

  I’m Grandpapa. What a cool title.

  His eyes closed.

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Chapter 8

   

   

   

   

   

  Maria hung up. Her sister Carmen asked when she planned to visit. She did not have an answer. Bruno buried his son. The bodies of his daughter and her husband weren’t found in the wreckage or surrounding area. Therefore, the search continued. It’d been weeks and Bruno refused to give up hope. The authorities suggested the bodies might never be recovered; yet Bruno maintained faith.

  The DeMarco’s had coordinated daily searches. Bruno dedicated fleets to the effort, and they found nothing on the missing couple.

  Miracles are known to happen. Unfortunately, earlier in the morning Bruno received word that items had washed up on the beach in Capri.  He’d gone with his sons and granddaughters to view the items and hadn’t called since. When he did return, night had fallen and he was in a pensive mood. She didn’t want to broach the subject of Alexandros going to his father and upset him. Her husband was mourning. She could hear his devastation in the long sighs.

  Maria switched on the light before Bruno’s head touched the pillow. She did not want to enquire, but she had to know what they found. If Bianca was indeed dead, she needed to hear from his lips.

  “You did not call. Were there any new developments?”

  “Sí, she is dead.”

  That is all he said before turning on his side.

  “Oh Bruno –oh sweetheart I am so sorry.”

  “I have Alexandros. I have part of my daughter.”

  Maria frowned. She thought to ask whether he considered Nico’s parental rights, instead she switched off the lamp to let him sleep. Her husband’s grief spoke. It was not the appropriate time to remind him, the boy’s father would never give his consent. Nico wanted his son and Bruno could not simply keep him.  She’d given Nico her cell number. He called every day to check on his son. This is a secret she hid from her husband. When it came to the topic of Nico, Bruno was unreasonable. He despised the infant’s father, which she did not quite understand.

   

   

   

   

  ***

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  The car circled the plaza where a sleek building with shiny tinted windows rose above the others. The old architecture remained intact, modern touches to the building’s exterior and extra floors giving more height, is the subtle way to flaunt status.

  The surrounding area of Palazzo
Enterprises had armed security on foot and in cars. They were inconspicuous to the untrained observer. Anyone attempting to gain access to the lobby was certain to encounter the guards in plain clothes.

  He’d watched the building for days and had yet to see any sign of Alfonzo Diaz, let alone the elusive murderer Nico Serano. He suspected the CEO must have an entry underground and exited the same way, but he couldn’t figure out where.

  He’d searched for Alfonzo Diaz’ address. However, only the business offices in New York, Puerto Rico and Palermo were listed. Certainly, an enforcer’s address would not be accessible to the public. Getting to the men proved harder than he thought. The idea of disappointing his family sent him on another course.

  He drove away, toward the shopping centers where the upscale gallerias were. Improvisation meant focusing on a secondary target with connections to the family.

  The old structures were a dull background to the more vibrant images of revenge. He saw colorful reds on an orbital lens.

  Watching the world go round is what he’d done for years. People spun upside down in his life, pushed away with their happy smiles on his roller coaster ride and their joy died at his hands.

  After witnessing tragedy, putting on a mask to make others comfortable is what he did. His mom noticed and shared her dreams of revenge.

  She lost many on that day, a husband, father, aunt, friend and her cat when Nico Serano executed them and then burned their home to ashes.

  His mama lost wealth and worked nights to support them. He went to school, even there he dreamed of killing Nico Serano one day. His mother also believed in the cause.

  Kill…kill…kill the person who took away their life and make him suffer as they had for many years.

  They’d discussed their plans, and by righteous fate, the anonymous caller led them closer to an executioner. Except, the caller had no address fro Nico Serano. He wanted Nico Serano to suffer, and said. “Kill his daughter and then let him see Alfonzo, die slowly. Let him scream with helplessness as he watches and then put a bullet in his head!” The caller coldly stated. “Money, transport and aid I will give.”

  The helpful benefactor did provide names of those who participated in his family’s brutal murder; the Tsiakrokis’ and Cuvato family is where he began.

  He parked in the lot, walking with smiling shoppers on the elegant Via Libertá. The chic boutiques, bookstores and specialty shops boasted a stream of customers of diverse cultures and dress with shopping bags or cameras around their necks.

  In the society page of a recent magazine, he read a fashion blog, naming places where the mafia Donnas shopped. He only cared about meeting the lovely one in the photograph named Lucia.

  He walked around, peering in shop windows, noticing in several establishments a circular emblem with Addio Pizzo. The network of cross streets held many antique shops and craft stores for the hunters of unique items. He observed from the tinted shades the people entering and leaving the storefronts as he took a pleasant stroll under the sun.

  Then he stopped, by fortune he recognized the stylish Prima Donna Lucia entering the Torregrossa Store accompanied by a large bodyguard. He hastened to the door, following the taupe colored shawl and the flowing hair. The woman walked into Maison Chanel with her companion. This did not deter the pursuer from his prey; in fact he found the situation a thrilling challenge and fingered the thin case of syringes attached to his belt.

  He spotted Lucia perusing the aisles, leaning over glass encasements where the most expensive items were stored and he smiled. He considered entering and then revised his plan. There were cameras throughout the galleries.  He chose to wait, get something to eat and wait for an opportunity to arise before acting hastily.

  The opportunity arose two hours later when he spotted the guard rush toward the bathroom.  He followed, checking over his shoulder to see the pretty woman enter the boutique, oblivious to any danger, over-confident with her notorious title. When the guard disappeared inside a door with the word BAGNO, the predator entered and then went inside the adjacent stall in time to hear a loud fart and inhale a foul odor.

  Opportunity arose when the guard finished his business, stood and exposed his head. When the toilet flushed, the guard spotted the attacker, but he could not deflect the syringe filled with a lethal dose of a cardiac inducer. Standing on the edge of the bowl, the attacker depressed the needle into the guard’s jugular, and the patron flopped on the toilet. 

  The attacker then climbed over the partition, using the man’s thighs as a stool to step to the floor. In the cramped space he rummaged through the unconscious patron’s pockets, removing his personal belongings and then exited the stall. At the sink he shoved the items in his pockets. The syringe was returned to the holder beside other color coded needles. The unused green tops were potent tranquilizers.

  He turned and kicked something beneath the sink. When he checked it out, a grin formed.

  The wet floor sign was just what he needed and he carried it outside to place in front of the bathroom door.

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Chapter 9

   

   

   

   

  “Buongiorno Signora.”

  Lucia nodded at the casually attired male with blonde hair. His eyes were covered by dark tinted shades.  His breath had an onion smell.

  “Buongiorno, can I help you?” she asked when he lingered.

  “I am security for the galleria. Your driver asked that I escort you to your vehicle. There is an emergency and he must return you home.”

  Lucia looked around. “Cosa? An emergency?” She immediately thought of her baby in the care of her mama. She allowed the escort to help her with her bags, unaware he’d removed her cell from her purse and tossed it in a receptacle before they exited the doors.

  “Where is the driver?” Lucia asked when they reached the car.

  Her escort shrugged. “Perhaps he went to the bathroom again. I will check.”

  He held open the door, putting her bags in the trunk. Then he returned to find the woman searching through her purse. “My cell, aye, where is it?”

  With a false smile of solicitation he entered, reached in his pocket and said, “Please, use mine.”

  The smile disappeared when he brandished a tube of the liquid sedative and punctured her skin before she screamed. When she slumped over, the smile reappeared. She slept so beautifully he nearly forgot his mission. 

  Without further delay, he climbed over the seat and drove away.

  A WET FLOOR sign in the corridor of the swanky mall deterred the entry of those seeking relief. The odor of death would bring the police swarming in the morning, however they wouldn’t find identification on the victim of the apparent heart attack, only his money.

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Chapter 10

   

   

   

   

   

  “I’m telling you to rein her in Nico. The only reason she’s breathing is because I don’t think she’s malicious, but I’m not going to tolerate anymore of her shit!”

  “Like I said, Ari’s out of the business –for good. However, I’m vouching for my wife on the amount. Look at the data I sent, see it?”

  Alfonzo noticed the screen illuminate and a spreadsheet appear.
“How are you hijacking my laptop?”

  Nico sighed with boredom. “Easy, now pay attention to the highlighted yellows. Are you looking?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That’s what Ari removed and the date, see the greens?”

  “Seen.”

  “Look at the sources.”

  “I see.”

  “That’s what I returned. Every dime is clean. Now peep the reds.”

  Bright red lines appeared, colorful branches spread to various places on a three dimensional map. “You’re like a kid old man,” Alfonzo stated as the lines disappeared and then two starbursts appeared, one in Europe and the other near the Freedom Towers in New York.

  “I sure am.” Nico chuckled. “But, hey, that’s all I could trace. Whoever injected money into your wife’s account wanted it to look suspicious. I suspect you’re on notice of a financial stranglehold. “Nico snorted. “I’ll do more digging. The person might’ve slipped up somewhere and we’ll catch him.”

  “Or her.”

  “Him –her whatever.”

  Alfonzo heard Semira calling to her dad and he grinned. “I can’t picture you as the stay-at-home dad.”

  “Things change. Hey, get over here Mira and sit with papa for a sec.”

  An image popped up on the screen. Nico was in his painter’s shack, and Mira climbed into view. She had her dad around the neck now, swaying in front of the screen; her hair had bright colors everywhere.

  “Say buongiorno to Zio Alfonzo,” Nico said to the toddler.

  Alfonzo tsked at the paint on the child’s face. Sheesh, what were they doing, having a paintball fight? He hoped for Nico’s sake the stuff was washable. “Hola niña, are you having fun?”

  The girl’s smile radiated through the screen. She inherited her dad’s sharp nose that contrasted with her soft features. Nico and Ari were in her face. Somehow the combination worked and Alfonzo admitted Semira was a strikingly beautiful girl. She had her dad grinning with pride when she said, “Buongiorno Zio, where’s Angie?”