The Box

by Robert Swetz

  Vincent got the feeling there was a bit of animosity between Michael and his sister. He was guessing that there were times when Samuel had to keep them both in line.

  From his waistband, Vince pulled out a gun. A bright silver gun with pearl handgrips. Samuel’s gun. He raised it and shot Michael in the head. Nobody would hear Michael laughing anymore. Nobody would have any trouble with him anymore. If everything went right, nobody would ever see him anymore.

  He watched as two of his men untied Michael’s body from the chair. They picked him up and carried him over to the box where they dumped him in. Vince walked over and looked in it. Michael and his two friends, Josh and Pete, were now the first contents of the box. The men put the lid on the box and temporarily put four screws into the lid to hold it in place and keep the smell down. They weren’t done with the box yet. It had been built big for a reason.

  Chapter 18

  “Isabel,” Samuel said. “Have you seen Michael?”

  “Michael? No. Not since dinner last night. Have you tried calling him?”

  “Yeah, but it went straight to voicemail.”

  “He’s probably with that woman again!” Isabel said somewhat angrily.

  “Knowing Michael,” Samuel replied, “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

  He walked back to his office. He had enough to worry about knowing that not only did Gerald Giordano know he had ordered the hit against his father, but damn Giordano and Vincent Bianchi were wandering around somewhere out there in New York City, and nobody had a clue where they were. He didn’t need his son going off somewhere and not focusing on the problem at hand.

  He got the feeling that Michael didn’t consider the problem to be as dangerous as it was. And now running off with his girlfriend somewhere? This wasn’t the time for things like that. For the thousandth time he wondered why Michael couldn’t have been his sister, and his sister couldn’t have been him. But Michael was not only his son, but his legitimate heir. Unfortunately, Iris was the illegitimate one. Yet time and time again, he trusted Iris more than Michael. Why couldn’t they have been switched?

  --- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

  It was ten o’clock in the morning and Gerald was once again in Vincent’s suite, sitting with Vince, Fran, and Brian at the small kitchen table. The night before, Vince had gone to Gerald’s room to fill him in on what he had learned. But now it was time to find out if there was a chance of getting Fran’s old driver’s license back.

  “Ready?” Vince asked his son.

  “Dad, this is just a phone call. Nothing to it.”

  Vince nodded and punched some buttons on the stolen cellphone that was sitting on the table. As soon as it started ringing, he pushed it over in front of Brian. Brian heard a strange woman answer the call. As his father had told him he might have to do, he asked for Father Joseph. It took a minute, but the priest was finally on the line.

  “Father Joseph,” the priest answered.

  “Father. This is David. Have you heard from the police?”

  “David! Yes, the police seem to be very anxious to talk to you.”

  “Do they have that driver’s license?”

  “They didn’t say. Just that they wanted to know as soon as you showed up.”

  “I’m not coming without that license. Call them. Find out if they have it. I’ll call again in half an hour.”

  Vince pushed the button and ended the call. Thirty minutes later, they started again.

  “Father Joseph,” the call was finally answered.

  “This is David again,” Brian said. “Do they have the license?”

  “Yes, they do.”

  “I thought they might,” Brian replied.

  “They’re quite anxious to talk to you.”

  “Two o’clock,” Brian told him. “Tell them I’ll be at the church about two-o’clock. And if they don’t’ have that license, then they won’t find out anything.” He nodded at his father.

  Father Joseph tried to say something else and realized that David had already ended the call. He hated being a go-between between David and the police, but he didn’t seem to have much of a choice. Once again, he called Detective Crosby. This time to let him know that David would be there at two o’clock. Detective Crosby, or someone with him, seemed to be angry they had to wait so long. Father Joseph couldn’t do anything about that.

  --- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

  Thirty minutes after they found out what time the boy was going to meet with them, Special Agent Rockford got a phone call.

  “One of the phone traces you asked for turned up something interesting, but it may be nothing. Sargetti tried to call someone in New York, but he didn’t get an answer. The number went straight to voicemail. The number is one we can’t match a name to.”

  “Okay,” Rockford replied. “It doesn’t sound like much, but you never know. Keep me posted.”

  It wasn’t until they were all coming back from lunch that he got another call from the same person. “We show that Sargetti has tried two more times now to reach that same number, still with no answer. We’re not showing that the number he’s trying to reach is active though. The last time it pinged a tower was last night sometime.”

  “Okay, how about Casper?”

  “She only called her family last night after you arrived. Nothing else.”

  “Thanks,” Rockford replied before he hung up. Was Sargetti trying to reach someone to tell them what they were doing? He had no proof, but right now, Sargetti was his main suspect. But again, he had no proof at all.

  It was time now to turn his thoughts back to the meeting they were about to have with the boy. Who was he? How did he find out what he did? If Detective Crosby worked the kid right, he might make one hell of an informer, which he guessed the kid already was. He just wanted certain things in return. He wondered how forthcoming a kid like that might be if he was offered money.

  At one-thirty in the afternoon they arrived at the church where Father Joseph let them in. None of them even glanced at the car parked a short distance away from the church. An unmarked car that was there for the sole purpose of following the kid to find out where he lived…or at least where he went.

  They were ready. All they needed now, was the kid.

  --- §§§§§§§§§§ ---

  Gerald laughed and hung up the phone. “The police and the FBI are there already,” he told Vince, Fran, and Brian. But we also spotted an unmarked car parked near the church too. How much you want to bet it’s there to follow Brian when he comes out?

  “That’s not good!” Fran said, her voice full of concern.

  “Mom,” Brian said. “I can lose them. No problem. Trust me.”

  “Hopefully, you won’t have to, son,” Vince told him. “We’ll see how it goes.”

  Brian shook his head. “If I have to, I can lose them.”

  Vince nodded. “Okay. Are you ready?”

  “Dad, I’ve been ready. Let’s get going. We’re going to be late.”

  “Purposely, son. Purposely.” Vince led his family down through the hotel and out to the car waiting just outside.

  A little while later, Brian walked the same few blocks to the church. He noticed the car parked at the curb, but he acted like he wasn’t paying any attention to it. He went to the side door and knocked. This time the door was answered almost immediately – by Father Joseph. He didn’t see any sign of the nun. He did see the same four people he had talked to before. They were all in the dining room waiting for him. “Got my license?” he asked.

  “We have it,” Rockford told him.

  “Where?”

  “I have it,” Rockford replied.

  “Are you going to at least show it to me?”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “Then goodbye.” Brian immediately turned toward the door and started to leave.

  “Kid!” Rockford said quickly. “I’ve got it. Have a seat.”

  “Let me see it.”

  Rockford pulled it from his pocket and held
it up. Brian went over for a closer look. Francesca Bianchi. It was the same license he had seen before. He spent a brief moment studying how his mother had looked ten years ago – like a different woman. He reached for it, but Rockford held it up away from him.

  “Not till we get some answers.”

  Brian shrugged. “What do you want to know?”

  Rockford gestured toward one of the tables. “Have a seat.”

  Brian sat and noticed that only the one cop took a seat across from him, not the one who had sat across from him before. “Let me guess,” Brian said. “You’re FBI, not the police.”

  “Bingo,” Rockford said, somewhat surprised. “How did you figure that out?”

  Brian looked at Crosby. “He told me on the phone that the FBI had that license. So since he’s standing there and you’re the one sitting down, I’m guessing you’re FBI.”

  Rockford smiled. “Pretty smart. Maybe you should join the FBI someday.”

  “Kids like me don’t join the FBI.”

  “No. You join street gangs instead.”

  “Sometimes,” Brian admitted. “Now what do you want to know. I can’t stay here forever.”

  “First of all,” Rockford said, “Who’s going to get killed?”

  Brian smiled. “I wondered if you would be worried about that the most.”

  “Kid, we’ve got to know. We can’t let it happen.”

  “Good luck stopping it,” Brian said. “But to answer that question, I’m not going to tell you yet. I need to tell you a few other things first.”

  “Kid, we need to know.”

  “And I only know what I saw and heard. And it all happened at the same time, in one place.”

  “Where?”

  “The Scorpion’s building. Where they hangout.”

  “Where all the murders took place?” Crosby asked.

  “You were there again,” Brian said to Crosby. “You saw what they did.”

  “What who did?” Crosby asked.

  “The same three guys who were there before. The same three guys who blew up that jet at the airport. The same three guys who are going to kill someone else…actually, a few other people.”

  “But you don’t know their names,” Crosby said. “All you knew was that they wore suits.”

  Brian smiled. “But this time, I do know their names.” He leaned back as all four of the grownups in front of him suddenly leaned in close.

  “Who?” Rockford asked.

  They were all leaning in towards him. Now Brian purposely leaned in towards them. None of them backed away. His voice was calm but determined. “When Father Joseph named me David, he told me this story about another kid like me named David who killed some big giant guy named Goliath. Then he suggested that maybe the Scorpions were my Goliath that I needed to kill. But I didn’t have to. Someone else did it for me. My Goliath turned out to be the man that killed all those Scorpions, the same man that blew up an airplane at the airport and I hear that killed a few policemen in the process. David in the story killed his Goliath with a stone from a sling. The question I want to know is, are you willing to be my stone?”

  Rockford was momentarily rocked. He stared at Brian for a moment then said, “That’s what we’re here for kid.”

  “Then I’m hoping that when all this is done, you’ll kill him for me.”

  Rockford shook his head. “Let’s hope we won’t have to.”

  “He needs to be killed. Not to mention, he did blow up that jet.”

  “Kid,” Rockford said. “It doesn’t work like that.”

  “But sometimes, it happens,” Brian said.

  “Sometimes,” Rockford admitted.

  “Then let’s hope it happens this time,” Brian said.

  Rockford said nothing to that. “So who is it you think needs to die?”

  “The guy in charge,” Brian said. “His name is Michael. Michael Scuderi, or something like that.”

  “Scuderi!” Rockford exclaimed.

  “You know him?” Crosby asked.

  “I’ve heard of him,” Rockford replied. He turned back to Brian. “Who’s he going to kill?”

  “Wait a minute!” Brian said. “I’m not there yet.”

  “Damn it! Get on with it!”

  “Michael and his two friends, Pete and Josh…don’t ask me their last names because I don’t know. I only heard him call one of them Pete and the other one Josh.”

  “Okay!” Rockford said impatiently.

  “Are you recording this?” Brian asked.

  “Why?” Rockford asked his head suddenly spinning at the change in direction.

  “Because you should. I’m not telling this again.”

  “You want it recorded?”

  “I really don’t care. Like I said, I’m not going to tell all this again.”

  “You will if we haul your ass downtown,” Rockford told him.

  “And if you do, I can guarantee I’ll never tell you a single thing. Just like you’re not getting everything out of me until I have that license.”

  “You haven’t told us anything yet!” Rockford yelled.

  “Sure I have,” Brian replied calmly. “Michael Scuderi, Pete, and Josh. And since you recognized Michael’s name, then I’m guessing you’re a lot more interested than you were before.”

  “Who the hell are you?” Rockford yelled.

  Brian shrugged. “Father Joseph calls me David. I kind of like the name. Just like I liked the David and Goliath story he told me.

  “I don’t give a damn!” Rockford said. “Who’s going to get killed?”

  “Can I have the license now?” Brian asked.

  “No! You haven’t told us anything useful yet.”

  “Michael Scuderi isn’t useful?”

  Rockford stared angrily at him for a moment. “It’s not enough!”

  Brian shrugged. “I told you about the first time they paid a visit to the Scorpions, but I didn’t know their names back then. A couple of nights ago, they came back. Before they came in, I heard Frank suddenly yell for everyone to get the guns. By the time I was able to see what was happening, I saw Frank, Tank, and Big Paul pointing their guns at the door. None of the girls had any guns.”

  “What girls?” Crosby asked.

  “Raven and Bella.”

  “Who’s…” Rockford started to ask.

  “I’ll fill you in later,” Crosby told him. “Gang members. Frank the Shank was the big cheese though.”

  “Okay,” Rockford replied, then turned back to Brian. “So what happened?”

  “Michael and his two goons walked in, and Frank didn’t seem to be too happy about it. He said something dumb to them and Frank immediately started shooting. So did Big Paul and Tank. I watched as they all kept shooting towards the door, but then Big Paul went down and his girlfriend Bella went down a few seconds later, even though she didn’t have a gun. And then Frank got shot but they didn’t kill him. Tank ran out of bullets, and he went down last. Raven was the only one there they didn’t kill, and she was crying over Frank when Michael and his friends came back in. I couldn’t figure out how they could kill four Scorpions, but none of them got shot. I didn’t figure it out till later when I saw the door. As close as I can come, they held the door mostly closed while they shot through the small opening. The metal part of the door was shot to hell!”

  “Then what happened?” Rockford asked.

  “Michael walked right over to Frank. Frank was alive but bleeding all over the place. He had blood coming out of his mouth too. Michael talked to Raven and told her to leave her cellphone behind and then take off to find her friend, Legs.”

  “Who’s Legs?” Rockford asked.

  “Another of the girls. She steals purses and stuff, and she runs. Fast! Anyway, once she was out of the way, Michael says to Frank, this is for some lady I used to know…or something like that. He was doing it for some woman. Then he shot Frank right in the head.”

  “You saw that?” Crosby asked. “You saw Michael shoot Fran
k right in the head?”

  Brian looked at Rockford. “I told you, you should be recording this. I don’t want to have to repeat myself all the time.”

  “How do you know it was Michael Scuderi?” Rockford asked.

  “Because that’s what his friends called him. “Actually, the one he called Josh called him Michael. The other one, Pete, called him Mr. Scuderi. Put it together.”

  Rockford nodded. “Okay, what happened next? Anything?”

  “How about a phone call,” Brian told him.

  “To who?”

  “Michael called him, Pop, so I’m guessing it was his father, but I never heard any of the kids on the street call their father Pop.”

  “He might,” Rockford told him. “Did you hear what they said?”

  “That’s one of the big things I thought you might want to hear about,” Brian told him. “But I want the license before I tell you.”

  “No.”

  “Then I don’t tell you.”

  “Why do you want that license anyway? It can’t do you any good.”

  “It’s not for me,” Brian told him. “Someone else wants it.”

  “Who?”

  “That’s my business, not yours.”

  “Why do they want it? It’s no good.”

  “It is to them, I guess. All I know is that they want it. Besides, what good is it to you?”

  “That’s my business,” Rockford told him.

  “In other words, it’s doing you no good at all. You’ve just got it and you’re using it as leverage to get the information out of me.”

  Rockford smiled. “You keep showing me you’re smarter and smarter. You really do need to join the FBI someday.”

  “And like I said, kids like me don’t do that. At least put the license on the table between us. Otherwise, I walk out of here right now.”

  “Not if we haul you downtown and talk to you there. Or perhaps spending some time in jail would loosen your tongue.”

  Brian smiled. “I always wondered what that would be like. Don’t bet on me talking, I can guarantee I won’t say a word. Besides, I’ll bet I’d be out of there in less than an hour.”