by Karl Tutt
Chapter 10
The funeral wasn’t well attended. Me, and a few others I vaguely recognized. Two of the soldiers from the Family were there to show their respect. Father Silvestri was at the graveside. He said all the right things and provided his usual Godly presence. Short and sweet. Lute was a child of the savior, not perfect, but no man is. He would meet his maker and the Man would decide his eternal fate. The priest prayed for mercy and forgiveness. I guess it was supposed to be sad, but maybe I knew Lute too well. After each of the mourners had thrown a handful of dirt over the casket, the small crowd began to disperse. One graybeard lingered. I hadn’t seen him in years --- didn’t even know he was still alive --- but I recognized him instantly.
“Mr. Ferrara, you probably don’t remember me.”
He raised a grizzled hand like a stop sign at a school crossing.
“You gotta be kidding me, Elmo. I remember like it was yesterday. You and Lute on the front step tossin’ quarters, ogling the girls, trying to stay out of detention at the old high school. It’s good to see ya.”
He threw a paw around my neck and held me to him.
“Thanks for being here. Lute would have been proud. He was a good boy, ya know. Always respectful to his Ma, God rest her soul. He made Mass near every Sunday, and always served the Family. No questions asked. This shudda never happened. He was no snitch. They shudda known that.”
I nodded while a tear crept down his pock-marked cheek. He buried his face in a stained handkerchief, blew his bulbous nose like a Harley exhaust, and looked up at me.
“My Momma used to quote the Bible to us . . . the kids, too. ‘Live by the sword, die by the sword.’ That’s what she used to say. I guess that’s kinda what he did. I don’t guess I helped too much. Shudda watched you kids a little closer, maybe found a different line of employment. You know . . . set a good example. Anyway, it is what it is. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”
He turned back toward the black limo. I put my hand on his arm.
“Maybe you can help. I’d like to know more.”
“Ah, Elmo. I ain’t no dummy. I know you’re in bed with the cops. I remember Billy, too. Smart-assed Irish punk. I saw him standing up on the hill, watching like a hungry wolf. I know you and him is tight. Even old men hear things. What’s done is done. We all know our time’s coming. Lute’s time just came a little early. Maybe he’ll rest in peace. Who the hell knows? But take it from an old soldier, son. Don’t bite off more than you can chew. My Momma said that, too. Maybe you oughta take that good lookin’ witch and go on a long vacation. I don’t want to come back here until it’s me they’re plantin’.”
The message was clear. I released his arm and he hobbled back to the car.
I figured I had . . . bit off more than I could chew. They tried to kill me. I still didn’t know why, but I knew the next time they’d be a little more careful and a little more efficient. And there would be a next time. So where do we go from here? I had to talk to Eleisha.
I caught a cab and went back to the apartment. She was sitting on the sofa watching Oprah. She picked up the remote and dialed down the volume. I went to the kitchen and poured a tumbler of what masqueraded as Cabernet.
“So how’d it go?”
“It was a funeral. They’re always a kindof sad, and there’s always a healthy amount of bullshit. This one was definitely both. Nice service, all the appointed mourners. Father Silvestri did his best comforting tone and message. I did see Dom Ferrara, Lute’s dad. He had some interesting observations and some advice we ought to consider.”
I told her about the old man’s warning.
“So the Spook wants to run? Yeah . . . right. That’s a serious pile of crap. Everyone thinks you’re quiet, a little weird, but mostly harmless. You’re talking to a lady who knows different.”
“Yeah, but what about you? He mentioned you specifically, called you that good lookin’ witch. I can’t let anything happen to you.”
“That’s touching . . . and I will certainly thank Dom for the compliment when I see him . . . which I hope is never.”
“I just don’t want you in any danger.”
“Yeah, well if I was worried about that, I’d be dating a lawyer. Wait . . . maybe I ought to think about that one, too.”
“Very funny, my dark darling, but the threat is real. We could both be in harm’s way. I got a few bucks stashed in the safe deposit box. I hear Bimini is nice this time of year.”
“You must think I’m some sort of fool. I know you won’t back down on this thing. You’ve got the bone in your teeth, and you’ll keep clenching until the marrow is dripping out of your mouth. So save it for the suckers. What do we do next?”
Gutsy lady. We both knew the answer. At this point, all roads led to Shasta. More info, even a meeting, if we could pull it off. My good looking witch thought she could. I didn’t ask any questions. I took a slug of the red and went off to pre-heat the oven. Shasta disappeared into the back. I could just hear her voice on the phone.