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The Starlight Club 5: Revenge: The Godfather, Goodfellas, Mob Guys & Hitmen (Starlight Club Mystery Mob)

Page 15

by Joe Corso

“No. This woman means nothing to the big man. It’s this one that will bring him to us.” He tilted his head toward Mary. “Besides I need this one alive to give a message to the big man. Come on. I’m going to tie you up,” he said to Maria.

  A few hours later Moose rang the bell but no one came to the door. He rang the bell a second time and waited. Still no one answered. Swifty took out his key and opened the door.

  “Maria! Maria, we’re home!” No answer.

  Trenchie stiffened. He’d had a feeling all afternoon that something wasn’t right, but he couldn’t put his finger on it so he cast it aside. But now he was certain something was wrong. He didn’t need to be told that his wife and child weren’t there, he just knew it. Call it street instinct, that second sense that screams at you that something is not right, that you have to learn to listen to, especially if you’re in Trenchie’s line of work and you want to stay alive.

  The kidnappers had left Maria bound and tied in the hall closet. When the boys entered the house they heard a banging noise coming from the closet. Moose opened the door and was surprised to find Maria lying there bound and tied. When he untied her and pulled the gag from her mouth, she was almost hysterical. She began excitedly to relate everything that had happened from the time she answered the door until she was placed in the closet. Then she gave Trenchie the message she was told to give him.

  “Stay close to the phone and answer it when it rings. That’s what the man told me to tell you, Mr. Trenchie.”

  The day Trenchie had been dreading had finally arrived. He must have sensed it earlier when he told the boys that he would kill anyone who hurt his family. But instead of panicking he descended into a placid state of mind. He knew that whoever took his wife and baby wouldn’t hurt them, at least not until they had him. From experience he knew they’d wait until they killed him before they killed her and the baby. But he was a realist. He knew with absolute conviction that the scenario playing out in his mind was a certainty. These people were going to kill him first and then they’d kill his family. With the understanding that Mary and the baby would never be allowed to live replaying in his mind like an endless loop in a movie, he smiled. What the Latino gang members didn’t factor into the equation when they kidnapped Mary and little Jimmy was that they were now playing the game of death with death himself, in the form of Trenchie. In that game there could only be one winner.

  The big man’s thoughts were interrupted by Swifty. “Where do you think they took her?” He asked no one in particular, but Trenchie answered in a soft voice.

  “We’ll know that when we get the phone call.”

  The men looked at one another as the truth sunk in. “You mean. . .”

  “Exactly,” Trenchie said. “They were kidnapped to get to me.”

  Swifty tilted his head. “Maybe they want to blackmail a big movie star like me.”

  Trenchie shook his head. “No, this is personal. They want me.” Trenchie looked at the men facing him. “When the call comes, I want you guys to stay out of it. I’ll handle this myself.”

  Moose’s brow furrowed and he looked at Trenchie with a long face. “You can’t do this by yourself. Let me make a call to Red. He’ll have a hundred guys here by tomorrow morning.”

  “No! I said I’d handle this. It’ll be over by the time Red and his men get here.”

  Henri asked, “But Trenchie, surely we can do something to help you.”

  “No. I appreciate the offer. But I’m going to kill every one of them myself. I want to look into their eyes when I do it. Make no mistake about this, they are all dead men walking, whoever they are.” He looked up at Swifty. “Do you know how to make a pot of coffee? I’m going to need plenty of coffee in me with what I have to do tonight.”

  At eight o’clock the phone rang and Trenchie picked up the receiver. “Who’s this?”

  “This is the man who has your pretty wife and baby. That’s who this is.”

  “What do you want?”

  “That’s more like it. What I want is you. If you have hopes of ever seeing your pretty wife and baby alive then listen carefully and write down what I tell you.”

  The man on the phone gave Trenchie the address and told him to be there at midnight sharp.

  “I want to speak to my wife. Put her on.”

  “You are in no position to make demands, but to show you that I’m a reasonable man, say hello to your beautiful wife. She’s so pretty. If you don’t do exactly what I say, I may just keep her for myself, and when I’m tired of her, I’ll put her to work on the street.”

  “Just put her on, asshole. I’ll deal with you later.”

  The gang leader expected to hear a nervous voice on the other end of the phone, and he was a little surprised to detect no fear or concern in the voice. No matter. He held all the cards. This man would come to him and then he’d die. So, with a smile, he handed the phone to Mary.

  “Say hello to your husband, puta.”

  With a trembling hand she took the phone. “Trenchie, I’m so frightened.”

  “Don’t worry about anything, hon. I’m coming for you and I promise you that you and little Jimmy will be fine.”

  “Be careful, Trenchie. I’m—”

  Berto Santana, the leader of the LA Dukes, wrenched the phone from her. “That’s enough talk. Are you satisfied, Mr. Trenchie?”

  “Yes I am. I have your address and I’ll be there at midnight.”

  “Good. We’ll be waiting for you.”

  “Before you hang up the phone I have to tell you something.”

  The gang leader smiled. He was enjoying the pain he assumed Trenchie was feeling. But this pain was nothing to what he would soon be feeling.

  “Yes, go ahead. What is it you want to say?”

  “Just this. No one hurts me, or mine. I’m coming for you. I promise you that before this night is over, I’ll kill everyone of you. None of you will be left alive.”

  “That’s big talk for a dead man.”

  “You don’t understand, you prick. I died a long time ago. You are holding the one person who brought me back from the dead. You don’t know me, friend, but I never make a promise I don’t keep. You just stay there and I’ll be seeing you shortly. In fact, I can’t wait to see you.”

  The gang leader looked at his men. “¿Este hombre está loco?” He scratched his scraggly beard. “Jose, go up front and wait for this man. When he comes, bring him to me.”

  “Sí jefe.”

  “Edwardo, this man who is coming for his wife and baby is dangerous. You go with him.”

  “Ahora me iré.”

  “Ortego, wait outside the door. When you see Jose and Edwardo come in with the man, you back them up to make sure he does nothing foolish.”

  “Sí pista.”

  When Trenchie put the phone down he looked at Moose.

  “Call Charlie Tags and tell him I need a gun with a silencer, like right now. Tell him it’s an emergency. He’ll understand.”

  Charlie “Tags” Tagorelli once worked for Red but he left Queens to be re-united with his ex-wife in California. Although he was no longer in the rackets, which was what his wife demanded in order for them to be a family again, she allowed him to remain in the weapons business because she considered it just business. After all, weren’t guns being sold in stores around the country? Besides, she knew Tags would have to make a living somehow, so she turned a blind eye to his selling guns. But once a member of La Cosa Nostra, always a member. That was Red’s philosophy. You could leave the family but you’d always be part of it, and one day you might be called upon for a favor; and when that day came, Red would expect that favor to be granted.

  At 9:45 the doorbell rang. Swifty opened the door and Tags walked in with a grim face, carrying an attache case. He had never met Trenchie because when Tag was with Yip’s outfit Trenchie was doing his ten years at the Q, but he had heard a lot about the big man, and all of it good.

  Trenchie didn’t mince words. “You Tags?”


  “Yeah, that’s me. And you, I take it, are Trenchie.”

  “Yeah that’s me.”

  “Nice to meet you, Trenchie. Sorry it has to be under these circumstances. I hope you can use me tonight because I have a wife and kids too, and I wouldn’t want this bullshit happening to me. So if I can be of any help, just name it and it’s done.”

  Trenchie only met Tags for a few minutes, but he was a good judge of character. He liked the guy.

  “No,” he said rather emphatically. “Thanks, but I’ll handle this myself. Whoever did this to my family has made it personal, and now I got a score to settle . . . And - I - always - settle - my scores. Now tell me the item I ordered is in that attache case.”

  CHAPTER 26

  Trenchie followed the instructions he was given earlier and parked the rented Ford Fairlane a block from the address. He wore his black fedora, which all the wise guys wore, a black top coat and skin tight, black, lambskin driver’s gloves. He would need them tonight. Trenchie, never a nice guy to begin with, reverted to his brutal killer prison persona. Being a soldier for the mob, he sometimes was ordered to kill those that encroached on Big Red’s territory; or he might be ordered to whack a connected guy who broke one of the commission’s rules. But now he would exact his revenge on these small time punks who were using the only thing he cared about in this world to get to him, his beloved wife.

  He never knew what love was until he met her, and he found that he loved his wife Mary more than anything in the world. She was the big surprise in his life, because he never figured on finding someone like her. Talk about the forces of destiny. On the day he was released from prison, after completing a ten year prison sentence, he had decided he needed new clothes, so he borrowed Red’s car and drove to Valentino Maximus, on Spring Street in Manhattan. He had just left the store and was walking to his car when he heard screams coming from an alley. When he went to investigate he found two men, trying either to rape or kidnap a woman. He didn’t know which and he didn’t much care, because in his world men didn’t do that to a woman. He couldn’t just watch what was happening to her, so he stepped in and saved Mary from her crazy ex-husband Julius, who was attempting to kidnap her and take her back to Virginia. Trenchie rescued her, and in a relatively short time the two fell in love. She was responsible for bringing Trenchie back to life, and he wasn’t going to let some greaser gang leader take her away from him.

  He took out his Colt 45, 1911, and screwed on the suppressor. Holding it by his side, he walked quietly for such a big man. It was as if he were walking on wisps of smoke. The address was an abandoned General Tire store that had been condemned by the city of Los Angeles. The LA Dukes had taken possession of the building and made it their headquarters, and no one in Los Angeles had the nerve to challenge them on it.

  Trenchie walked quietly but quickly, making sure to stay out of the light and close to the buildings, trying to keep his six foot five inch frame hidden in the shadows. He wanted to get this over with fast. He was worried about Mary and his boy and was anxious to get to them before these punks hurt them. Trenchie was fearless and in complete control when facing danger. He was by necessity a deadly killer, and tonight he was given no choice. He knew he would either kill all these men, or be killed by them, and he didn’t much care which it was as long as his wife and child were saved. Because of his state of mind, the men standing in front of the building, waiting for him to arrive, were dead men already, only they didn’t know it yet.

  The two men were on heightened alert, and Trenchie realized he needed a diversion if he were to get close enough to neutralize them. The diversion came unexpectedly when a car swerved around the corner and began firing shots at the two men, who ducked down the steps leading to the cellar. A rival gang? Trenchie wasn’t sure but he thanked God for small favors. This was the diversion he needed. The two men guarding the entrance shot out the front tire of the car, causing it to crash into a hydrant, then spiral out of control and crash into a storefront. Trenchie saw one man hanging out of the passenger side of the car and a second man slumped over the steering wheel. He quietly approached the two gang members in front of the building, who were still gazing at the wrecked car. One of them became aware of movement behind him and turned. As he did, Trenchie fired one silenced shot into the head of Edwardo, killing him instantly. Before Jose could react, Trenchie grabbed him from behind as if he were a rag doll. Trenchie towered over this little Latino, who felt like a feather to him.

  “Is there another way into this building?” Trenchie whispered threateningly.

  “Si, Si. A side door.”

  “Is it locked?”

  “Yes. Usually it is unlocked, but because we were expecting you Berto locked it.”

  Trenchie raised his Colt, pressed it against Jose’s forehead and was about to pull the trigger.

  “Wait, wait. Don’t shoot me. I have the key.”

  Trenchie released the hammer of his Colt 1911 and pulled Jose real close. “You’re going to get me in that building, and you’ll do it quietly. Do you understand me?”

  “Si, Si. Yes, I understand.”

  Jose led Trenchie around to the alley leading to the rear of the building. About half way down the alley was a set of steps on the other side of a wrought iron railing, leading down into the cellar. Jose took his keys from his pocket and searched through them for the right key. Satisfied, he placed the key in the lock and opened the door.

  “How many men does your boss have, and where are they located?”

  “There are eight of us, including Berto our boss. You killed Edwardo so that leaves seven. He has Ortega stationed outside the door to his office. The others are all in the office, or with the women.”

  “Women? You mean there are other women here?”

  “Si, he has taken Lopez’s woman because Lopez wouldn’t pay him protection money. That was Lopez’s car that shot at us.”

  Great, Trenchie thought. “How many women are there besides my wife and Lopez’s woman?”

  Jose looked guilty as hell and stared at his shoe laces. “Yes, there are three women including your wife there. He’s going to put them to work as prostitutes.”

  The usually stoic Trenchie blanched. No self-respecting hood would ever think of making a living off a woman’s body.

  “Berto said your woman is very pretty and he’s going to put her to work too, after he kills you.”

  Trenchie ground his teeth. “He is, is he? Going to put my woman to work in the street, eh? Well, I’m just going to have to do something about that. Where’s his office?”

  “Directly above us.”

  “How do I get there?”

  “The stairs are over there.” He pointed to his right.

  “Come on, we’re wasting time.”

  The two men walked up the stairs with Jose leading the way. He was about to open the door leading into the hallway but Trenchie stopped him.

  “How far is the office from here?” he whispered.

  “About ten feet. Ortego is standing guard outside the office door.”

  “Listen up,” Trenchie said. “When we get to the door, you’re gonna tell Berto that you have me.”

  “But what about Ortega?”

  Trenchie gave him a tight lipped smile. “Oh don’t you worry none about Ortega. He won’t be much of a problem.”

  Trenchie opened the door and took a peek at where he thought Ortega would be. He spotted him with his back to him, facing the front door, waiting for Jose and Edwardo to bring him in. Trenchie took two steps toward him before shooting him in the head, then he pushed Ortega’s body away from the door with his foot as if it were a rag doll.

  “Now, knock on the door and tell your boss I’m here.”

  Jose did as he was told. He knocked twice. “It’s Jose, jefe. I have the man.”

  “I thought I heard gunshots out front.”

  “That was Lopez coming for his wife. We killed him and his friend.”

  “Good.”

  T
he door opened and Trenchie kicked it in with such force that Berto flew back over the sofa facing his desk. Trenchie turned and shot a surprised Jose in the head then, before anyone could reach for their guns, he shot Berto in the head and pointed his gun at the four remaining men.

  “Put your weapons on the desk, boys, but do it carefully.”

  Each man slowly put his gun on the desk.

  “Does anyone speak English?” They all answered yes. “Where are the women being held?”

  “Upstairs. There’s a room where they are being held.”

  “Who’s watching them?”

  “We have a woman who works for us watching them.”

  “Are they all right? They aren’t hurt are they?”

  “No. No. What do you think we are, animals?”

  “Why yes, you dumb shit, that’s exactly what I think you are. Animals.” With that, he looked into their eyes and smiled as he lifted his Colt and shot them in the head one at a time, killing them instantly, leaving them staring blankly ahead with surprised looks on their faces. “Kidnap my wife and kid, eh. Well I’m not quite done with you guys yet,” he snarled.

  He walked down the hall and found the staircase leading to the upstairs room. He stood before the door, wondering whether to try the doorknob to see if the door was unlocked, or just to kick it in. He decided he’d just kick it in. He backed up a couple of feet and, with a powerful thrust of his leg, he kicked at the door. It exploded off its hinges, with pieces of the door breaking away from the jam.

  The woman was taken completely by surprise and shrank against the wall as the foreboding figure of Trenchie filled the doorway. Mary rushed over to him and threw her arms around him. Little Jimmy was lying in a cradle crying. Apparently the sound of the door being kicked in had woken him. This Berto Santana character apparently knew the women would require a place for their babies after they were kidnapped.

  Trenchie spotted the gun resting on the table but his eyes drifted to the woman, pressed against the wall, fearing for her life.

  “Please, señor, I am a simple woman who is just trying to get by. They pay me a little money to watch the women.”

 

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