by Joe Corso
Trenchie didn’t answer her. Instead he turned to Mary and his eyes narrowed. “I was worried sick about you. Are you all right? They didn’t hurt you did they?”
“No. They didn’t hurt me or Jimmy, but they sure scared the life out of me. Why did they let you up here?” Then a thought occurred to her. “Trenchie, are we still in danger?”
Trenchie grunted, which was his way of laughing. “No, babe, we’re not in any danger. But I still have a few odds and ends to clear up, so I’m gonna take you to the car and then come back here to finish what I started. Okay?”
She hung her head, not wanting to think about what her husband had to do.
Trenchie turned to the other two women. “Are you ladies all right?”
They had been silent until now. They both nodded. “We’re fine now.”
Trenchie turned his gaze from the kidnapped girls to their jailer, who was still pressed against the wall, hoping somehow to become invisible. “How did she treat you?” He pointed to the woman who had been guarding them.
Lena, one of the girls, spat at her. “That miserable pig took pleasure in our captivity. She treated us like dirt, telling us we will become whores and we’ll enjoy working the streets. Telling us things like that.”
“Do you feel the same way?” he asked the other woman.
“Yes. She’s a sadistic pig. She enjoyed hurting and taunting us. She enjoyed the fact that Berto intended to make us prostitutes and work the streets for him.”
Trenchie nodded. “Would all of you please step out of the room and wait by the stairs for me while I have a few words with this lady.”
Mary picked up little Jimmy and led the women from the room. As soon as they settled by the stairs Trenchie raised his gun and shot the woman once in the head, as she placed her hands over her face, trying to hide from the bullets. She was the first woman he had ever killed. When he shot her he didn’t take this into consideration. She was just someone who intended to harm his wife. One of the rules he lived by was, you didn’t kill women or children, and Trenchie lived by that rule . . . Until now.
“Let’s get out of here, and when you’re safe in my car, I’ll come back here and finish what I started. Then I’ll take you ladies home.”
With the women safely locked in the car, Trenchie walked back into the house of horrors. One by one he dragged the bodies into the office, then he scoured the house for something. He found it in the kitchen: a large machete type knife. Placing the knife on the desk, he walked over to the window and pulled down the long, faded curtain that covered the dirty office window, affording this drab, depressing room some privacy. He ripped it down and wrapped it around himself. He tightened his gloves, picked up the knife, walked over to Berto Santana and calmly beheaded him. The knife was dull, so it took a little longer to systematically behead the others, including the woman who took pleasure in torturing the captive women. When he had finished his gruesome task he took each head and placed it, one next to the other, on the shelf facing the door. Then he untied the blood splattered curtain wrapped around him and dropped it to the floor. He walked over to the sink and rinsed the blood off his gloves without removing them. He checked the room to make sure he had taken care of everything. Satisfied there was nothing else to do, he placed the machete on the desk, left the building and, on the way to his car, dropped his leather gloves down a sewer.
Trenchie started the car, but let it idle without putting it in gear. He didn’t talk much but he needed to say something to the women, so he turned and looked at them over his shoulder.
“Ladies, I’d like you to do me a favor.”
They all nodded vigorously. “Anything, señor, just name it.”
“I don’t want you to go the police about this.”
“But why, señor?”
“The bad guys are all dead. If you go to the police they’ll ask a lot of questions and you’ll end up in court. Then you’ll have to hire a lawyer and that will cost you a lot of money. Those men can never hurt you again, and it wouldn’t serve any purpose to tell the police what they did to you. They can never be punished because, like I said, they’re all dead. If they were still alive, it would be another matter. Then I would tell you to go to the police and tell them everything. But there’s no longer anyone alive for them to punish.”
The gravity of what Trenchie just said hit home. Lena’s eyes were wide open. “You mean you killed all those men by yourself?”
Trenchie looked the woman in the eyes. “I’m not going apologize to you or to anyone else for killing them, because it was either them or me. But you’re going to read about something in the papers that will seem rather nasty to you. I want you to know I did it to leave a strong message to other gang members who might get ideas about kidnapping innocent women and turning them into prostitutes.”
Trenchie put the car in gear and drove slowly past the house, taking one last look at it. He spotted the crashed car and noticed that only the dead passenger remained in it. The driver’s door was open and there was no driver behind the wheel. It appeared that Lopez had survived the crash, which made Trenchie glad. Maybe the two kids would have a future after all.
CHAPTER 27
Trenchie dropped the women off and waited for them to enter their house before driving back to Swifty’s home. They didn’t say much for the first part of the trip back, but then Mary looked at Trenchie, whose eyes were riveted to the road.
“Trenchie, I was so scared. I didn’t know what was happening. I thought they would kill little Jimmy. I didn’t care about me. I was worried about my baby.”
“I know, hon. I know. I was worried about the both of you.” Trenchie was uncharacteristically emotional when he looked at her and said, “I don’t know what I would have done if they hurt you or Jimmy. I think I would have shot myself, because I couldn’t live without you.”
Mary thought she saw a tear roll down his face but because it was so very dark in the car she couldn’t be sure.
“You killed them all, didn’t you?”
He nodded. “Yes, all of them.”
“But how could you do that when there were so many of them?”
He took a deep breath. “Well, I couldn’t think of how many there were. All I could think of was that I had to get you and Jimmy out of there. I got lucky when Lopez showed up looking to rescue Lena. That gave me the edge I needed. From then on it was easy. It wouldn’t have been if he didn’t show up, but he did.” He added with a grim smile, “It seems the good Lord watches over wise guys too.”
He pulled the car over by the side of the road, letting the car idle.
“Come over here.” She slid over to him and nestled in his strong arms. He picked up her chin and kissed her tenderly on the lips. She was crying. “Hey! What’s all this about? Everything is all right now. So why the tears?”
“I know, Trench. That’s why I’m crying. I’m so lucky to have a man like you in my life. I love you so much I’d die if I didn’t have you.”
She couldn’t see him nod, but he did.
“Yeah. I feel the same way about you. You gave me life, kid. I would have looked for a bullet to take me out of here if it wasn’t for you. You came into my life at exactly the right time, the day I got out of prison. What could be more fortuitous than that? Smile, kid, because we were meant for each other. And if I couldn’t have you in this lifetime I would have searched the underworld to find you, to have you for the next lifetime. You are mine and no one will ever take you away from me and that’s a promise.”
Mary smiled, tears rolling down her face. “Trenchie, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. And that’s more words than I heard you speak since we were married.”
They both laughed. Then Trenchie put the car in gear and pulled back onto the freeway. “Come on, let’s get to Swifty’s house. I could use a good cup of coffee.”
Moose was waiting outside the house smoking a cigar when the Fairlane pulled into the driveway. He opened the door and yelled into the h
ouse. “Hey guys! Trenchie’s back and he’s got Mary and the baby with him.”
Everyone rushed out to greet them, including Maria. She rushed out to hug Mary and the baby.
Presently, they all sat around the big table, anxious to hear what happened. Trenchie wasn’t proud of what he’d done and he would never speak of what happened that night. The old fear of ears listening to what was being said kept him from talking about anything that could put him away for another ten years. So he didn't say anything. It was Mary who told the boys what happened.
Swifty couldn’t believe what he heard. “Eight men? You . . .”
Trenchie stopped him. “Don’t say another word.” He tapped his ear with his finger, a signal that ears could be listening. “There’s nothing worth telling. I’ll tell you about it if you want, but not now. I got my Mary and my boy back safely and that’s all that matters to me. Now, how about something to eat. I’m starved.”
Maria, who had been standing behind the wall near the living room, heard every word that was said and rushed to the kitchen to prepare a meal for Trenchie fit for a king. After what he had done, that’s how much she respected him.
The next morning Moose walked into the dining room holding the newspaper. He smiled and handed the paper to Trenchie.
“Looks like somebody did some rather nasty things to some gang bangers last night.”
Everyone sitting at the table stopped eating and waited for Moose him to tell them more. Finally, Swifty broke the ice.
“Well, are you gonna tell us or do we have to go out and buy our own papers?”
Moose had a funny look on his face. It was as if he didn’t want them to see the headlines. He turned the paper around and held it up so the guys could see the picture covering the entire front page and read the headline displayed prominently above the picture.
“GANG MEMBERS SLAUGHTERED.”
Swifty took the paper from Moose and read the article out loud:
Police attribute this brutal act to a vigilante group, angry at the horrific crimes this gang was known to do. It is apparent that one person could never have penetrated this gang stronghold and committed these murders by himself. It was obviously a well planned, coordinated assassination of these dregs of society. This gang were known (A) drug dealers, (B) kidnappers of young girls, who were then forced into prostitution, (C) extortionists who used threats of violence if money wasn't paid to them. It appears that vigilante activism, once prevalent in the old west, has once again surfaced on the streets of South Los Angeles. This act of brutality appears to be motivated by the need to restore justice to this community. It is apparent that now that this gang has been slain, law enforcement must concentrate on bringing to justice the perpetrators of this heinous crime. The murderers, not content with just killing these gang members, beheaded them, and placed the heads prominently on a shelf, with a note that said, “This is what happens when you kidnap women and children.”
The men at the table couldn't take their eyes off the picture showing the heads of the gang members.
The paper went on to explain that two cribs were found in the upper room as well as a substantial amount of rope, four sets of handcuffs, four cots, and a headless woman’s body. Police surmised that the woman was guarding a group of women, some possibly with babies. Formula as well as the remains of food were found, as well as a small quantity of canned food stored in a closet in the room. When questioned about the grizzly find, Police Chief Oscar Marquise had this to say:
There is no doubt in our mind that this crime was committed by a vigilante group of six to eight men, but certainly no less than six men. We reconstructed the crime scene as best we could and our experts have determined that this crime would not have been successful with any less than six men. Thank you. No more questions for now.
“Holy shit,” Gonzo blurted out. “Man! Remind me never to piss Trenchie off.”
Even the stoic Moose shook his head.
“Man, I could see him killing these guys. Hell, I would have been happy to do it myself if I was with him, but man . . . Taking off their heads and putting them on a shelf? Wow. I don’t know if I could have done that.”
Henri, who had been quiet till now, said, “He wanted to make a statement. That’s something I would have done if somebody kidnapped my wife and kid.”
Swifty looked at him sideways. “Are you shittin’ me? You’d do that? Chop their heads off?”
Henri put up his hands defensively. “Don’t get me wrong, man. I'm just saying that if they had my family and were threatening to hurt them, I’d do whatever I had to do to save them. Then, if I was successful, I might want to make a statement, like Trenchie did. You know, as a warning to other bad people that might want to do the same thing. It might give them pause to think. Would I want this to happen to me? No! But if it did, then I can understand why Trenchie did it. He wanted to leave a message that would shake up other gang members; and what the hell better message can you leave but a bunch of gang bangers’ heads on a shelf?”
Swifty took a sip of coffee.
“Yeah, maybe you’re right. It’s just that I grew up on the streets too, and I would never think of doing something like that.”
***
Mary had had enough of Los Angeles, so she told Trenchie she wanted to go home.
“Are the suitcases packed?” he asked.
“Yes. I packed them this morning.”
Trenchie tilted his head toward the living room. “No sense waiting. Might as well tell the boys we’re leaving.”
After saying their goodbyes to the three boxers and Marie, Trenchie put the suitcases in the car and drove to the airport, where they dropped off their rental car and took the first American Airlines flight leaving LAX for Queens. All Mary was concerned about was to get back to New York and the safety of her cozy College Point apartment.
After landing at Idlewild, Trenchie hailed a cab which took them to their home in College Point, Queens. He knew there was still a contract out on him and, while he didn’t worry about many things, he was worried about his wife and son; so he was wary until they stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind them, encapsulating them in safety.
Mary planned on having more children, so Trenchie had bought her the penthouse when it became available because it had an extra bedroom. He kept their original apartment as an investment. As soon as she stepped into the apartment Mary rushed Jimmy, who was fast asleep in her arms, to his cozy bedroom and put the little guy into his cheerful bed, surrounded by Mickey, Minnie and Pluto. Meanwhile, Trenchie opened the luggage in their bedroom. Mary would put the clothes away in the morning.
Trenchie went to the bar and made two gin and tonics. Mary joined him in the living room, straightened her dress and took the drink he handed her. She sat wearily on the large, comfortable, white leather couch facing the huge glass sliding doors, overlooking the twinkling lights of New York City. She took a sip of her drink.
“It’s so good to be home. God I needed this.”
Trenchie tipped his glass to his wife. “Something to relax us before we hit the sack.”
“God knows I need to relax after what we went through.”
Trenchie, who was never a nurturing man, attempted to be tender and caring to Mary. Although it was difficult to express how he felt, he loved her dearly.
She was a wise woman who knew when to pick her fights with her husband. When he left the house at odd hours without telling her where he was going, she knew this wasn’t the time to question him. She understood the type of men he associated with and knew the type of man he was. What other man could have gotten her and Jimmy out of that hell hole? No one, that’s who. She felt safe with Trenchie and knew with absolute certainty that he loved her more than anything in the whole world. He would never let anything happen to her, and knowing that made her feel special, which, in a way, she was. She was a good wife, mother, homemaker and friend, to both Trenchie and their son.
Trenchie put his empty glass on the
bar and told Mary he had to check in with Red before he could get a few hours sleep. She took his glass into the kitchen while Trenchie called the Starlight Club.
Red picked up the phone.
“I’m back,” was all Trenchie said, but it was enough to relax Red who had been worried about him and his family.
“Glad to see you made it back without any problems. I heard what happened in LA.”
Trenchie figured Moose must have telephoned Red and told him all that had happened, in the coded way that mob guys use.
“Did you just get in?”
“Yeah. I’m gonna hit the sack for a few hours, then I’ll meet you at the club.”
“Okay, see you in a little while. But be careful, because there are a couple of bill collectors from Boston who are looking to serve you with something.”
Trenchie yawned. “Boston, eh? Okay, thanks for the heads up. I always pay my debts and I’ll make sure to pay these Boston bill collectors in full when I see them. Talk to you later.”
Red hung up the phone and chuckled. Nothing seemed to faze Trenchie, not even a couple of hit men from Boston.
CHAPTER 28
“What the hell’s the problem with the Boston crowd?” Red opened the box of Cohibas, took one out and extended the box to Trenchie, who took one and sniffed it.
“Cuban, eh? Good cigar.”
“I got a few cartons delivered to me recently. I’ll give you a carton to take home with you.”
The two men lit their cigars and Trenchie kept his gaze on Red. “So what are you going to do about it?”
“Well, for one thing, I’m not moving our family to Las Vegas or Hollywood. I’m staying right here. It’s almost as if the universe is talking to me. Things keep happening to make sure I stay here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, little things keep popping up that require I be here. Doc brought us in two very lucrative contracts. One is to tear down the old section of Horace Harding Boulevard and build a section of the Long Island Expressway over it, and the second is to build two of the buildings in the upcoming New York World’s Fair.”