by Wayne Block
“Amanda, I’m so sorry I made you come here by yourself,” he whispered. “Take care of our babies and I’ll be with you soon.”
Steven said nothing as he knelt down beside where his daughter lay. The detective stood motionless, his eyes cast toward the ground as he was thinking of his own granddaughters. Steven stood surveying the scene. Everyone in the house was standing perfectly still. Time was frozen.
Steven carefully pulled back the sheet and stared down at the face of his little angel. He was astonished to see that she looked like she was sleeping peacefully and would soon awaken. He smiled at her. The mottled color of her skin was the only sign something was amiss. Steven bent down and lifted his daughter’s body from the floor and cradled her tightly. No one was worried about Steven contaminating the scene, since Detective Johnston had moved the technicians like a drill sergeant to finish the process before Steven Capresi was allowed to enter.
Steven gently rocked his daughter in his arms. Why had he taken for granted that there would be an endless supply of tomorrows and second chances? Why had he abandoned them for a stupid business? The tears fell freely as he held his daughter’s body tighter, stroking her hair. He knew that when he finally released her, he would be letting go of everything he had lived for. He felt all the goodness instilled in him by his mother, wife, and daughter ebb away. It was replaced by a massive black wave that was contaminating his soul. All of the misfortunes that befell him during his life came flooding back. He could feel the rage he had suppressed for so many years swell in his chest. Steven clenched his teeth and shut his eyes tightly. The metamorphosis was complete. His life, as he had known it, was over. Steven Capresi was dead and from that death he knew he had the strength for revenge.
Detective Johnston watched as the young widower said his final goodbyes. Could this broken man possibly be responsible? Watching Steven holding his child, the detective was almost certain that he wasn’t involved. However, the detective had to keep an open mind. Anything was possible when it came to human behavior. This seasoned veteran was now having trouble maintaining his composure with the juxtaposition of the ultimate display of love and the ultimate act of evil before him. He would never forget the sight of this father cradling his dead child and how it had rekindled his own personal hatred for the killers of the world. At that moment, something deeply connected him to Steven and he hoped the man before him was innocent.
Detective Johnston walked down the stairs ahead of Steven, and looked on as he descended the stairs, leaning on the railing for support. Each step became more difficult. Steven’s breathing became heavier and his head throbbed. The ground moved beneath him. His mind was filled with thoughts of his wife’s lifeless body and his dead daughter. Millions of memories swirled around and he couldn’t see anymore. The sky went black. He reached into the darkness toward a face without description, but there was no one there. He felt himself falling into the blackness. The detective rushed toward Steven as he collapsed.
CHAPTER FOUR
A gray September sky befitted the somber mood of the funeral. Tears of rain drizzled lightly as Steven slowly walked to the Queens gravesite, a serene area under the protective shade of a sprawling oak. Next to him walked Amanda’s mother, Dolce Bollini. Steven tried to be strong for the two families, united this day in grief. He remembered his father’s funeral and the pained expressions of his family members as they walked to the grave. Amanda’s father, Amador, walked a few steps ahead; his head bowed low, his eyes to the ground. He was seventy-eight and had been in excellent physical health. Amador was a proud man who ran a family restaurant for thirty years and had put all of his six children through college. He had aged ten years over the last three days. Steven’s mother, Francesca, followed her son, her face shrouded in black lace. She was escorted by both of her daughters. Behind them walked Amanda’s three sisters. Lagging far behind the group was the man who had loved Amanda more than anyone in the world, her older brother Marco.
The service was brief. Elderly relatives were seated on green plastic chairs beneath the canopy set up adjacent to the graves. Steven sat in the front row, between his mother and mother-in-law, tightly squeezing their hands, their rosary beads digging into his skin and making impressions on his palms.
The priest commenced the final prayers. “We are gathered here today to pay our respects to Amanda, Catarina, and Mia. In the midst of such sorrow, may we turn to the words of God’s love for us.” The priest droned on, invoking the words of Psalm 121: “I look up to the mountains. Does my help come from there? My help comes from the Lord, who made the heavens and the earth!”
Steven closed his eyes. He didn’t want to listen. These were meaningless words. He no longer believed in God.
The priest spoke directly to Steven as he finished the psalm, as if he sensed Steven’s faltering faith. “The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade. The sun will not hurt you by day or the moon at night. The Lord keeps you from all evil and preserves your life.”
First, he lost his father; now, his wife and children. God had clearly abandoned Steven, and it was Steven’s turn to abandon God. This time forever! Venom pulsed through his veins. The rest of the priest’s words were lost on him, as he slowly clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
The priest concluded his prayers and Steven laid a white rose on Amanda’s polished, black walnut casket, and another on Catarina’s. He had not slept in days. He had no more tears to shed. His thoughts were far away and, strangely, he felt no more sadness.
A gentle hand on his shoulder and a soothing voice brought him back to the present. He turned towards his mother-in-law. She had pulled back her veil, revealing a face, swollen from prolonged crying, but beautiful nonetheless. Steven looked into the eyes of his mother-in-law and saw his wife’s face thirty years older.
“Steven,” she whispered, “do not turn away from God. Jesus Christ is the truth, the life, and the way. Honor your wife, so that you will be reunited with your family in heaven. Promise me.”
Steven squeezed her hand tightly as they lost themselves in the mounting piles of white roses on the caskets.
“I love you,” he said softly. “I will always honor my wife.” He was uncomfortable knowing that he could not promise what she had asked of him. He sensed that she had read his thoughts during the priest’s prayers.
The procession of roses and kind words continued until all the mourners, except one, had retreated into the warmth of their dry cars. Steven laid his hand on Marco’s shoulder. Marco knelt beside his sister’s casket, burying his face in the roses. Steven watched Marco’s body heaving as he sobbed.
Marco was the bedrock of the family for as long as Steven had known him. Strong and handsome, smart and kind, Marco had been the envy of the neighborhood.
Steven helped Marco to his feet. The two men looked into each other’s eyes and both knew what the other was thinking. “I feel your pain, Marco. Not a moment goes by when I don’t think about how I failed them.” Steven looked away, haunted by guilt.
Marco sighed loudly as the tears fell silently. “All my life I looked after her. You know what a jerk I was when you started dating her!”
Steven smiled. “No more than a brother should be. Who would have believed we’d be like brothers!” Steven continued.
Marco took both of Steven’s hands and held them tightly. “You are my brother and I love you. I will always be there for you.”
The two men walked in silence to Marco’s car. Neither man said anything as Marco got in and drove away. Steven turned back to the canopy to say his final goodbyes. The cemetery was now empty. Steven walked toward the grave and was surprised to see a solitary figure kneeling beside Amanda’s casket. He moved closer, just as the man crossed himself, laid down a red rose, and stood to leave.
The man’s eyes fixed on Steven’s as both men regarded each other in a tensely unbroken silence. Neither man moved. Steven spoke first.
“Hi Nick, I’m glad you came. It would h
ave meant a lot to Amanda that you were here.”
Nick Manzione continued staring but said nothing. His eyes were red. Steven didn’t have the patience to play games with his old friend and rival.
“Look Nick, the past is the past. I can’t do anything about it. My wife and my daughters are dead and I’m alone. I’m sorry for what happened between us, but if you can’t move on, then that’s your problem, not mine. I’m happy to see you here, I really am. But if you still hold a grudge, you can kiss my ass!”
Nick sat on one of the green chairs and motioned for Steven to sit next to him. Steven obliged and the two men sat in silence, gazing at the caskets. Steven and Nick had been best friends since they were little boys. The Manzione family was then sovereign in the Brooklyn Mafioso. Over the past twenty plus years, it had expanded in to lower Manhattan and the Bronx. Nick taught Steven the ways of the street and Steven taught Nick how to box. Carlo, Nick’s older brother, was always bailing them out of trouble. They were inseparable. As the boys grew older, Nick’s father, Pierro, pressured his son to become more involved in the family business and encouraged Steven to join them whenever possible. However, Steven’s mother was adamant that her son never became involved in organized crime. She was hysterical when she discovered that Steven was running “errands” for Nick’s family. Gradually, Steven’s mother’s influence prevailed and Steven took an interest in organized boxing and his studies. Nick eventually dropped out of high school. The two friends chose different paths and eventually lost touch with each other.
“I’m sorry too,” Nick said, as he let out a loud sigh. “I was an idiot. I was wrapped up in myself and I was too proud. I miss you, man. You were my best friend. In my line of work, I don’t have many friends.”
“I know, Nick. I’ve seen the people you hang around with. I’m amazed you’re still alive.”
“Survival of the fittest, dog eat dog. You don’t know the half of it, my brother. I live in a crazy world of short life spans! Steven, I’m sorry about the way I handled everything with Amanda.” He let out another sigh as if he’d been holding in the words all his life. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to say that to you.”
Steven nodded his understanding. “Yes I do, because I’ve wanted to say the same to you. I know you loved her, and I know she loved you, and at the end of the day, that’s all that really matters. It never bothered me that she had feelings for you.”
Both men continued gazing at the casket and thought of the woman they’d both loved. Before Amanda met Steven, she had dated Nick. At first, she had been infatuated with his good looks, money, fancy car, and the influence he had around town. She was young and impressionable. To Nick, Amanda had been just another pretty face and he dated a multitude of women. Somewhere along the line, however, they both fell in love. Nick decided he wanted to marry Amanda, but her parents were not fond of Nick, his family, or his reputation. They forbade her to see him anymore. Nick pleaded with Amanda to elope with him but she would not disobey her parents. Although they stopped dating each other, Nick vowed he would marry her someday.
When Amanda met Steven, she had no idea that Steven and Nick had been friends. She had finished college and had lost touch with Nick. When Amanda started working, Nick began calling her and coming to her office. She had lunch with him a few times, but was very honest about her intentions. Still, they renewed their friendship and Amanda enjoyed his company. Nick’s feelings toward Amanda grew stronger. Amanda told him that she had gotten engaged. At first Nick was shocked and angered, but Amanda reassured him they would always be friends. When he discovered her fiancé was Steven, he flew into a rage, cursed them, and renounced his friendship with both. Steven tried to talk to his old friend but Nick swore he’d kill Steven if they ever met again.
“Does this mean that you no longer want to kill me?”
Nick chuckled. “Did I say that? I haven’t decided.”
“She loved the letter, Nick,” Steven said, changing the subject. “She kept it in the drawer of her nightstand with her most cherished items.”
Nick looked genuinely surprised. “You mean my letter? The one I wrote to her when she married you?”
Steven nodded. “She never let me read it, and made me promise that I never would.”
“You’ve never read my letter?” Nick asked.
“No, I haven’t. She said it symbolized a special bond she would always have with you.”
A tear rolled slowly down Nick’s cheek as he looked at the casket. Even though he’d shunned his two friends, he had written a letter to Amanda and delivered it to her the morning of her wedding. He refused to see her and left it with one of her bridesmaids. For all these years he was uncertain whether she had received it. “Forgive me.”
Steven put his arm around his friend’s shoulder. “I’m asking your forgiveness, too. I wanted to speak with you at Carlo’s funeral, but my pride got in the way. I’m sorry.”
“I saw you at my brother’s funeral. I could have come over to say hello, but I didn’t. I was a jerk. It meant a lot to Alberto and me that you were there.”
“I miss Carlo,” Steven said. “I loved your brother like he was my own.”
“He loved you, too.”
“We had some great times together.”
Nick smiled. “Remember when you guys had a boxing match and you knocked him out with a right hook?”
Steven laughed. “It was an uppercut and the luckiest punch I ever threw! It was one in a million!”
Nick chuckled. “Carlo threatened that he would kick our asses if we ever told anyone about it.”
Steven nodded, laughing aloud. “I’ve kept that secret all my life.”
“Me too,” Nick said. “I never told a soul.”
“Let me buy you a beer and a slice of pizza at Angela’s,” Steven said. “There’s something I want to discuss with you.”
Steven and Nick watched as the grave workers lowered the caskets into the ground and began covering them with dirt. The sound of earth striking the coffins hit Steven harder than any punch he ever received; the same sound that had haunted him for years after he watched his father being buried. He glanced at the remaining plot next to his wife that was reserved for him. Steven turned away and walked to his car believing with all his heart he would never be coming back to this place again, alive.
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Angela’s Pizzeria, an Italian eatery in Brooklyn, had been Nick and Steven’s hangout since they were kids. Angela was a close friend of Steven’s mother. The smell of tomato sauce, melting cheeses, and garlic wafted through the air and brought them both back to their childhood. Angela could hardly contain her emotions when she saw Steven. She threw her arms around him and hugged and kissed him.
“Steven, Steven…I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to come to the funeral. Did you get my flowers?” Her sincerity was evidenced by the tears on her face.
“You mean our flowers, don’t you, mama?” said Joseph, Angela’s eldest son, as he hugged Steven and kissed his cheeks. “Everybody is devastated. You know if there is anything we can do, we’re here for you.”
Steven smiled. “I know. Thanks.”
Nick and Steven slowly made their way to the back of the restaurant, amidst a smattering of people standing to squeeze Steven’s hand or embrace him. They finally reached a booth nestled in a corner where they would have privacy.
Nick was particularly interested in Amanda and wanted to know every detail about Catarina. Four beers later, they ran out of things to say and were lost in private thoughts.
“So what are you going to do now?” Nick asked.
“I died the day my family was killed, Nick. There’s nothing left for me now.”
Nick lowered his eyes and said nothing.
“But I have one piece of unfinished business and it’s something you can help me with. I want to find the people who killed my family.”
“I know how you feel, but what you need is a shrink to get you right in the head.”
“I need your help, Nick!” Steven said.
“Look, Steven, even if I wanted to help you, I don’t have any information. Nobody knows what happened. Wait for the police to do their job.”
Steven glared at Nick. “If you want to play me for an idiot, go ahead. We both know that your family is looking too. I’m not a moron. You and Olivaro were good friends. This had to be connected with Tony’s business. So paisan, if you loved Amanda, show me. Tell me what your family knows so that I can find the bastards who murdered her.”
“Don’t use that against me! Amanda would never have given her blessing for revenge, and you know it!” Nick said, his face flushed with anger.
“Amanda is dead!” Steven yelled, pounding the table with his fist.
Nick waited a few seconds for Steven to regain his composure. “Trust me, Steven, let it go!” Nick said in a calmer voice. “My family and I will take care of it.”
“I’m already doing this,” Steven said, clenching his jaw, trying to contain himself. “What if it was your wife and your little girl, Nick? Would you sit around doing nothing, or would you hunt down the killers?” Steven didn’t wait for a response. “No, you’d use every resource at your disposal to kill them, just as I intend to do!”
Nick leaned back in the booth and carefully chose his next words. “You can take comfort in knowing that Tony was clean. I take comfort in knowing that much. His partners were scumbags and that’s what got them killed.”
Steven remained expressionless. “Keep going.”
“Tony’s partners messed with some big shots in Rio. I think they were skimming money or doing phony invoicing, and the Brazilians discovered what was happening. They sent a message to all of their customers in New York. That’s why Tony’s wife was killed. They put out the word, mess with us and we’ll kill everyone.”
“I want to know who did it.”
Nick hesitated. “I know you’re stupid enough to go after this guy, but you’ll end up dead. He’s totally out of your league. Amanda would not have wanted me to get you killed. That much I do know!”