by Wayne Block
“No can do. I’ll be in Atlantic City for the next few days. Maybe we can meet early next week.”
“I’ll come to Atlantic City,” Steven pressed.
“No. I’m taking care of some serious business. I’ll call you in a few days and we’ll get together. I know Alberto will be very excited that I heard from you. I gotta go now, but I’ll catch up with you in a few days.”
“Okay, Nick. We’ll speak soon.” Steven sat back in the chair and looked at the ceiling. Nick had just lied his ass off. He considered calling Nick back, but changed his mind. He wanted to mull things over before deciding the best way to deal with his old friend the fraud.
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Nick waited outside of the hotel, nervously smoking a Brazilian cigarette. Giovanna had returned to the room complaining of a headache. Nick had become increasingly obsessed with Giovanna’s encounter with Giorgio. Adding to his tribulations, Steven was cavorting in Honduras with Pablo Munoz. How the hell did Steven ever get to Pablo Munoz? The last thing Nick needed was Steven snooping into the past. It was becoming increasingly difficult for Nick to monitor the actions of all these players: Steven, Giorgio, Giovanna, and Alberto. He felt his control was slipping away. He needed to eliminate some of the variables.
Upstairs, Giovanna sat on the porch gazing toward the beach. She closed her eyes and focused on Giorgio’s accusations. She replayed Giorgio’s words in her mind and knew something was amiss. How did Giorgio know Nick? There was no reason that the two should ever have met. Giorgio was insanely jealous, but he had admitted his part in the killings. He could have remained silent and she never would have known anything about his involvement. He knew his role was unforgivable, yet he confessed. Part of his motivation was selfish; Giorgio needed to purge himself of his sins. She could not accept the possibility that Giorgio was telling the truth.
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Steven’s midnight flight was the last into King Airport, outside Charlotte Amalie in St. Thomas. Steven was relieved the flight had arrived at night. The flight path took his breath away–a quick descent over low-lying mountains bordering the runway.
The airport was abandoned except for a rental car employee dutifully remaining at her post. Steven studied the other passengers. Nobody was watching him. Only three passengers remotely fit the Scorpion’s general description. Steven tried to recall more details about the hiker on the trail. He could only remember that he was athletically built.
Steven retrieved his bags and watched the remaining stragglers leave the airport. There was no one here to pick him up. He knew Joaquin’s name, but not where he lived. He scouted around looking for a phone book, but could not find one. He called information to locate Joaquin Ordonez, but found his number was unlisted. Steven resigned himself to an overnight stay at the airport, locating the most well-protected bench with a wide-angle view of the terminal. He propped himself up against his carry-on. He was about to close his eyes when, out of the corner of his eye, he spied an elderly man entering the far side of the terminal. The man was wearing bright yellow golf slacks and a light blue shirt. He sported a full head of white hair and had a tanned, deeply lined face. He stopped a few feet short of Steven and stared.
Both regarded each other for a few seconds in silence.
“Mr. Ordonez,” Steven asked.
The man finally blinked. “Yes, Steven Capresi, I’m Joaquin Ordonez.” Joaquin turned around and walked a few steps toward the exit, while Steven remained seated, uncertain whether he should follow. Joaquin abruptly stopped and turned. “Are you coming or would you prefer to remain here?”
“I thought you’d have a driver.”
“I’m not Pablo Munoz.” He pointed to the door. “Shall we?”
Steven retrieved his bags and followed Joaquin out of the terminal to an old Honda Accord. What an old fossil, he thought. This was the great Joaquin Ordonez, for whom he had battled sharks and flown to St. Thomas just to obtain an audience?
Joaquin turned the car out of the airport onto Veteran’s Highway, past Frenchtown and along the harbor through Charlotte Amalie.
“Thank you for picking me up. It’s late and very inconvenient for you.”
“Yes, it is.”
Wow, talk about your conversation killers, Steven thought.
“How long have you lived here?” Steven asked, trying a different topic of conversation.
“Ten years.”
“Do you like it here?”
“Yes. Why?”
Steven was at a complete loss for words. He had thought the question was innocuous. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”
Beyond Charlotte Amalie, the Honda climbed uphill, overlooking Frenchman’s Bay. The roads were narrow and steep, complete with frequent hairpin turns. Both men sat in silence for the duration of the drive. The car approached a fork in the road and Joaquin proceeded up a small hill where moments later, rows of condominiums overlooking the beach came into view. Joaquin turned into a long driveway, pulled into a parking spot, and turned off the car. “This is my home.”
Upon entering, Joaquin abruptly stated: “Mr. Capresi, I’m very tired. The second bedroom is yours,” he said, pointing inside. “Feel free to eat or drink anything you like. I’ll see you in the morning.” Joaquin bowed slightly and disappeared into his room, leaving Steven to wonder what he was doing on this island with this strange man.
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Braulio and Pete were parked outside Giorgio’s apartment, while Louie and Eddie watched a soccer game in Louie’s suite. Eddie pulled out a joint from his wallet and lit a match.
Louie gave him a disapproving glance. “Eddie, what are you doing? You know Nick don’t like us getting stoned on the job.”
Eddie shrugged. “This place is getting on my nerves. I haven’t been this bored in years. I need a few hits.”
Louie chuckled. “Just do me a favor–go outside and smoke so this place don’t stink and Nick don’t know!”
Eddie smiled. “I’ll go for a walk on the beach. Want to join me?”
“No.”
“Okay, see you later,” Eddie said as he left the room, never to return.
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Giovanna and Nick had concluded an unenthusiastic love-making session. Giovanna put on her nightgown and retreated to her side of the bed with a magazine in hand. Nick couldn’t endure the suspense any longer. He moved close to her and gathered her hands in his.
“Gia, what’s bothering you?”
Giovanna forced a smile. “I’m tired and I’ve had a headache all day.”
Nick frowned. “I don’t believe you. I know something is bothering you. You haven’t been yourself since your walk on the beach. Did anything happen that I should know about?”
Giovanna stared into his eyes, trying to decide whether Nick might have learned about her meeting with Giorgio. There was no reaction from him as he continued to tenderly stroke her hands. She had been wondering how to broach the subject.
“Nick, when I was in the pool this morning, I was approached by a man.”
“What man?” Nick asked, noticeably concerned.
Giovanna lightly touched his hand. “Let me finish. He was my cousin Giorgio, although I hardly recognized him.”
Nick acted confused. “Who’s Giorgio?”
“Giorgio is my cousin from San Remo. He worked with my brother. I showed you a photograph of Giorgio in my hotel in New York.”
Nick feigned bewilderment. “I don’t understand. If he lives in San Remo, what’s he doing here?”
Giovanna looked closely at Nick, trying to detect the faintest hint of treachery. There was none.
“Giorgio told me he was here because of you.”
“Me?” Nick exclaimed.
“Giorgio told me that you were involved in the deaths of my brother and my parents. He told me that he was given an ultimatum to cooperate with you or that he would be killed.”
Nick stayed calm. “And you believe him?”
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“I’m not sure, Nick. Giorgio is a very jealous man, but he has always been truthful.”
“What does that mean?” Nick said, taking the offensive. “This man is your cousin. Why would he be jealous?”
Giovanna softened her expression with only the faintest hint of a sad smile. “Giorgio and I were lovers.”
It took everything in Nick to maintain his composure without betraying the outrage he felt in his heart. He could not fathom such an incestuous relationship, and was beyond just feeling shocked. Nick continued smiling as he held her hand.
She detected the disgust on this face for a split second and felt ashamed.
“I don’t know him, Giovanna, and I have no idea what he is talking about. I don’t know why he would choose to upset you and to invent such an outrageous story. Does he know about our relationship?”
“Yes,” she said. “He is very upset.”
Nick nodded his head in a patronizing manner. “That answers the question.” Nick continued stroking her hand. “I don’t know how to respond except to say that he’s lying.”
Giovanna looked deeply into his eyes. “Nick, I want to believe you. There was just something about his demeanor that troubled me, but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Why don’t we find him and ask him, plain and simple.”
Giovanna looked off into the distance. “I have no idea where he is and no way of contacting him.”
“Perhaps he’ll contact you again.”
She lowered her head. “I don’t think so. I said awful things to him.”
“I’ll do whatever is necessary to convince you I’m telling the truth.”
“I’m fine, Nick. I’m glad we talked about it. I feel much better.”
Nick was relieved to have temporarily cleared this hurdle, but it meant dealing with Giorgio immediately.
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Eddie followed the path from the hotel to the beach. As he reached the sand, he discreetly lit his joint. He inhaled deeply and let the smoke fill his lungs. He took several hits and made short work of the joint, snuffing out the roach and burying it in the sand. He felt relaxed. As Eddie approached the path back to the hotel, he noticed a man leaning against a tree, staring out to sea. As Eddie passed by him, another man jumped out. Before Eddie could react, the first man had reached him, wrapped his arm around his head and plunged a knife into his back. The second man wrapped Eddie’s lifeless body in a huge plastic bag, hoisted him over his shoulder, and walked to a van where they deposited his corpse and drove away.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Steven awoke mid-morning to bright, Caribbean sunlight flooding his room. He adjusted his eyes and beheld the postcard-quality scenery. Beyond a line of coconut palms stretched an expanse of pristine, white, sandy beach, lightly caressed by a turquoise sea.
Joaquin was seated on a chair, reading the newspaper. “I trust you slept well?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you,” Steven said.
“Hungry?”
“No thanks. I’m not big on breakfast,” Steven answered.
Joaquin folded his newspaper. “Neither am I. But I do cherish my coffee. Like some?”
Steven shook his head, and took a seat next to Joaquin.
Joaquin lowered his eyes. “I am truly sorry for your pain.”
Steven looked into the eyes of his host. This was certainly a different man from last night. Steven might have misjudged him.
Joaquin faced Steven and sat back in his chair. “How old do you think I am?”
Steven shrugged. “Sixty-five.”
Joaquin grinned. “Thank you for the compliment. Actually, I am seventy-three. The last ten years in St. Thomas have been the best of my life. I spend my days reading and drinking the local rum. I have never been more content.”
“I envy you.”
Joaquin frowned. “You could have everything you need right here, if you wanted it. You’d have the rest of your life to find peace.”
Steven stiffened. He hated thinking of his own happiness. He knew he could settle comfortably into island life and wash away his sorrow sipping rum in the island breeze, but that wasn’t his destiny. “I don’t want it.”
Joaquin seemed to understand. “You want to find the man who killed your family.”
“That’s correct.”
“And when you find him, you’ll kill him?”
“With great pleasure.”
Joaquin gazed at the bay and considered Steven’s words. “And once you’ve killed him, what will you do?”
“Does it matter?”
“In essence, you exist solely for vengeance?”
“It is my only reason to live.”
“I neither judge nor condemn you, Steven Capresi. You’ve traveled far and passed through enough obstacles to know this is what you must do.”
“Yes.” Steven was appreciative that someone finally understood.
Joaquin removed a photograph from a folder on the table and handed it to Steven. It was a picture of a young man dressed in a tuxedo. The man was clean-shaven with a swarthy complexion and dark, wavy hair. He had a distinguished face with high cheekbones and a dimple in his chin. He was athletically built.
“This is the man you seek. This is James, when he was twenty-one. His legal name is Edward, but he preferred to be called James. Today he is simply ‘the Scorpion.’”
Steven’s eyes were fixated on the face staring back at him. His pulse quickened and his temples throbbed as he stared into the eyes of the man who slaughtered his family. Where had Steven seen this face before?
“Actually, Steven, you remind me of James.”
Steven shot an angry look at Joaquin, disgusted at the comparison. He stared in silence at the photograph and couldn’t believe he finally had a face against which he could direct his hatred.
“James is a complicated man.”
Steven looked up from the photograph with a curious expression. “Aren’t you afraid of him?”
“Yes, I am. But I’ve lived my life. He might kill me. He might spare me. Such are his ways. I don’t mind helping you because you have no chance.”
“Aren’t you betraying him by speaking with me?”
Joaquin shook his head. “What he did to your family is unforgivable. James and I retain an eternal bond because of our past, but that is all we have left. We’ll always have the past, but our relationship is simply one of unpaid debts.”
Steven was barely listening, lost in the picture. “This man looks very familiar.”
Joaquin shrugged his shoulders. “That is what makes him so proficient. He is every man and no man.”
Steven made a face at Joaquin, dismissing the comment. “So what do you want to tell me about Mr. Everyman?”
“Nothing–at least not in my home. We’ll go into Red Hook for lunch and drink Cuba Libres, and I will tell you about me and James.”
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As Nick and his men passed the front desk on the way to breakfast, a pretty blond clerk addressed him as she withdrew a small, gift-wrapped box.
“Mr. Manzione, a package just arrived for you.”
Nick pulled out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to her, then moved away and wrestled with the wrapping paper before removing the top of the box. Inside, on a bed of white cotton, was a severed human finger saturated in coagulated blood.
“Fuck! That’s Eddie’s ring,” Braulio said, peering into the box over Nick’s shoulder.
Louie retrieved the wrapping paper that Nick had discarded. “Did you see this card attached to the box?” Louie asked.
“Give me that,” Nick demanded, taking the card from Louie. He strained his eyes to decipher the tiny, neatly printed writing, and then read it out loud:
“Manzione–this is your only warning. One down and four to go. Get out of Rio or your woman starts losing body parts, too.”
Nick crumpled the note. “It’s game time boys. Louie, take Braulio and find Giorgio. Call me when you’ve got hi
m.”
Louie and Braulio disappeared out the front doors of the hotel.
“What’s our next move?” Pete asked.
“We’re getting the hell out of Rio,” Nick replied.
“What about Renaldo and his gang?”
“Screw those guys. They’re not worth getting killed for. I have some unfinished business with Giorgio before we leave. Until then, let’s play it cool and keep a low profile.”
Giovanna emerged from the elevators and Nick waved to her.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Nick said, smiling widely at Giovanna and talking to Pete from the side of his mouth, so Giovanna couldn’t hear. “When she gets here, escort her to the table while I make a quick call.”
Giovanna approached with a smile.
“You and Pete get a table and I’ll join you in a minute,” Nick said.
He watched them walk into the restaurant while he dialed Giorgio. Giorgio answered in a tired voice, slurring his words.
“Giorgio, its Nick. I got a little present in the mail this morning–the finger of one of my men. I can only assume that you had something to do with it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. In fact, I was just getting ready to call you because everything is set to go.”
Nick snickered, knowing that Giorgio was dying to double-cross him.
“When’s the meeting?” Nick asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“That’s too late. My plans have changed. I’ve got emergency business in New York and I’m leaving ASAP. We’ll have to forget the meeting.”
“Are you crazy? Do you know what it took to get everyone together? I’m handing you these guys on a silver platter! All you have to do is show up and finish it!”
“No can do. Not tomorrow. You’ve had plenty of time to set this up and you screwed up. Tell them whatever you want and I’ll call you from New York.”