by Pete, Eric
We drove past the entrance to the Verrazano-Narrows Bridge, continuing down the Belt Parkway, going who knows where. No one else in the car seemed concerned about the detour we’d just taken. Apparently I was the only one in the dark.
“Uh ... why did we just pass the bridge? Staten Island is that way.”
“There’s been a slight change in plans,” LC said, tapping the driver’s shoulder. “I decided against meeting in Staten Island, but we’re still meeting with Dash. Anyway, before we get there, anything you want to share?”
“Uh ... no,” I answered. “Why?”
“Think carefully about your answer,” my father-in-law said, sitting calmly next to me with his hands folded together in his lap.
He advised me to think carefully, but I could barely think straight. How the hell was I going to get myself out of this? I couldn’t come up with a lie, so the next best thing was to play dumb.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” I said with a casual shrug. “We’re supposed to be going to see Dash, see what he wants, while Junior and them try to get my daughter back. I trusted you to do that. Otherwise I wouldn’t be here. What’s going on, LC?”
“You’re the father of my grandbaby. Keeping family together is important to me,” he stated cryptically. “You can appreciate that, can’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I answered. This line of questioning and LC’s demeanor were making me extremely nervous. I felt the palms of my hands getting damp as the SUV exited the parkway.
“You know, I’m a little hungry. You want something to eat? You hungry?” LC asked me, his mood suddenly switching to a more energetic, animated state. The problem was that when LC mentioned he was hungry, it often meant someone was about to die. I’d learned that the night he took me to the apartment above the fried chicken joint and initiated me into the family business.
I checked my phone again. Still nothing.
“Nah, I’m good,” I told him. I could barely hear my own voice above the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. “I just want to get this meeting over with and go home to my daughter.”
“C’mon. Let’s grab a bite in Long Island. I know a good Italian place. You’ll like it. It’s called Frangio’s. Ever heard of it?”
My lip started quivering uncontrollably.
“They say it’s Sal Dash’s favorite eatery, this place Fran-gio’s. You ever been there?” He intentionally stressed the last four words. Obviously, he already knew the answer.
I took a deep breath and wiped my sweaty palms on my lap, prepared to beg for my life if I had to. “LC, I—”
“What was the plan, Harris?” he asked, no longer toying with me.
I lowered my head, heart pumping rapidly as I considered the revolver given to me by Dash. Clearly, LC knew something, and the men seated in front would be ready if I tried anything.
The truth. It might be my only chance for survival.
“The plan was that I kill you and they let Mariah go,” I answered in defeat.
“You still gonna kill me?” He pointed at my jacket, almost daring me.
“No. I wouldn’t, LC. I swear. It was never my intention.”
“Really? So why didn’t you tell us about your meeting?” He pointed at the space between us on the back seat. “Go on, now. Take it out. I want to see it again.”
“LC, they ... they showed me a video of Mariah,” I said, choking up. “But I couldn’t do what they wanted me to. You gotta believe me.”
“Take the gun out, Harris,” he demanded.
I warily complied, closing my eyes as I pulled the revolver from its hiding spot. Once in the open, I placed it on the seat beside me then pushed it farther away. Then I raised my hands in surrender. A bullet to my head was sure to come next. I should have killed him when I had the chance.
“Put your damn hands down,” LC instructed me, sounding disgusted. I listened, but kept my hands tightly gripped on my seat.
The SUV came to a stop. We’d traveled down a worn road riddled with potholes and covered in debris. I looked out the window at the bleak surroundings, which were remote, far away from prying eyes.
Then the doors unlocked. I’d been brought here to die.
“I only did what I had to do. I never wanted to hurt or disrespect you or the family,” I said solemnly. “So ... I guess this is it.”
“We’re still meeting with Dash,” he stated, not taking his probing eyes off me. “Or rather, you are.”
“Me? I... I don’t understand.”
“Take your gun and get out,” LC ordered.
“LC, I never planned on using it.”
“Well, you’re going to use it now—if you want to leave here alive.”
A wave of panic came over me. Did he expect me to shoot it out with his men?
“Please, please don’t kill me,” I begged. “I just wanted Mariah back safe.”
“Who said anything about killing you? You’re my son-in-law, part of my family, right?” he said with only a slight hint of irony in his voice.
“Yes.”
“Good. So I need you to prove it, or, as the Italians say, it’s time to make your bones.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“You’ll know when you get there. And while you’re doing that, I’m going to follow up on a few things, check on Mariah.”
LC motioned toward the door. I still wasn’t sure where I stood with LC—did he consider me family or foe now?—but I took the revolver and got out as ordered. I flinched when the bodyguard lowered his window, half expecting him to shoot me. Instead, he instructed me to walk through the overrun parking lot in front of me, toward a building that looked to be abandoned.
“Just knock on the door,” he said.
The door of the abandoned building was rusted, but from the flakes on the ground I could tell it had been opened recently. Someone was inside. I took a nervous breath, patting the gun to make sure it was still in my pocket before I knocked.
I was greeted by a well-built white man around my age, probably Italian, if I had to guess. He stepped aside so I could enter. Inside the dimly lit space, two men were leaning against a desk smoking cigars. When they saw me, the white-haired one got up and led me to another door.
“Right this way, Mr. Grant. Mr. Dash is expecting you.”
I nearly shit my pants when I realized Sal was there—and LC knew it before he’d sent me into the building. At this point, I was pretty sure I’d been set up. LC had probably made some type of deal with Dash the same way he’d done with Rio. The difference between me and Rio, though, was my sharp lawyer’s mind. I had the ability to talk my way out of sticky situations. I just had to figure out a way to talk myself out of this one.
It took me a minute to process what I saw when I opened the door, because it was so far from what I had been expecting. Sal Dash was there, but instead of sitting behind a large desk surrounded by juice-head goons ready to kill me, Sal was in his underwear, tied to a chair in an otherwise empty room.
I walked cautiously toward him, still trying to make sense of what I was seeing. Sal grunted as he tried to free himself with a harsh tug. His chair hopped once, but that was all. Expert knots held the rope that bit into his skin. His face looked like someone had taken out some frustration on it.
I removed his gag. “Hello, Sal,” I muttered, feeling cocky all of a sudden.
“Look at this shit. Bastards snatched me when I was going to church service. I’m a family head, Harris! You just don’t do something like this to me.”
“Just like you don’t take a man’s child?” I said, taunting him.
Sal stared at me in contempt, until he saw me remove the gun from my jacket. For the first time, I witnessed something less than the supreme confidence he usually displayed. I witnessed fear in his eyes.
“That was overreaching,” he offered meekly. “I’ll be the first to admit it. But you have to understand. I never intended to hurt your daughter. I wanted LC to think the Mexicans took her, so the
y’d go to war.”
“You used my child to start a war?” I asked, barely able to contain the rage I felt building in my chest.
“My men are weak ... selfish. I knew if we had to go head to head with LC, they would fall apart under pressure. I needed to do something to weaken LC ... take his family out of the equation. At least enough where my family could survive. That’s all it was.”
“Is my daughter okay?” I whispered harshly, gripping the pistol with a new intensity.
“Of course. She’s somewhere safe.”
I raised the gun.
“Cut me loose,” he pleaded, his face now wet with tears. “I’ll pay you anything you want. You name it.... Don’t you see? They’re trying to pull you in, make you just like them. But you’re not like them, Harris. You’re not.”
“They didn’t pull me in, Sal. You did, when you first visited me back at Georgetown all those years ago, trying to make me into something I wasn’t. I see now that I’ll never be through with you. I’m done trying to play both sides of the fence.” I pressed the gun against the side of his head.
“Please. I’ll leave you alone. For good. I swear. Don’t you understand this was just business?”
Sal’s red face and shaky voice gave me a feeling different from anything I’d ever experienced. I felt incredibly powerful. Never again would I let him push me around.
“Don’t become monsters like them,” he urged as he closed his eyes.
“They’re not monsters. They’re my family,” I said as I pulled the trigger. “And nobody messes with my family—or our family business.”
For a few seconds, I just stood there, a changed man with a smoking gun in his hand. I had done the one thing I was determined never to do. I’d killed a man in cold blood, becoming a murderer just like my father.
I turned away from Sal’s lifeless body and walked out of the room. The three men were still there, now joined by LC.
“Is Mariah okay?” I asked, unable to bring myself to look at him.
“Yes,” my father-in-law replied. “She’s fine.”
“And London?”
“She’s fine also.”
I nodded, thankful that my family was safe, but unable to say anything else. I think part of me was still back in that room with the man I’d just murdered.
For LC, though, this bloody business was nothing new. He continued on like it was just another day at the office. “I have someone I want you to meet, Harris.”
He turned toward the older, white-haired man. “Johnny Mazz, this is Harris Grant. Harris, Johnny is a very dear friend and business partner. He also represents the Commission.”
From the first time he sought me out in college, Sal had spoken about the five Mafia families of New York and the Commission that ran them. I could always tell that he admired those families and aspired one day for his family to hold a seat on the Commission. And now I was meeting someone from the Commission mere minutes after shooting the man who’d told me about its very existence.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to formally introduce myself,” Mazz said in a heavy Brooklyn accent, “but I’m sure you understand. We all needed to focus on the task at hand.”
I nodded but said nothing. I was too busy trying to make sense of this scene. Here was my father-in-law, proudly introducing this Mafioso, who didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the fact that I’d just killed a made Italian man.
“The Commission is in your debt for removing such a worthless piece of shit like Sal from the earth.” Mazz offered me his hand and I took it tentatively.
“I don’t understand. You wanted him dead? I thought he was one of your people.”
“Sure, he was Italian, but Sal’s family wasn’t a voting member of the Commission. They were warned specifically not to interfere with LC’s business.”
So, LC had the protection of the Mafia, and he was apparently very friendly with a high-ranking member. I was the family lawyer, but obviously there were some things LC still saw fit to hide from me.
LC continued the explanation where Mazz had left off. “That’s why Sal was trying to manipulate us and the Mexicans. If he could get us to kill each other off, then the Commission couldn’t say shit if he moved in on our territory. And because of the amount of money he’d make, the five families would have no choice but to give him a seat at the table.”
“But LC brought this to our attention, and thanks to your help, we no longer have that problem.” He reached out his hand again, and this time I shook it with more confidence.
Mazz said, “By the way, your father was a good friend and a good man.”
“That he was,” LC echoed.
“You knew about my father?” I asked, turning my attention to LC.
“Sure did. Did you think I was going to let you marry London and not know every minute detail about you? It wasn’t until I found out you were his son that I was convinced you had the right stuff to marry a Duncan.”
I shook my head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. My old man was a scumbag.”
“No, your father was a good man,” Johnny explained. “It was Sal who was the scumbag. That’s why we had him killed. I know you want to get to your daughter right now, but when you have a chance, I’ll tell you all about your father.”
I looked back at the door, behind which lay Sal’s corpse.
Good riddance, you son of a bitch. I guess the next time we meet will be in hell.
Epilogue: Orlando
The backyard of our compound was packed with more than two hundred people helping to celebrate Mariah’s birthday. I was standing near the doorway to the main house with Pop, observing the festivities as we shared a couple of cold ones.
It was a little over three months since the war with Alejandro had ended, and our family had just begun to recover. Pop was still uneasy having all these people at our house, despite the fact we had more security than the President of the United States, and the guests were all confined to the backyard. It was his opinion that our recent battles with Sal Dash and Alejandro had exposed us in ways we weren’t prepared for and that most of our family couldn’t comprehend. Although we’d come out on top, Pop reminded me constantly that Vinnie Dash’s whereabouts were still unknown. He was also concerned that once the shock of Miguel’s death wore off, Alejandro might reignite the war between us. What concerned him the most was that we could never be sure if the violent nature of Uncle Lou’s death and Mariah’s kidnapping had drawn the attention of law enforcement. Truth is, only time would tell, and that made the old man very uncomfortable.
“You know we have a lot of rebuilding to do,” Pop commented with a bit of weariness apparent in his tone. “Sooner or later someone is gonna come gunning for us.”
“So I take it you don’t plan on going to Florida anymore?” I asked.
“If you don’t mind me sticking around, I kinda want to see how things play out. You’ve turned into quite a man, son, but these are trying times, and there are still some things you’re going to need to learn. I’d like to stick around and teach them to you.”
The fact that he wanted to stay didn’t surprise me. What did surprise me was that he still planned to hand things over to me someday. I had expected him to announce some changes that included removing me from my spot at the top.
“I can’t think of anyone I’d rather learn from, Pop.”
He nodded, raising his beer. “To the family.”
I joined his toast, sipping my beer as I looked out at the crowd and thought about the work that lay ahead.
We still needed to appoint four lieutenants to replace Pablo and Uncle Lou and to cover the slice of Dash’s territory the Commission had given us. We also needed to get on steady footing with a major distributor from areas beyond the U.S. Until we had a new pipeline, we were vulnerable. What good were we to the Commission or anyone else if we didn’t have the quality product they desired?
“Maybe we should go in the house and talk this thing out.”
“Pop, Dash is gone, and we’ve got a meeting with your man Lee on Monday about distribution. For at least one day, can you savor the moment and think positive thoughts? Relax and enjoy your granddaughter’s birthday party,” I requested of my father.
“You’re right.” He looked over at Mariah and London with a smile. Harris was taking pictures of them in silly poses, showing off their catlike faces, courtesy of the face painter we’d hired for the party.
Just watching them interact made me think of Ruby and the fact that she was carrying our unborn child. I hadn’t seen her since she disappeared from the protective custody of my men three months ago, and I really missed her. I had hired several private investigators to find her, without any luck.
“Look at them, son. After all that’s happened, who would’ve thought they’d come together like this as a family? I guess the baby helped.... I still can’t believe London’s pregnant again.”
“I just hope its Harris’s baby,” I replied. “Because if that baby comes out with blue eyes and straight hair, we’re all gonna have to restrain Mr. Harris Grant from committing his second murder and killing your daughter.”
“Didn’t you just tell me to think positive thoughts?” LC shook his head, but I’m sure he was a lot more concerned about the parentage of his unborn grandchild than he wanted to admit. “Come on. Rio and Paris are finally here. Let’s take that family picture your mother wanted.”
We headed over toward my mother, who was handing out plates for the buffet.
“What about Junior?” I asked. “Aren’t we gonna wait for him?”
“No, your mother has him running some errand. He probably won’t be back until tonight.”
I peeked over at the old man, but he purposely avoided making eye contact. We both knew Junior would never miss Mariah’s party unless it was something important, and a simple errand wasn’t that important. My father was hiding something.
“Pop, is there something I should know?”
LC stopped abruptly, just far enough away so my mother couldn’t hear him. “Leave it alone, son. You know how she can get when she’s on a mission.”