The Legacy of the Assassin

by Tony Bertot

  It took a few seconds for the impact of what Sheila said to sink in. "What!" the captain almost shouted. "Are you sure?" he asked them both.

  "Yes sir. We double-checked and then triple-checked. Detective Tyler Santiago was raised by his uncle George, who happens to be the brother of Sylvia Santiago," Sam finished.

  "Holy crap," commented Captain Connolly, who was now standing and holding his hand to his forehead.

  Seeing the captain's reaction and the look on his face, Sheila spoke up, "Captain, based on all we have found we don't think Detective Santiago knew who his father was. He didn't know this guy was his own flesh and blood."

  "Are you shitting me? How in heaven’s name can you sit there and tell me that with a straight face?" the captain asked her, almost shouting.

  "Captain, Detective Santiago never saw his father. His mother brought him here when he was very young, and until her death, she was the only listed parent. As far as we can tell, Tyler never laid eyes on him again ... till now."

  Sheila went on to explain, "Captain, I know this from personal experience. When Tyler, I mean Detective Santiago, and I were in hiding with the judge in Pennsylvania, we got to talking and he told me he had a vague memory of his father. He was very young when his father went away, and he never saw him again. When I asked what happened, Tyler said his mom told him that his father had to go away and may never come back,"

  The captain stared at both of them as if in a trance, while shaking his head back and forth."I hope your attachment to Detective Santiago is not clouding your judgment," the captain said, directing his comment at Sheila. "This is too freaking weird," he added."Who else knows about this?"

  "No one, sir," they both responded.

  "No one can know about this until we straighten it out. You understand?" the captain told them while pointing his finger at their faces.

  "Yes, sir, we understand!" Sam responded as both he and Sheila nodded their heads.

  "You two need to understand, we are dealing with the Giordano family who has ties everywhere. Who's to say Detective Santiago was not planted here?" the captain raised his voice. "And now you tell me the man Detective Santiago shot, the man who fell into the East River, was his own father, whose body, by the way, has not been found."

  There was a short pause as all three contemplated the gravity of the situation.

  "Where is Detective Santiago now?" the captain asked in a calm voice.

  "We don't know. What we do know is that he quit the force a few months back, sir," Sam responded.

  "Well, find him and bring him back here. I would like a word with him," the captain ordered. "Also find this Nick Costello. Let's see what he knows about all this," the captain added.

  "Sir, we've tried to locate the whereabouts of Mr. Nick Costello and have come up empty. After leaving the service he simply disappeared." Sheila stated.

  "Then dig deeper. A man does not simply disappear. Somebody out there knows," the captain demanded.

  Great to be Free

  Wisconsin Penitentiary/October 1984

  Joey Escalla, along with a black man, stood inside a holding cell while their release papers were being processed.

  "What were you in for?" the stranger asked Joey.

  Joey ignored the man and said nothing.

  "Hey man, I'm talking to you!" the man yelled Joey.

  Joey stared at the man, smiled and turned his back on him, then moved to the corner of the cell, ignoring the man all together. Twenty two years of silence and secrecy taught him how to stare people down without saying a word. With a population of over eight thousand inmates, the Wisconsin Correctional Facility was a magnet for rumors and gossip.

  10 Months Ago

  For the last twenty one years, there were many rumors about prisoner number 685244 in cellblock 432. Some said he was a spy, others claimed they knew him as the head of a Chicago crime family, and still others said he was a pedophile and was isolated for his own protection. The prisoner kept to himself and almost never spoke to anyone. For more than twenty years, he kept his identity secret from the rest of the population. It was not until a new warden took over the facility that things changed. The new warden immediately felt that all prisoners, no matter the crime, were to be treated with respect and dignity, and not just numbers. And so, prisoner number 685244 was now to be called by his proper name; Joey Escalla.

  This bit of information spread through the prison population like a brush fire on a dry windy day, and caught the curiosity of an inmate known as Stan (Slash) Genova. Genova had been a member of the Sabrisio family before it was wiped out in the early 60's by what was later rumored to be members of the Giordano Family. What was even more important was the fact that the Joey Escalla who Slash knew, was rubbed out over twenty-one years ago.

  Having information about a guy who was supposed to be dead was like gold in a place like this, but first Slash had to be certain. He had to get a look at the prisoner in cell 432.

  Over the next four months, Slash concentrated on pulling library duty. He managed to transfer over to the library, and three months after that he managed to get onto the book dispensary detail. Another month passed before he was able to change with a fellow inmate and get to distribute books to those in solitary confinement.

  In late April of 1984, Slash was making his rounds in solitary when he came upon cell number 432.

  "You want anything to read?" he asked the man in the cell.

  Joey Escalla approached the cell door and looked at the books in the cart.

  Slash stared at the man on the other side of the bar and thought to himself, "I know this man. His name is not Joey Escalla. I just don’t remember his real name. But it isn’t Joey Escalla."

  Joey looked up at the man and said nothing.

  After a few seconds, Joey finally said, "No, not interested in any of your books."

  Joey returned to his bunk and lay down. Slash stared for a second or two before moving on.

  Joey recognized the man.

  So after serving over 21 years of his 22-year sentence, he was faced with a problem that might jeopardize his release.

  "Can’t have that," Joey thought to himself.

  Slash was now consumed with trying to remember the identity of the prisoner in cell 432. He was convinced he knew him but needed to get another look. However, every time he went by the cell, Joey kept his back to him and would respond with a "No, thanks." With Joey not approaching the front of the cell, Slash was denied the opportunity to see him once more.

  Joey knew it was simply a matter of time. If Slash found out Joey’s release date was fast approaching, he might escalate his attempts to uncover the truth.

  It was two weeks later when Slash was stacking books in the library that three inmates approached him.

  "Hey, Slash. What you in for?" asked one of the men.

  "What’s it to you?" Slash responded as he turned and faced them. "What you guys want?" Slash asked.

  "Nothing. We just want to know what you are in for," another man said.

  "None of your fucking business," Slash answered back.

  "Rumor is, you go after young girls," the inmate stated.

  "That’s bullshit. I don’t do that shit. Someone's feeding you guys a bunch of lies," Slash defended.

  "Now why would someone do that?" asked the tallest of the three men.

  "Yeah, then what you in for?" they asked again.

  "Tax evasion," Slash responded.

  "Tax evasion," one of the prisoners stated almost laughing.

  "Yeah, tax evasion," Slash answered back making a strong stand.

  Slash had been around long enough to know he had to convince them he was no child molester, or it would simply be a matter of time before someone slashed his throat, or he got shanked in his sleep.

  "Someone is feeding you bullshit. You want a piece of me? Bring it on," Slash challenged, bracing himself.

  Just then, a couple of the guards came into the library. The men stared at Slash and nodded
slowly backing off.

  "We find out different and your time here is going to come to an abrupt end," one of the inmates told him as they walked away.

  Slash knew he had bought some time.

  However, two days later three men jumped him in the shower. They had beaten him severely and made sure he knew they would be coming after him again; if he lived through this one. Slash knew, as the guards carried him to the infirmary, that next time he might not be so lucky.

  One month and thirty two stitches later he was released from the infirmary. Though the Warden had offered Slash protection in exchange for information on who did this, Slash refused to comment and was sent back to the general population.

  Slash knew he had to get to the source of the rumors before someone took it upon himself to finish the job once and for all. As a result, Slash became paranoid about anyone coming too close to him, so he kept to himself as much as possible.

  In every prison you have those who belong to a gang or are protected by a gang, those who keep their heads low and avoid any eye contact. Slash had been marked and needed protection; no one protects a child molester. He had to convince the gang lords he was no child molester, and he needed to find out who started the rumor.

  After considering all of his options, he decided to approach the leader of the black gang. Italians were in the minority here, so he had to either approach the Hispanics, or go to the folks of a darker persuasion. In any case, he had to make peace before someone killed him. Luckily he happened to know one of the black gang members; someone he had met during some drug negotiations back in Chicago. Though reluctant, the guy vouched for Slash, and he was given a chance to talk to their leader. After some hard talking and an agreement to pay in cigarettes, Slash received protection until the issue was settled.

  Word went out he was no child molester and would pay to find out who started the rumor. It would be almost six weeks before the information got to him that it had started in solitary.

  Slash instantly knew it had to come from the prisoner in cell 432.

  "Well. The guy is running scared," thought Slash. "Guess I'm going to have to visit him once more and give him the news."

  It would be another three weeks before Slash got the opportunity to visit solitary again.

  Approaching cell 432 he called out, "Hey, you want any books to read?"

  "Yeah, sure, what you got?" asked the prisoner as he approached the cell door.

  It was not Joey Escalla.

  Slash was shocked. Joey Escalla was no longer in that cell. The prisoner now occupying the cell only knew the previous prisoner had been transferred to another cell but didn't know where.

  Slash smiled to himself knowing full well it was simply a matter of time before he would find out where the guy going by the name of Joey Escalla was moved to, and time was all they had.

  Using the vehicle of gossip and rumors, Joey was able to spread the word that the man known to all as Slash had raped a young child and had gotten away with it. He knew this would buy him some time and maybe eliminate the threat altogether. Joey was pleased when he found out that Slash had been attacked. Unfortunately, he had not been killed, forcing Joey to come up with another plan to avoid any future encounters with Slash. Since he had been a model prisoner, the warden was cooperative in allowing Joey to move out of solitary confinement for the remainder of his stay; now only several weeks away. As long as Slash did not get wind of his release date, he would be ok.

  However, that was not the case. A month before Joey was scheduled to be released, Slash discovered where he had been moved and quickly took steps to get close to him.

  Pushing his wagon filled with books, Slash came alongside Joey's cell. "Hey, Joey, you want any books?" Slash asked as he stared at the man in the cell.

  Joey got up and walked over to the cell door. "Sure. Do you have the book, Dead Men Tell No Tales?” Joey asked in a whisper, barely audible, while staring into his eyes.

  Slash's confidence began to wither as he realized this man was not backing down now, with his menacing stare revealing his demonic intent.

  "Who... Who's the book by?" asked Slash.

  "I believe it was written by Frank Sabrisio," replied Joey, again whispering. "You ever heard of him?" Joey asked Slash in a very low voice.

  Now backing up slightly from the cell door, Slash responded with, "I... I don't believe I have."

  "Oh, pity. I am sure you would enjoy it. Especially at night, when you are all alone. By the way, I have some real good friends living in Chicago in the Chinatown district. Isn't that where your mother lives?" Joey asked, once again in a very low voice so that no one else could overhear what he was saying. "Have a good day, Mr. Genova," Joey said as he stared at Slash and smiled.

  Slash stared back as a chill ran through his body. This son of a bitch just threatened his mother.

  Slash moved closer to the cell, and in a controlled voice said, "You listen up you fucking bastard. I don't know what your shit is, but nobody threatens my family. Your days here are now numbered," he told Joey.

  Joey stared back at Slash, smiled, and once more approached Slash."Well then if you are man enough to come after me, I look forward to it. And when I am done with you, I will make sure my friends pay your mother, your sister, Brenda, and your daughter, Eileen, my respects," Joey told Slash in a cold and calmed voice.

  Slash hesitated as he suddenly realized who this man was. Like a wave rushing to shore it all came back to him now.

  There was another rumor about how the Sabrisio family became extinct, and it involved the man at whom he was now staring. Slash's blood ran cold, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Only now did he realize the danger he had put himself and his family in.

  "I'm sorry, mister... I... I didn't mean anything. I... I wasn't thinking." Slash told Joey, now stuttering some.

  "Have a good day," Joey told him as he turned his back on Slash, going deeper into his cell.

  "You won't be getting any static from me, sir," Slash told Joey with a shaking voice as he quickly pushed his cart along.

  Present Day

  The black man stared at Joey and mumbled something about not giving a shit and went to the opposite corner.

  Joey stared out beyond the bars separating him from freedom, wondering if he would ever get to the other side. Suddenly, a guard approached his cell. "Escalla!" he shouted out.

  "Yeah," Joey responded.

  The guard opened the cell and led Joey out. "Come with me," the guard told him as he handed him a couple of papers. This came easy for Joey after twenty plus years of being told what to do and what not to do.

  The two men walked along a narrow corridor which ended at a closed solid gate. The guard motioned to a camera staring down at them from the upper right corner of the wall. The gate cranked open with a clanking noise. Both men walked through the opening. A man at a desk reached for the papers Joey was carrying.

  "Joey Escalla?" he asked.

  "Yeah," Joey replied.

  "Sign here," the man said pointing to where Joey was to put his signature. Joey signed and stepped back.

  The guard turned to Joey and grabbed the handcuffs that bound him and unlocked them. "Looks like you are a free man," the guard said nodding toward the outside. Joey stared at him and then approached the front door where another guard stood. As Joey embraced the freedom awaiting him, the guard opened the door and Joey stepped through.

  "Hey, Escalla," Joey heard someone yell.

  Joey turned and saw another guard approaching him with a bag. "Don’t you want your stuff?" he asked Joey.

  "Yeah, sure," Joey responded as he grabbed the bag. He looked in the bag and all he found was some old clothes and a wallet. The wallet contained a driver’s license and a social security card with the name Joey Escalla on it. There was nothing else in the bag. Joey turned and continued his trek toward the door that was now being held opened by the other guard.

  "Good luck, Joey," he heard someone say. Joey did not turn
and simply kept walking.

  Once past the doors he looked around and found himself on the other side of the fence that surrounded the penitentiary. He didn't remember coming in this way, so it was a surprise to him.

  "Guess things change after twenty two years," Joey thought to himself. A short distance away, he saw a bus stop and headed toward it.

  Joey Escalla was finally a free man. When he first made his deal with the feds he figured he would be out in just a few years, never thinking they were going to slap him with homicide, resulting in his spending over twenty two years in the slammer.

  "Wonder what Theo has been up to?" he wondered.

  Joey faked his death because he knew Theo would be watching, and once Theo thought he was dead he would move on and get out of town. Theo had saved his life on several occasions and he owed him that much.

  "Just didn't know it was going to last twenty plus years. But hell, such is life and now I am free once again. Twenty two years older, but free nonetheless," Joey thought to himself while all the time smiling.

  So as this life ended for Joey Escalla, a new life began for the man known by his few friends as Nick Costello.

  OCTF Alert

  New York/October 25, 1984

  The FBI, working with the local police and several other government agencies had started inputting the data from their paper records into computers. During that process, they discovered that a Joey Escalla, listed as dead, was also in the witness protection database. This same Joey Escalla entered the witness protection program because he provided the FBI with information that could have easily led to his mob style execution; at least that was what the FBI believed. He claimed that Nick Costello was the man responsible for the execution of the Sabrisio brothers and he feared for his life. As a result, he asked that they fake his death and put him under witness protection, and in exchange he would provide them with valuable information about the Sabrisio and Giovanna families. Instead of life in prison, he got 22 years at a Wisconsin Federal penitentiary for his involvement with these crime families. Joey asked that they keep his identity secret and that he serve his time away from the general prison population. As a protective measure, and in cooperation with the FBI and the staff of the Florida hospital where he had been admitted with gunshot wounds, Joey faked his death. It was the FBI's understanding that he received the wounds at the Sabrisio home when it came under attack by Nick Costello and other members of his gang.