by Tony Bertot
"May I ask you a question," David ventured.
"Sure, what is it?" Tyler responded.
"Was Mr. Ferrari your father?" David asked him.
Tyler hesitated. He was hit by the sudden realization that Jack Ferrari and Theo Gresco may be one and the same. Not wanting to show his hand, Tyler said, "No, but I think he worked for my father. I am going to find out, one way or another."
"For what it's worth, I liked the guy," David said.
Tyler was tempted to tell David that the guy he liked was also a cold blooded killer. "Yeah, I heard the guy was very likeable," Tyler said instead.
They finished their meal and had one more beer before parting ways.
"Mr. Santiago, you got my number so if you need anything, don’t hesitate to call."
"I may just do that," Tyler responded.
Half an hour later, Tyler was back at the house. He had placed the three envelopes and shoebox on the kitchen table, made himself some coffee and sat down. The envelopes were marked one, two, and three; obviously the order in which he was supposed to open them. Taking the first envelope, he grabbed a kitchen knife and slit it open, then poured the items onto the table.
It contained two sheets with numbers on them, several bundles of cash in hundred dollar bills, and a small book containing phone numbers. The envelope also contained a letter to Tyler.
He picked up the letter and started to read;
Tyler Santiago,
If you are reading this letter you can assume that I won't be coming back.
There should be approximately two thousand dollars in cash, two papers containing numbers and this letter. In the other two envelopes you will find some pictures and an address book of friends and contacts. Do what you want with them. In the third envelope there is a list of individuals I owe money to with instructions on how to pay them. You'll find enough money to cover all of the expenses, including any traveling you will have to do. I am sure you can figure out what the list of numbers are.
Good luck to you.
Tyler opened the second envelope and dumped it on the table. He was awe struck when he started to go through the pictures. It was a whole collection of pictures of himself. One showed him getting ice cream from Fat man, in another he was playing baseball with his friends. A more recent one showed him at the academy graduating. There were probably over a hundred pictures of him.
As Tyler shuffled through the pictures, tears began to swell in his eyes. "All this time... You bastard!" Tyler screamed.
Not wanting to know anymore, he walked away from the table and into the bedroom, sat down on the edge of the bed and fell backwards. He lay there for some time, staring up at the ceiling, before falling asleep.
***
The next morning, Tyler went straight to the table and began looking at each picture. Something inside of him had changed. He wanted to know more as he placed each picture in chronological order. When he was done, he figured there were over ninety pictures, and that they ranged from when he was five years old to when he graduated from the academy. There was a gap of about five years, after his mom had been murdered. Examining the pictures before the five year gap, he realized it was either Fat man or Uncle Ted taking the pictures. After that it was someone else; someone who stayed in the shadows. From what he could see, he determined he had not been aware that someone was taking his picture.
Placing the pictures back in the second envelope he opened the third one.
The list of six individuals contained four columns. The first column contained an individual’s name, the second their address, the third a monetary amount and the last a name. The name Nick Costello ran down the fourth column for almost every item listed, except for a few of them where the name listed was either Tim Goldman, or Robert Edwards. It was obvious to Tyler that these were the aliases that Jack Ferrari, a.k.a. Theo Gresco, used when contacting these individuals.
The total amount for the third column was $43,000. There were six stacks of bills with an initial atop each one corresponding to the individual listed. "So now I am a delivery boy for this asshole," Tyler thought to himself.
Tyler put the money and the list back in the third envelope, and turned to look at the two pages containing the list of numbers. At first he couldn't figure out what the numbers corresponded to until he noticed every number either ended with an S or an A. Those ending with an S consisted of eight numbers, while those ending with an A were made up of nine numbers. Also, there were only three numbers with the letter S and fifteen numbers with the letter A.
Tyler grabbed a piece of paper and began to separate the two listings. As he wrote down the numbers he began to understand what they were. Obviously, this guy wanted Tyler to figure it out with little effort. The numbers containing the letter S were the combinations to safes and the other numbers were bank account numbers. "Easy as pie," Tyler thought to himself.
Taking the first S numbers, Tyler walked over to the safe in the closet, and by separating the numbers into twos he tried out the combination. "How much easier can you make this?" he thought to himself as the door to the safe opened. Inside, he found approximately $62,000 in cash. "Man this guy was loaded."
Not taking anything for granted anymore, he examined the safe and found that the shelf was loose. Removing it, he found a hidden compartment in the back requiring a key. Taking the key he found earlier, he opened it and found six small stacks, each containing two credit cards, a passport, driver's license and a social security card. Tyler found himself again, staring at the face of the man he shot and watched fall into the East River. Though they all contained the same picture, the driver's licenses and passports had different names; Jack Ferrari, Robert Edwards, Tim Goldman, Nick Galuchi and a couple of others.
"This was the work of a true artist," Tyler thought as he examined each driver's license and passport. "So now we know," Tyler mused. "My father was all of these people.”
Over the next couple of weeks Tyler was able to match up the account numbers to the different banks associated with the credit cards. Realizing that the individuals on this list were probably not your everyday good citizens, he had made up his mind to pay them as dictated on the list. But first he had decided to take a trip to Chicago.
It was late in October when Tyler, carrying a duffle bag with enough clothes for a week’s stay, found himself stepping into a department store at Midway Airport in Chicago to buy a heavy coat. From there he hailed a cab and headed for the address his aunt had given him. He was hoping there would be a nearby hotel he could check into when he arrived at his destination.
Good Ole Wabash
Chicago/October 1984
Nick Costello walked slowly down Wabash as he took in the sites of his old stomping grounds. The streets were wider now as he made his way north. The building where Theo had lived was still there. Nick passed it and made his way to where the butcher shop once stood. He was very happy to see that it too survived the onslaught of time. The memories of days past rushed through his mind as he entered the old butcher shop, and the smell of fresh meat filled his nostrils. The tables that once lined the right side of the shop were gone, replaced with people in line facing a second counter that now lined the back of the shop where the coffee table once stood. A sign above the second counter still offered free coffee with every sandwich purchased; only now it was poured by those behind the counters.
Nick did not recognize any of the people behind either of the two counters and assumed that the business must have been sold. Though Nick himself had no real ties to any of the previous owners, he felt a tinge of sadness in the notion things did not remain the same and the Randazzos were no longer behind the counter serving patrons.
"Hey, you guys get out the wrong side of bed this morning? C’mon, some of us have got to get to work," someone shouted from the back.
"Oh, shut your trap you old geezer. Next time maybe you'll get here earlier," one of the servers shouted back.
Some of the people laughed at the response. It
was obvious that many of the patrons were regulars by the interaction going back and forth on both sides of the counter.
Just then someone came up behind Nick and said, "Hello, Nick. Thought you were dead," in a low whisper. Nick almost jumped. He turned and found himself staring at Calito Randazzo.
"Follow me," Calito told him. Nick followed Calito as he made his way between the two counters that led to the back of the store.
They ducked into a back office where Calito offered Nick a chair, as he went around a desk and pulled out a bottle of scotch from a bottom drawer. Sitting at the desk he pulled two glasses from a shelf behind him and poured some for himself and Nick. Offering Nick the first glass, he raised the second one and nodded.
"Salute!" Calito said.
"Salute!" Nick responded as he nodded and downed the drink.
It wasn't till Calito re-introduced himself that Nick remembered who he was. "Crap, last time I saw you we were on top of the building with Theo," Nick remembered.
"No, I saw you after you guys returned from the military," Calito reminded him.
"Oh yeah, that's right. Forgot about that," Nick said.
"Nick, rumor was you were dead. That you died in a gun battle over in New Jersey or Chicago," Calito said.
"I did," Nick said.
They both stared at each other for a second before Calito and Nick burst out laughing.
"Hey Calito, what do you know about Theo?" Nick asked him.
"Nothing much. He has simply disappeared. There are strong rumors that he has become an assassin for hire. They call him el gatto nero assassino." Calito said almost excited.
"Black cat assassin?" Nick asked.
"Yeah. He got quite the reputation. We think it was Theo who went after the Giordanos in New York," Calito added.
Nick was not the kind to volunteer any information and sat there quietly while Calito ranted on. "You know old man Giordano was killed back in the early 60s'. His son Fabio and daughter Felicia took over the family business. Rumor is they orchestrated the La Ristorante massacre that wiped out the entire Bolnaldo organization and then some," Calito went on even more excited.
Nick was amused by Calito's knowledge of these events, though he knew firsthand how much of it was true and how much was fabricated through the rumor mill. In prison you hear everything that goes on in the streets, especially when it involves organized crime. It pays to know who is calling the shots; it can be the difference between life and death.
"Guess you must have heard about the attempt on their lives, right? Fabio was shot right outside City Hall, and then during his recovery, an assassin walked right past all these bodyguards, police and FBI agents, and put a bullet into both Fabio’s and Felicia's heads," Calito went on. "Felicia survived the attempt on her life, but she was in a coma for several months. I think it was Theo who went after the Giordanos," Calito repeated.
Nick listened intently as Calito painted a picture of what the news reported, and what the rumors supported, or contradicted about the events. Nick had a problem understanding why Theo would go after the Giordano family since his last recollection was they were running the show and ordering any hits. They did the hiring and the firing. “Must have pissed Theo off”, thought Nick.
Calito could see that Nick was lost in thought and was wondering what he could be thinking. "Hey, Nick you got a place to stay?" Calito asked him.
"Uh...No, not yet. Why, you got any available rooms?" Nick asked.
"Yeah man. Same room you stayed in last time you and Theo visited us," Calito responded. "By the way, where've you been? We haven't heard from you or Theo for over twenty years?" Calito asked him.
"I was overseas. Stayed in the Orient. Just got back yesterday," Nick lied.
"I thought you and Theo were together and that was why he couldn't be caught. No one knew there were two of you," Calito said smiling.
They both sat there quietly for a moment before Nick spoke up. "Why don't you show me the room that is available and we can chat more later on."
"Sure man. Come on, let me show you," Calito said getting up and showing Nick out.
After leaving the store they turned left and went past two buildings before going up the steps.
"Calito, how are your parents?" Nick asked, now remembering that they owned these buildings.
"They're fine. Both Dad and Mom are in their 80's, but doing great. Dad is starting to forget stuff, but all in all he still gets around," Calito said.
"They still live here?" Nick asked.
"Sure do. Top of the stairs and to your right. They been there now over forty years," Calito added.
"Wow. Think they remember me?" Nick asked.
"We shall see, since you'll be joining us for dinner tonight. Is that ok?" Calito asked.
"Sure. Sure. Thanks," Nick said, adding, "It's been a while since I ate a home cooked meal."
Calito made Nick feel at ease. A feeling he had not had for a long time. After showing Nick the available apartment located on the 3rd floor, Calito took his leave.
"No rent until you get settled and get a job," Calito told him. Nick smiled and nodded.
"Thanks! Sounds more than fair," Nick said. "It appears that Calito inherited his father's generosity," thought Nick.
***
As Nick was settling in, Tyler Santiago was standing in front of the butcher shop peering in. He saw the sign about a sandwich and free coffee and ventured in. While waiting, he stood at the corner looking out, watching the people on the streets.
Calito had just passed the front of the window when he glanced up and saw Tyler looking out from his shop. "What the fu…," Calito said as he entered the shop. Tyler turned and looked at him and nodded.
Calito nodded back now realizing he had mistaken Tyler for someone else. "Shit. For a second there I thought I was looking at Theo," Calito said to himself as he continued to stare at the stranger. Making his way to the back of one of the counters, he jumped in to help the others who were filling customers’ orders.
After ordering a pastrami on rye and a coffee, Tyler took the sandwich and made his way outside. Now standing near the doorway, he turned left and headed down the street, taking a bite of his sandwich and a sip of his coffee, as he walked south on Wabash. He stopped at the third building and ascended the stairs. This was the address where his mother had lived. He rang the superintendant and waited. A few seconds later he rang the bell again. All of a sudden he heard the door buzzer go off. He quickly placed the sandwich under his arm, reached for the door and pulled. He was too slow; the door did not open. "Damn!" Tyler said.
He took another bite of his sandwich followed by another sip of coffee. He was about to ring the bell again when he heard a girl's voice. "Hey, you need help?" she asked him as she came up the steps.
She appeared to be in her late 40's, slim with long black hair and captivating eyes. Her smile put Tyler at ease. "Yeah. I rang the bell, but I wasn't fast enough to open the door," he responded.
"Here, let me open it for you," she said as she produced a key. "Who are you here to see?" she asked him.
"The superintendant of the building," he replied.
"Well, that would be my uncle." She said, "Come on in," as she pushed the door open to let Tyler slip in. He felt good as he stepped into the warm hallway.
"It's cold out there," Tyler said.
"Duh...Yeah... It's winter," the girl responded in an almost sarcastic voice. "Why don't you sit on the stairs and finish your coffee and sandwich before going up to see him," she advised.
"Good idea," Tyler said.
"My name is Denise Lazzaro," she said nodding at Tyler.
"I'm Tyler Santiago."
"You live around here, Mr. Santiago?" she asked him.
Tyler stared at her for a second before answering. “No. Flew in this morning from California."
"What do you want to ask my uncle? Maybe I can help you," Denise said.
Tyler, now sitting down on the third step as he finished his sandwi
ch and coffee, looked up at her and smiled. "I doubt it. I was wondering if he would have known my mother. She lived here over thirty years ago," he responded.
"You are right. I wouldn't know. My sister Dianna and I moved here about ten years ago," Denise said.
Finishing his lunch, he stood up and wrapped the paper and coffee cup together, placed it in the bag the butcher shop had provided, and put it in his pocket. Denise watched him as he completed this task and then walked past him ordering him to follow.
"Lead the way," Tyler said as he motioned her with an opened hand.
A few seconds later, Denise was knocking while opening the door to the Randazzo residence. "Hi, everyone. It's me, your favorite niece." She shouted as she entered the warm apartment.
"Dianna, is that you?" a voice called out from somewhere in the back of the apartment.
"Stop that, you know it’s me," shouted Denise. It was obvious to Tyler they were teasing her. Tyler heard a few people laugh as they went further in.
Before him he saw an elderly woman in a wheelchair coming toward them. She seemed pretty adept at moving about. "Denise, how many times have we told you to stop picking up men? She is always doing that, you know," the elderly lady told Tyler with a big grin on her face.
Tyler's face reddened. "Aunt Ana. Stop trying to embarrass me!" Denise retorted. "He wants to ask you a couple of questions," Denise said.
"Who wants to ask us a couple of questions?" a man's voice shouted from the back. It was an elderly gentleman who was now walking at a slow pace toward them. "What do you want? You a cop or a Fed or something?" the man asked Tyler abruptly.
"Uh... No. No, I merely want to know if any of you knew my mother," Tyler responded a little taken aback.
"Benito, hush! You are scaring the young man," Ana scolded her husband, gesturing at him to go away. "Please come in and sit down," Ana said as she led them into the living room.
"You can't just be inviting everyone that knocks on our door to sit down," Benito said aloud.