by Brent Coffey
As he wiped his feet on the doormat inside his home, he heard laughter. Two people laughing. And one of them sounded young. He walked towards the sound of the laughter coming from the kitchen and was startled to find Martha and August assembling a puzzle on the kitchen table with plates of cookies and milk. August was trying to fit the wrong puzzle piece into one of the puzzle’s holes, and he and Martha laughed at his many attempts of twisting and turning the piece in different directions.
“What the hell is going on here?” Bruce demanded.
“I’ll thank you not to curse in front of a guest,” Martha scolded him.
Bruce and August locked eyes, and Bruce noticed that the kid didn’t look as shy or as timid as he had when they’d first met.
“We need to talk,” Martha began. “Pull up a chair.”
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Shortly after dropping August safely off at the Hudsons’ home (and before Bruce, Richard, and many cops had wasted their afternoon in Boston Common waiting for a mobster who’d stood them up like a blind date gone wrong), Gabe called Sara Madison on his way to Victor’s office.
“This is Sara.”
“I don’t believe we’ve ever spoken. I’m Gabriel Adelaide.”
Sara’s heart nearly slowed to a complete halt, before blasting off at rocket speed.
“How did you get this number?”
“That’s a stupid question to ask a mobster. You need to know that I just dropped off August Middleton at the Hudsons’ home. He’s now with them.”
“Dropped him off?”
“Yeah, you know. Drove him over there. Opened the door. Let him out. That sorta thing.”
Gabe assumed Sara knew that August had been with him for the past several weeks. He thought that by now Bruce would’ve told her, if one of the shit stain Ringers hadn’t already clued her in.
“You took August from the Ringers’ home?” Sara asked incredulously.
Gabe pulled his cell away from his ear and looked at it in disbelief.
“Of course I took August from the Ringers. How did you not know that? You’re his social worker for God’s sake. I even told Hudson that I had August, and that was several days ago.”
She didn’t know how much of this she believed. If August had really been kidnapped, why hadn’t Gina called her? And if Bruce knew, why hadn’t he called her?
“Look,” Gabe continued, “I don’t have time to bring you up to speed. You can chat about this with someone else at a later date. The important thing is August needs to stay with the Hudsons. I know they aren’t foster parents, but he needs to stay with them anyway. He won’t be safe anywhere else right now. Don Filippo and his guys have been looking for me, and they may have seen August with me. If they saw us together, they might’ve mistaken him for my son, and that’s makes him their enemy. Is any of this making sense?”
She felt her disbelief give way to anger, mainly for having been left out of the loop of August’s whereabouts.
“How can you seriously ask me that?” she yelled. “No, it doesn’t make sense! It doesn’t make any sense at all. If August really is with the Hudsons, then I’m taking him out of there and putting him in a licensed foster home immediately.”
“And if you do that, you’re putting his life at risk. He needs to stay with the D.A. The Filippos don’t want to mess with the D.A. If they mess with the D.A., the press starts talking. When the press starts talking, the public starts talking. When the public starts talking, the politicians start talking. It ends up with the Filippos having cops breathing down their necks, and that’s the last thing they want. They don’t want a high profile killing on their hands. As long as August is with the D.A., he’s safe. You’ve got to be reasonable.”
“Don’t tell me to be reasonable after you kidnapped a child!”
“I did it because the Ringers treated him like shit.”
Part of Sara believed Gabe. She’d noticed that Gina was never affectionate with August. She’d also noticed that Bill acted like the kid didn’t even exist. Still, she thought. Am I really going to believe a mobster? She forced a counterargument to test Gabe’s sincerity:
“If you had kidnapped him, the Ringers would have told me.”
“That’s just it though. The Ringers didn’t tell you. They didn’t tell you, because I paid them off. They cared more about my money than they did about August. Go to the Hudsons’ home and see August for yourself. Then call Gina Ringer and ask her where August is. She’ll lie to you. She’ll tell you he’s with her. If that doesn’t prove she’s a liar, and one who doesn’t give two shits about August, then I don’t know what does.”
She couldn’t argue with his logic. If Gabe had dropped August off at the Hudsons’ place, then she could visually confirm that. She could also call Gina to see if Gina would admit that August wasn’t with her. But why is he making this easy for me? Unless… unless he’s telling the truth, and August really is in danger.
“Even if August is with the Hudsons,” she said, “that doesn’t mean he can stay there. He’s got to be with foster parents.”
“Even if it means he’s no longer protected by the D.A.? Even if it means you’re killing him?”
She swallowed a rising knot in her throat:
“I didn’t say all that. I just said he has to be with foster parents.”
“Then, by God, make the Hudsons foster parents!”
She contemplated this. She might be able to find a quick loophole and authorize their home, if this was an emergency situation. As she considered making the Hudsons foster parents, both her trashed condo and the money she’d discovered in her purse came to mind.
“If you want me to work with you, then I need some answers,” she said.
“Fair enough.”
“Who broke into my condo? Bruce Hudson says it was you.”
“It was me. Basically. I had an associate do it.”
She considered this:
“How do I know you aren’t lying?”
“Because I know your wall said, ‘Give August to the Hudsons.’ And I also know you found your stolen purse loaded with wads of cash and a note at the bottom that said, ‘Give August to the Hudsons.’”
She was stunned. Holy shit! He’s telling the truth. He’s the one who’s been messing with me all along. It was never Bruce.
“So… why? Why do you care about what happens to August? Why is it such a big deal to you that August live with the Hudsons? In fact, why do you even care that he’s in danger now? What does a kid matter to you? You’re a career criminal… you’re…” (she hesitated, slowly working up the gumption to say it) “… you’re an asshole. What could you possibly care about who August lives with?”
“Because before I was a career criminal and before I was an asshole, I was a kid too. And that part of me cares about who August lives with. And that part of me cares about August staying alive. That’s the best explanation I’ve got. Take it or leave it. But, listen, this isn’t about me. It’s about August. Go to the Hudsons. Confirm he’s there: confirm he’s safe. Then call Gina Ringer and listen as she lies to you about having August in her home. That’ll tell you everything you need to know about why I took him from the Ringers. And talk to Bruce. He knows how dangerous the Filippos are. You’ve got to keep August with the D.A. He’s safe there.”
She was out of counterarguments.
“I’m on my way to the Hudsons,” she said, reaching for the car keys on her living room coffee table.
“Promise me that you’ll keep him there.”
“I’ll do what I can.”
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Gabe arrived at Victor’s office right on time, just before 5. He’d put his mind to ease that August was temporarily safe, and he was ready to receive Victor’s negotiating terms for bargaining with the Filippos. Gabe pulled into the parking lot, discreetly located behind the building’s office, and he saw Unique pulling up in his van. He didn’t wait for
Unique to finish parking. He had no interest in walking alongside him and forcing conversation.
Once inside, Victor’s secretary immediately led him to Victor’s office and knocked on the door to announce his arrival. As Gabe was situating himself in one of two chairs facing Victor’s desk, the secretary knocked on Victor’s office door again to show Unique in. When they were both seated, Victor wasted no time in getting down to brass tacks:
“We got two hours before you guys meet with Donatello Filippo, so this meeting is going to be precise, efficient, and quick. If you got concerns, I don’t care. I’m not interested in your concerns. I’ve provided you both with a list of terms that I’m demanding, not asking, but demanding from Filippo, and you aren’t to compromise on a damn one of them!” Victor slammed his left hand on his desk to emphasize his prohibition against compromising.
Gabe and Unique sat silently reading their own copies of Victor’s demands: a set of specific streets that only Adelaide dealers and whores could operate on, a demand that all Filippos and their associates stay out of Boston’s citywide elections, and collateral in the form of $5 million which would be returned to the Filippos in five years if they kept the previous two rules. Victor secretly figured that monopolizing Boston’s growing drug and whore markets would allow him to bide enough time to build up the muscle necessary to keep the collateral.
Gabe didn’t like what he was reading. The Filippos would probably agree to concede many of the streets in Boston’s red-light district, and they might even agree not to influence the city’s political landscape, but, he knew for certain, there was no way in hell they were going to fork over $5 million in collateral in hopes of having it returned. He knew the promise to return the money was bullshit, and he knew the Filippos would rightly conclude the same. This proposal would likely be rejected entirely.
Unique was more vocal in his assessment of Victor’s demands:
“You’re sending us to our deaths.”
“The fuck did you just say?” Victor seethed.
“You heard what I just said. The Filippos aren’t going to give you a dime, and, if we ask for it, they’ll kill us on the spot. Your demands are unreasonable, the negotiations will break down, and they have nothing left to lose by declaring war on the Family. And we’ll be the first two casualties.”
“I have security against that happening.”
“If you’re referring to your recorded phone call with the D.A., big fucking deal.” (The splicer had bragged about his recent job to Unique.) “It would be cheaper and safer for them to fight a prosecution from the D.A.’s office than to hand you this much cash. They’ll never agree to these terms, and we’re dead men if we ask for them.”
Victor’s neck veins bulged and pulsed, as his fury increased at Unique’s insubordination. It was the first time Unique had ever challenged him.
Gabe sensed the showdown that was occurring and further sensed an opportunity for his personal interests. He interjected:
“If we’re going to get what you want from the Filippos, then the cost of not working with us has to be greater than $5 million. That’s going to require that we get the D.A. in Watertown on board too. First, though, as a matter of security, we should shore up Hudson’s support. I can stop by St. Knox’s tonight and pay the rest of the cash needed for his surgery.”
Victor’s wrath lessened when Gabe seemed to side with him. He wanted Unique to feel the pressure of being the odd guy out, and he was quick to agree with Gabe’s plan to pay the rest of the money tonight for Bruce’s surgery:
“Sounds good, son. Drop by St. Knox’s and finish paying for the D.A.’s surgery. You can enter through the personnel’s entrance in the back. My security will let you in.”
Victor’s hospital security mostly consisted of underpaid techs and nurses who were bribed to work for the Family. The doctors at St. Knox’s who were on the Adelaide payroll treated wounded associates injured in street fights and missions. Gabe knew he’d have no problem getting in the hospital’s back entrance. The place was a hotbed of mob activity.
“I’m telling you this won’t work!” Unique loudly persisted. “You and your boy can jack each other’s egos dry over how great this plan is, but we’re both going to get killed for this.”
Gabe suspected Unique was right. Victor was blinded by ambition, and Victor’s list of demands probably would get him killed tonight, which is why he wanted to pay for Bruce’s operation immediately. If the last thing he did was ensure that Bruce was healthy enough to adopt August… he couldn’t think of a better way to go. He was certain he’d never see August again, so going legit no longer mattered and he didn’t want to be part of this underworld any longer. Death seemed like a welcomed exit plan. He just needed to make sure August would be okay, that he’d have a permanent home with the Hudsons. And that meant going to St. Knox’s one more time.
“You need to drop the demand for collateral!” Unique railed. “You also need to scale back the number of streets you’re asking for, or at least be willing to split some of them in half.”
Victor spat out hot words of fury:
“Maybe you didn’t understand my initial remarks, Mr. Unique. When I said I didn’t care about any concerns from the two of you, I also meant that I didn’t care about any comments from the two of you. Shut the fuck up, you insolent dumbfuck, and do what I fucking say!”
What happened next was a matter of lightning quick reflexes and pure instinct on everyone’s part. Unique’s left hand, which was conveniently hidden underneath the list of Victor’s demands, raced towards his left pants pocket for his snub nosed .38 Special. Gabe, knowing what would happen when Victor cussed Unique, kicked his right foot against Unique’s left hand to prevent him from retrieving his revolver, and Gabe pulled out one of his full auto Glocks. With a foot pinning Unique’s hand inside his pocket, Gabe squeezed the Glock’s trigger and unloaded an angry line of rapid fire hollow points. The gun, aimed at point-blank range at Unique’s head, bucked up and down, as Gabe’s grip tightened to manage the recoil. The first three bullets hit Unique’s right jaw and lower check. But as recoil drove the gun up, Gabe put the next seven rounds in the left side of Unique’s temple and upper skull, before putting the clips’ final rounds into an office wall. When the gun went quiet, Unique’s body slumped over the right side of his chair.
Gabe held the smoking pistol for several minutes, frozen with the shock of it all. He hadn’t planned on killing Unique. It had been a reaction and nothing more. He lowered his pistol, looked away from the body, and faced Victor. Victor’s face wore the same shock and awe that Gabe’s did. Neither spoke, and their nerves stayed on high alert.
The phone rang, and Victor forced himself to answer:
“Everything’s fine.”
Victor hung up, without offering his security detail an explanation for the gunfire.
“Looks like you’ll be meeting Donatello Filippo alone,” Victor finally said.
“Looks like it.”
“We need a drink.”
Victor poured them both a scotch. Neither spoke as they drank. The shock hadn’t subsided. It wasn’t the act of killing that unsettled them. Both of them had killed before. It was thinking about Unique that disturbed them. Each of them quietly remembered him in different ways. Victor remembered the many missions he’d completed for the Family. Gabe recalled the terror he’d felt as a kid from Unique’s stares and the strange way he began to resemble Unique in his teen years. Victor poured them another round, then a third. Fifteen minutes later, the alcohol made a confession out of an empty stomach.
“I always knew you really were my boy,” Victor gloated.
Gabe didn’t get the reference, and his face showed it.
“You just put your old man out of commission. That really does make you my son.”
“Old man?”
“God, you never figured it out? You never noticed the resemblance? Well, I suppose there’s not much of a resemblance now, not after you turned his face into mas
hed potatoes.”
“Resemblance?” Gabe asked, surprised someone else had noticed that he looked like Unique.
“Yeah, the resemblance. You resemble your old man. Or you did before you shot him up.”
Gabe forced a response:
“I have no idea why you’re calling him my old man. If you’re talking about the fact that we look alike, I already knew that.”
“I’m calling him your old man because that’s who he is, and that’s why you look like him.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’ve had too much booze to lie. Your father would’ve worked for you when you inherited the business, if you hadn’t killed him just now.”
Gabe’s mind raced back to what few memories he still had of his mother. Her name’s Debby Fallon. She, she… wanted to go somewhere… far away… to teach… and she was going to take me with her. That’s all the distant past would let him remember. Everything else was buried in the sands of time.
“I… I don’t remember anyone… or my mom… telling me about him,” Gabe said, confused, frustrated.
“Of course she didn’t mention him. She didn’t know his name.”
Victor’s third scotch blinded him to the anger mounting on Gabe’s face.
“You’re saying my mother was a whore? That’s why she didn’t know my father’s name?”
“No. I’m saying your mother was knocked up rough-and-tumble style. She never saw it coming, and Unique didn’t bother leaving his autograph. That’s why she didn’t know his name.”
Gabe wanted to doubt what he heard, but he couldn’t. Victor was serious. And the resemblance.
“How do you know this?” Gabe demanded.
“Cause I’m the one who told the fucker to do it. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me. You’re welcome,” Victor laughed, and, with an inebriated grin, he raised his glass in a toast to his brilliant contribution.