Anarchy (Alfonzo)

by Frank, S. W.

  Kiki was an attractive, talented and sexy woman. On the temptation meter, she was a seven. Many men might seize the opportunity, after-all, she was willing, vulnerable and horny –but he wasn’t one of them. She was hurting, he understood that and wanted someone to hold, he understood that too –yet even guilt could not persuade him to betray Selange. There wasn’t an iota of internal conflict on the issue.

  As respectfully as possible he detached her hand, deflecting further exploration down there. She retracted her lips, looking in his eyes with understanding and moved away, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

  The awkward situation lingered as he straightened his shirt and rose to his feet. “Get some rest Kiki. Call me when you have details about the funeral, okay?”

  She nodded her eyes downcast in shame. “You know the night you left; he confided how good it was chilling with you again. He said it was like seeing a brother after a prolonged absence.” She frowned, “He told me, growing-up you always had his back and was the best friend he ever had. He hadn’t come across another dude like you since.”

  He stooped low to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then walked swiftly out the door, not looking back or wanting to. The mental and physical exhaustion of the day exacted an exorbitant emotional toll. Alfonzo sighed; portions of his heart untouched by hate slowly began to corrode. Somebody had to pay!

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Alberti preferred the cool ocean breeze of the Mediterranean over the hot tropical climate of the Lesser Antilles. Vacationing in such places was nice for a short period but then he craved his homeland.

  The troubles plaguing Alfonzo weighed heavily on Alberti’s mind. In America, the strength of Giuseppe’s control lessened, why else would anyone dare attack Alfonzo so publicly? Hoodlums, pitiful gang members whose doctrine spread senseless violence. They had no finesse, or subtlety. Which is the main reason they were mowed down in the gutter or tossed in warehouses they called prisons in the United States. They had not experienced the real hell of incarceration until they visited Le Sante Prison in France or Diyarbakir Prison in Turkey.

  Shooting through public streets in broad daylight, endangering innocent people was a testament to their novice depravity. Today’s youth were impulsive, beyond arrogant and unable to grasp the sagacity of the art of strategy.

  He ‘tsked’, Giuseppe was of their kind and required continuous nurturing; Alfonzo much different. The young man possessed characteristics of a true leader. He was charismatic, studious and calculative. He understood with power comes responsibility and accountability. The wisest of men instinctively recognized the futility of negotiation, weighed the situation and took appropriate action, be it force or fear. There is strength in silence, yes, death can come with a whisper.

  His concern was these hoodlums did not act alone. No, they were paid and he wanted to know by whom?

  “Aye!” Alberti said aloud, climbing from the heat of the old taxi and stretched his legs. His chauffeur-guard settled the fare and looked around.

  Nico moved to his version of paradise. Westmoreland, St. James, Barbados in an eight thousand square foot home, atop the Ridge overlooking the Royal Westmoreland and the Caribbean Sea. A breathtaking view, Alberti grudgingly admitted.

  Alberti climbed the winding rock stairs, pausing occasionally from the exertion. He was certain Nico watched from high above as he drew closer, undoubtedly having a hearty laugh with his brother. Finally, he reached the top and looked down upon the magnificent landscape. He could see the taxi curving along the rolling hills of greenery heading toward town then it faded beneath the trees, hidden from view.

  Nico had chosen this home well.

  At the door of the modern house, Alberti noticed the tiny camera camouflaged above the cornice of the door and waved. He did not wait long for the door to open. Nico, looking intimidating as ever stood there clad in khaki shorts and a polo shirt, his mouth pursed tightly in aggravation. “Damn, how’d you find me?”

  “Easy. May we come in?” Alberti replied, stepping around the large figure to get out of the oppressive heat.

  Nico eyed the pair as they entered without invitation, pissed about the intrusion. He’d actually believed he retired up until this minute. He should’ve known better. His wife’s voice called from the rear of the house where moments earlier he lounged in his comfortable wicker seat watching the boys swimming in the pool.

  “Who’s at the door?”

  “Friends of mine honey, be there in a minute!”

  Alberti could see the woman and children through the tinted patio doors. A lovely bunch from what he saw. He walked to the functional sofa and sat. He looked about at the minimalist décor and the wide open space giving it a comfortable, inviting quality. He liked it. “Lovely home, very modern, did you have it specifically built?”

  Nico joined the men and sat opposite them. His pupils were trained on Alberti, “You haven’t come to discuss architecture, get to it?”

  Alberti’s guard shift uncomfortably at Nico’s rudeness, but the older man smiled, “Ah, Nico, always very direct, but you are right, I’ve come on business.”

  There were shrieks of laughter from the young boys as they engaged in horse-play. Nico’s eyes did not break contact, “Figured that much.”

  “Where’s your brother?”

  Impatiently, Nico leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands interlocked, “I don’t keep tabs on Vincent. My brother comes and goes. Why?”

  “I hoped to find you both here. I need your services.” Alberti reclined and reached for the cigar peeking from his linen pocket then changed his mind. His wife harangued him about the hazards of smoking around children. He clicked his tongue in agitation.

  “I’ll pass.”

  “There was an attempt on Giuseppe’s life and we believe the order came from someone connected in the states.”

  “So,” he looked at Alberti’s guard. He knew the man. He hailed from Sicily. A former soldier for Terry ‘Snowzer’ Polini who participated in the demise of the powerful International Board of Directors. He was known for following orders to the letter, a loyal soldier but a dangerous one. Nico’s eyes were on the man to ensure his hands remained in view. Although, he sat quietly, he was not an invited guest, neither was Alberti. “You’ve got Wax here and many like him. You don’t need me.”

  The chuckle was more irritation than humor. Wax was not Nico or Vincent and they’re the ones Alberti needed for this important job. “It appears Alfonzo has also had quite a bit of difficulty, lately.”

  This got Nico’s attention. His knuckles became more pronounced and his head tilted questioningly as if he hadn’t heard correctly, “What do you mean?”

  “A little inner city gang problem, gnats buzzing around the elephant’s ass.”

  Nico deciphered Alberti’s riddles easily, “Was he hurt?”

  “Not yet, but we cannot wait for the problem to grow bigger. The bums who attacked Alfonzo were lowly drug dealers, who suddenly grew fat pockets. Too many coincidences usually are interrelated.”

  “And where does a retired guy like me factor in?”

  Alberti’s mouth twisted, “Need I remind you Nico of your pledge made to Luzo on his deathbed?”

  Nico’s eyes were on Alberti. He didn’t need reminders of his vows. He noticed Wax’s hand move, but Nico’s hand was faster and the pistol tucked in the seat was now in Nico’s grasp. Wax’s weapon was pointed at Nico’s heart, Nico’s gun aimed at his head.

  They remained seated, locked in a deadly stalemate until Alberti smirked, “You have not lost your touch Nico.” He gestured with his hand and Wax put away his weapon. “You know this America best, you are also the most skilled at what you do. Your father would be proud.”

  Nico didn’t blink. His father was dead, and Nico had children of his own to worry about. He was only twenty when he came to the states with Luzo and left to guard a wayward preteen until he turned eighteen. Alfonzo was more like a younger brother who Nico watched grow i
nto a man. He had hoped with Alfonzo’s blessings he could finally be there for his boys and guide them into manhood. Yet, he’d taken an oath and the penalty as Alberti sought to remind him was death. “It is on my blood, I will protect Alfonzo long after your death Don Palazzo. I am bound as one until Alfonzo has ascended to Capo de tutti. Only upon his blessing or in death can I be released.” Those were the words he breathed as Alberti stood witness. Nico could debate with Alberti it is Alfonzo who released him from the pledge but it would be a trivial thing. In the end Alberti knew Nico was a man of honor and thus would come to Alfonzo’s aid.

  Nico kept anb eye on Wax, “How bad is this problem with Alfonzo?”

  “Serious enough for me to have come to you!” He paused then asked, “Have you heard of a drug called Anarchy?”

  “No.”

  “This pill was found on one of the men.”

  Nico listened, “Okay.”

  “He was a local from America, Florida.”

  “What else?” Nico asked and slipped the gun down in the cushion.

  “I want you to go to this place, then in five days meet me in Miami.” He handed Nico a paper, “This is the only lead we have, an address of a pharmacy. Find out what you can, see if there is a link between the New York gnats and this place. Nico you’re skilled at making people talk. Your father was the same. Make them sing.”

  Nico nodded, “Alright.”

  They were discussing details when the glass door slid open and Nico’s wife Ariana strolled in wearing a tiny bikini. Alberti smiled. Ariana was lovely. He could understand Nico’s reluctance to leave. He stood respectfully, “Buon giorno, signora.”

  “Buon giorno,” she grinned, “I’ve never had a man rise when I entered a room before.”

  He chuckled, “You may not have noticed when they have.”

  Alberti was a dirty old man, Nico concluded. He introduced the senior man first, “Ariana this is Mr. Luca and Paolo.” He left out the alias, Wax.

  She graciously shook their hands and offered them refreshments which they accepted. They were silent when she scurried to the kitchen and returned with ice-cold beers and placed them down on the low table.

  “Nico can I have a word with you, please?”

  Nico stood and they went to the patio, carefully closing the glass door. “What’s up?”

  “What are they doing here?”

  “Business.”

  “Look dad, watch this!” His son Darren shouted then dived in the pool showing off his mastery of the backstroke.

  “Looking good, son!”

  “I want them gone Nico. They’re trouble.”

  “Ariana, if it’s got something to do with Alfonzo, I need to hear them out.”

  “Who’s more important us or a mobster’s son?”

  The question had more than one answer, “You guys are, but if Alfonzo’s in trouble I’m not going to turn my back on the kid.”

  “He’s not a fucking kid, or your responsibility anymore, we are. Don’t forget I gave up my career to have a quiet life with you and this isn’t part of the bargain.”

  “I swore an oath to his father never to let harm come to his son as long as I breathe.”

  “What about our sons?”

  “They have their mother and she’s fierce.”

  “But they also need a father.”

  “They got me, besides I won’t be gone indefinitely. I just want to make sure Alfonzo’s okay. I love you and the boys more than the world, you know that but I gotta do this.”

  She turned to peer at the silhouettes seated inside her home then back to her husband; she had to let him go. She crossed her arms, “Oh, dammit.”

  “Look I’ll be back.”

  “Promise you’re not going to be gone more than a week?”

  “I can’t promise that but I promise I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

  His sons were climbing out of the pool, their pubescent bodies developing into maturity. They were getting taller, a trait from their father. The boys were laughing, snapping each other’s butt with wet towels.

  Darren ran over, “Hey dad, can we go fishing tomorrow?”

  His wife turned away, leaving Nico on his own, “I’m going on a business trip but when I get home it’s the first thing we’ll do.”

  Aaron slapped Darren’s leg with the twisted towel and it made a loud cracking sound. Aaron rubbed his leg as he exclaimed, “Ouch that hurt stupid!” Then chased his brother around the pool.

  Ariana shook her head, “See why you’re needed, here?”

  He smirked, bent over and kissed her then said, “I’ll be back soon.”

  “You better, I’m serious Nico.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  The voice was a frightened whisper, “Emilio?”

  Emilio rolled on his side, blinking awake. He hadn’t spoken to Jessica in days and didn’t expect to hear from her, especially after the way things ended. It was four o’clock on a Sunday morning. He experienced a negative vibe, something was wrong. Sliding up with the cell, sleep clinging to his vocal chords, he asked, “Jess, what’s the matter?”

  Her words trembled, “Did you mean it when you said you’ll be there if I ever needed you?”

  Was this a trick question? Of course he did, “Yes, now what’s wrong?”

  “I’m at the hospital,” she sniffled. Her words were muffled, she must’ve had her mouth pressed against the mouthpiece, “it’s Vicky –and Beth. They passed out in the club last night, accidental overdose is what the doctors said. Beth’s still breathing but Vicky…the doctors said she…Emilio…Vicky’s dead.”

  “What?”

  “I’m freaking out, I don’t know what to do. I called their parents and they’re on the way but I don’t want to stick around for the police to get here and ask me a million questions.”

  “Did you give anybody at the hospital your name?”

  “No.”

  “What about the parents?”

  “Emilio, of course I did. They know who I am, they’ve met me.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “There was an emergency and they need to get here.”

  “That’s all.”

  “They asked, what happened and I said I wasn’t sure, only they were rushed to the hospital after fainting at a party.”

  “Okay, what hospital were they taken to?”

  “JMH.”

  “Jesus, “ he struggled to absorb what she said. He knew Beth was trouble from the onset, but Vicky…she was the sweetest girl he ever met. Vibrant and funny. A young girl perched to do great things. Poor Vicky.

  He shook his head. Vicky’s mother was Senator Jillian Liebowitz, and once the story broke, the press would uncover Jessica’s relation to Alfonzo. It was certain to look bad for his boss and the Senator. A mobster’s cousin present when a Senator’s daughter overdoses, makes a great story but also brings more heat on his boss, which Alfonzo didn’t need considering his pending legal troubles.

  Emilio got out of bed, “Okay, Jess. If the cops get there and question you, tell ‘em you were on the dance floor. Don’t breathe a word about drugs or alcohol, understand? Your brother’s got a criminal record for marijuana possession and your cousin…well…I don’t need to spell it out for you…we need to make sure you don’t become part of the police investigation, understand?”

  “Of course, I’m not stupid. I know how the system works. They’ll accuse me of giving the drugs to my friends. I’m Latina, a convenient scapegoat for these rich gringos when it comes time to assigning blame.”

  “Save the racial social commentary. Those girls were your friends, and I’m trying to keep this mess from becoming complicated. It’s best to remove yourself from the situation. Since you’ve spoken to the parents it might get sticky.”

  “That’s why I called you. I need money to get out of Miami.”

  “You’re kidding, you spent all the cash I gave you?”

  “Duh, shopping, eating and entertainment aren’t free.”r />
  “Jessica, I gave you three thousand dollars, from my bank account in goddamn cash and you blew through it in what, like three days?”

  “It’s expensive down here, what can I say?”

  “Call your mom, ask her to wire you money, then.”

  “Oh hell no, unh-unh, she’s on vacation with tia and the boys, nope…she’ll go fucking crazy.”

  “Jess, she’s going to hear about this. She’s in Cali, not Timbuktu.”

  “She’s also going to lecture me and drag me to New York. That’s okay, I’d rather avoid the drama.”

  “Then call your brother.”

  “If I wanted him to know my business I would’ve called him. Are you going to help or not?”

  “Only if you promise to get in touch with your mom.”

  Jess was textually active, constantly texting friends, why couldn’t she send a message update to her mom in case the media got hold of the story? He frowned, the press was certain to be on top of this one. Sad as it was, Jess was right. She’d become the scapegoat. “At least text her and let her know you’re okay in case the shit hits the fan.”

  “Okay…okay… I will once I’m on neutral turf.”

  He gave up on the topic, “You should’ve checked out on Saturday. Dammit Jess, you’re hardheaded. Did you extend your stay…oh…scrap that…you moved into your friend’s hotel room, am I right?”

  She deflected, which confirmed his suspicion. I don’t need this, “she sighed, “I’m exhausted. I want to get out of here, I’m going to get my stuff out the hotel. I’ll find a way to PR, forget it!”

  Emilio frowned, “Look, I’m still in New York at Alfonzo’s…”

  “Please don’t breathe a word of this to him!”

  “I’m working, so I have to tell him something…hold on a sec.” He touched his finger to the screen and went on-line to find a flight out of LGA or JFK. He lucked out. There was one leaving in ninety minutes from LGA to MIA. He booked it and two return flights to Puerto Rico. He’d take her there, if it’s really where she wanted to go. At least they could avoid any media frenzy. He paid with his personal credit card then returned to Jess, “Still there?”