by Frank, S. W.
“Um-hum.”
“I’ll be there before noon, I’ll let you know when I land.”
“Please don’t tell Alfonzo, I’m begging you.”
He stretched and walked to the closet for some clothes. He’d think of something to tell his boss. “Okay.”
“Thanks, Emilio. I owe you one.”
“You don’t owe me anything.” He said –and he meant it. He was doing this out of duty, plain and simple!
Emilio’s shiny black hair glistened under the heat of the Floridian sun when he emerged from the taxi. He walked briskly to the rectangular slate and granite façade. It’s oversize green canopy held white lettering which identified the prestigious hotel.
There were several people in the lobby, a couple checking in, a group of young men heading out for the day and an old man requesting another room on a lower floor. Emilio pressed the elevator button, it chimed open and he stepped inside, hit number four then waited for the door to close. As the elevator began its ascent, he patiently watched the numbers over the door panel illuminate as it passed each floor until finally number four lit up and the doors retracted.
He tapped on room 405, and Jessica appeared, “Gosh that was fast,” she said.
Emilio stepped inside and closed the door. From the looks of it, the girls were definitely partying. Wine bottles filled the wastebasket, frilly women’s clothes draped the twin beds and hair products lined the bureau. There was a suitcase near the front of the room and another smaller traveling case open on the floor.
Jessica knelt over the open case, snatching clothes off the bed and stuffing them inside, “I’m almost done.”
“Is this all your shit?”
“Not everything. Hand me the blue make-up case on the dresser, please.” She asked.
He stepped over high heel shoes to get there and reached for the case then stopped. Next to Jessica’s bag of make-up was a clear box with several cylindrical pills inside. Etched along one side of the bi-colored capsule, one word: ANARCHY.
Emilio called Jessica over and pointed to his discovery, “You fucking lied to me!”
“Emilio, calmarse!”
He scowled, “Answer me or I’m leaving!”
“Okay…” she grimaced, “I’m sorry. I gave Beth the money. I didn’t know she was using it to buy drugs…I swear on my uncle!”
He snatched up the case and flushed the pills down the toilet, “Get your shit, we’re going.”
Jessica hopped over the shoes and rushed to close her suitcase. He wanted to strangle her. She lied, she fucking lied. All bets were off, he dialed his boss.
“Hey boss it’s me, I’m with your cousin.” He saw Jessica’s head snap to attention and ignored her pleading expression. “There’s a slight problem.”
“I know. We’ll talk about it later, understand?”
This morning he’d told his boss he had an unexpected emergency, nothing more. He should’ve known, Alfonzo had eyes everywhere. “Yes.”
“Keep her away from New York and get her out of Miami.”
“Yes.”
“-And Emilio?”
Emilio held his breath, waiting to hear the words. His heart drummed loudly in his chest. “Yes, Mister Diaz.”
“Keep her sequestered and don’t call me. I’ll contact you after I take care of it –and you better answer, comprende?
The wild drums faded. Relief and oxygen filled his lungs. “Okay, I will.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
The news reporter pointed to the Miami hospital where Victoria Liebowitz, a Senator’s daughter was brought in unconscious along with another unidentified young woman.
“Sources tell us, toxicology results confirm Victoria Liebowitz had a high concentration of drugs and alcohol in her system. The street drug Anarchy, police officials believe may be the same drug responsible for a total of sixteen fatalities around the U.S. The family is outraged and requesting law enforcement investigates the case and bring the persons responsible for selling these drugs to justice. Senator Liebowitz is inside the hospital, we understand and as soon as we have more information on this breaking story we’ll bring it to you live. This is Madilyn Quevas, reporting.”
Alfonzo gestured with his hand and the large screen went black. He walked to the window to check if the police car was still sitting across the street. It hadn’t moved. He cursed. The cage bars were shutting him in. “Fuck!”
The police were here since the wee hours of the morning, tailing him without making an effort to hide it. Shit was coming at him from every motherfucking direction. He spoke with Anita this morning, gave her specific instructions and ordered her not to breathe a word to his wife.
“Sweetheart, you okay?”
He didn’t turn around. She’d see his distress. “I’m good.”
Selange was behind him, wrapping her arms around his waist. The comforting arms of a loyal and perfect wife. He couldn’t relax, not this time. Danté was dead, his wife shot at, Jessica involved in some mess in Miami and the police were attached to his ass like a bad rash. He should have listened to his gut and stayed the fuck in Puerto Rico!
“Where did you go last night?”
“Out.”
“Did something happen?”
“Babe, I’m not in the mood for a thousand questions right now, I got a lot of stuff going on. Give me a little space, por favor.”
Her hands dropped from his waist. He could feel her anger, it was justified. He was shutting her out, again, this time for good reason. He needed to have a clear head, no distractions whatsoever and she was a distraction. When she exited without a word, he considered stopping her to apologize. Instead, he flopped down on the sofa deep in thought. He’d gotten word about the foiled hit on Giuseppe and became perturbed. The attack came shortly after the attempt on his life. He was convinced someone orchestrated a dual elimination. As he pondered it, the more plausible it became. Juan was a small-time hustler from the neighborhood. He and his boys hung-out near the Polo Grounds, talking cars and smoking weed. They weren’t smart or bold enough to come after him without an incentive, he surmised.
He rolled his neck, trying to release the tension. Every muscle in his body felt tight and his pectorals jumped in rapid succession. Alfonzo clenched his fists, fighting his thoughts and losing. Shit, he thought, I have to do this!
Suddenly Selange reappeared to give him a piece of her mind, “You know Alfonzo I don’t care if you’re pissed off at the world, don’t start taking it out on me, I’m not your enemy, remember that!”
He got up from the couch, took his wife in his arms and asked forgiveness. She stroked the back of his head, “Tell me what’s going on, let me in.”
“I can’t,” he said, “the less you know the better.”
She pulled back to look into his eyes. Reading him and finding the truth in the tropical blues, “You’ve tried hard sweetie, I know you have. I love you for it, because you did it for us. Don’t struggle anymore, we have one life and we can’t live with one foot in and the other out. Look what’s happening,” she squeezed his hands bravely, “if we step in, we step in together.”
His head drooped under the weight of her words, “Babe, you and the kids are all I care about…”
There were no tears, no weakness in the feline eyes when she spoke, “You have to care about yourself, too. Do what you have to so we can stay a family. I’d rather live as a mobster’s wife than mourn my honest husband.”
He sucked in air, “There’s no turning back for me this time. Once I get involved with these guys, they’re not going to let me out alive, me siento?”
“Yes, but truthfully hun you were never out, only in denial.”
“Maybe, you’re right.”
“You know I am. So, are you going to stay in denial or accept who you are?”
Alfonzo straightened, the weight dissolved, “Okay…” his eyes smiled with love, “I’m going out, you want to take a spin with me?”
“Sure, let me tell Anita we’re
leaving.”
“Do that.”
She rushed upstairs and he glanced at the briefcase against the wall. He planned to do this alone, having her beside him, made it easier. He walked to the window, shoved his hands in his pockets gritting his teeth. Alberti was right; a man may have a thousand suits but gravitated to the one which fit him best.
The police cruiser followed Alfonzo’s Mercedes-Benz SLS AMG. Once they reached the New Jersey state line the cruiser faded from view. Alfonzo stayed with the flow of traffic, not making any sudden maneuvers to draw attention from State Troopers then continued South on I-95 to the Garden State Parkway. An hour later, the Mercedes drove into an empty parking space outside Dellegio’s Restaurant. He emerged from the car, took the briefcase off the backseat and waited for his wife. He clasped her hand and escorted her inside the ornate lobby.
The lights in the main room were dim, its decorative fixtures sparkling from a recent polish. The blonde hostess stepped from behind the four foot wood stand, more like a podium, clutching laminated menus to her bosom. “Hello. Welcome to Dellegio’s.”
Alfonzo scoured the lobby, “Private dining room please for the Palazzo family.”
Selange’s face remained impassive as the woman nodded, escorted them away from the filled dining hall down a corridor to a cozy room. The dining arrangements were finer here, even the décor were top quality. Once they were seated, the hostess placed menus on the table then hurried to fetch her boss.
Minutes later, a stout man appeared, his girth filling the width of the doorway. On his heels were five severe looking men, their granite expressions falling on the young man and his female companion.
The door closed and Dellegio approached. A man blocked the exit with his body; the others took positions on each side of the couple, hands clasped in front of them. Their actions may have intimidated others, however to Alfonzo, it was merely a prudent safety precaution. He took no offense.
“This is a surprise, young Palazzo.” He turned toward Selange, “and you bring your lovely wife.”
Alfonzo did not introduce Selange by name, instead he spoke bluntly and got Dellegio’s attention. “I’m calling in a favor.”
The large man took a seat at the table, “Got anything to do with your appearance on prime time?”
“You can say that.”
“Humph, figured. Favors come with a price.”
Alfonzo eyed the man, “Heard you’re scouting downtown for a location for another restaurant.”
“Yeah,” he leaned back, his attention piqued, “you heard right. I’m not keen on the leasing prices, highway robbery you know what I mean?”
“Parting the rich from their money requires more than good food. You have to sell them an illusion, provide an ambience that reminds them of their posh Fifth Avenue lofts. Tribeca, is an ideal location for an upscale place like Dellegio’s, what do you think?”
The man grinned, “I’m listening.”
Alfonzo lifted the briefcase from the floor, sat it on his lap and snapped it open. The guard moved in on him but soon relaxed when he noticed the contents. Alfonzo removed a document, signed it and slid it across the table, “Prime real estate in Tribeca, worth two and a half million. Perfect for a nice restaurant like yours.”
The large man’s eyes skimmed the document. It was a legal transfer of property. The young man got his interest. “What do you need?”
Another item was placed on the table, a cell phone, “There’s an address stored in contacts. I need someone to pay the addressee a visit. I need a full confession.”
“About?”
Alfonzo leaned over the briefcase, “Who’s putting my ass on the stove.”
He thought the kid was out the business, for good. This favor was not the request of a man in retirement. No, this was Alfonzo’s reemergence into society. He smirked. He always liked the young Palazzo, he definitely had balls. “All right, when do you need it?”
“Tonight.”
“How do I reach you?”
He tapped the cellular, “The number’s programmed in, just hit number one and talk to me.”
“Okay.”
Alfonzo snapped the suitcase shut, placed it on the floor and lifted the menu, “Have you met my wife?” He asked once their business was over.
“Haven’t had the pleasure.”
“Ricardo this is my wife Selange.”
He lifted her hand in his chubby palms, “Pleasure, Selange.”
“Same.”
“We’re starved, what’s your recommendation?”
Delleggio laughed heartily, “I’m glad you’ve come to eat, as well. Everything’s excellent but for you and the lovely lady, I’ll have the chef whip up something extra special.” He stood, tapped Alfonzo on the shoulder and added, “It’s nice to have you back with the family Don Alfonzo.”
Alfonzo nodded, Ricardo Dellegio was Nico’s second cousin. A man whose actions in the past proved honorable, “Thanks, mi amico.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
“Those little punks can’t do shit right!” Dominick fumed. He didn’t break a stride. He took these strolls on his property often. “Send a cleaner to take care of it.” He directed his Capo.
Boris nodded.
They climbed the small hill leading to the house and came to the foot of the gate. They halted at the sight of Alberti and another less congenial man waiting beside a rental car. Boris’ hand traveled to his waist. Alberti’s enforcer smirked, his actions were less obvious. In his pocket, his finger already rested on the trigger of a G23.
“Don Fiorello, how are you?” Alberti announced pleasantly.
Beneath Alberti’s unassuming countenance, lurked a dangerous man. Dominick had firsthand knowledge of this and tread carefully in his speech, “Hello Signore Luca, your visit is unexpected.”
“Yes, it is.”
Dominick continued forward, stopping a foot away from the shorter man, “What is this about?”
In the usual Alberti fashion, he commented on the landscape then gestured to the pathway, “Let’s take a stroll. I enjoy stretching these feeble legs whenever I can.”
Alberti’s old man routine brought a smile to Dominick’s face. “Certainly.”
They walked together down the path followed by Boris and Alberti’s man. The trees were dense here, concealing them from the eyes of any law enforcement who might be watching.
“How is business?”
“Pretty good.”
“I am glad.”
Dominick walked slowly, “Your presence at my door is for a reason, do you care to tell me?”
“Oh, what a pretty flower, who tends them?”
“A landscaper, I have no time to do it myself.” Dominick answered impatiently.
“It’s nice to surround yourself with pretty flowers but it’s best to personally tend to them from time to time.”
“Yeah…I suppose that’s one way of looking at it.”
Alberti stopped to admire the scenery, “Is there another?”
He secretly hoped Alberti would reveal the nature of his visit and forego the artifice. He played along, “It’s best to leave some things in the hands of a professional.”
“Hum.”
Dominick took a seat on the pine bench, waited until Alberti sat then stared ahead, far beyond the small pond. This visit was an inquiry. “What have you come to say, Alberti?”
“You once handled a delicate job at my request. My gratitude was shown when your predecessor’s debts were wiped clean.”
Yes, favors. They must always be repaid. Alberti, had kept his word. The families disharmony became a melodious one, since the intervention. His businesses flourished, without impediment. Old adversaries became allies. Indirectly, he had Alberti to thank for this. “And I am grateful.”
Alberti lit a cigar then blew a perfect circle of smoke in the air, “There comes a time when niceties are set aside. This is that time. There is but one courtesy, which I extend. There will be retribution for the attempt on D
on Dichenzo’s life. We do not desire a war but sometimes such drastic measures are necessary to flush out traitors. There will be no passes given to the insurgent.” Alberti puffed on the cigar, “Ah, life is so precious. Cigars cannot be appreciated in death. I digress, as I was saying, No one desires war, people die. A show of good-faith can prevent needless bloodshed.”
Dominick inhaled the cigar filled air. His nostrils flared, “What is this good-faith?”
“The traitor’s head within 72 hours.”
“Or?”
“Or, anarchy will not come from a drug, it will be a torturous reality.” Alberti stood with his cigar, nodded to his man and they strolled casually up the path.
Boris watched until they were out of view and joined his boss, “What do you want me to do?”
“Clever old man.” Dominick murmured. ‘He knows about the drugs and suspects me of the insurgency, but he has no proof, yet.’ “Sweep up the mess, then we send the bastard a head.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The jet sat on the tarmac, fueled and ready to go once everyone arrived. Selange settled in the seat , looking anxiously out the elliptical shaped porthole. “Are you sure she’s on the way, because I’m not leaving without Allie?”
Once they left Dellegio’s, he’d driven straight to a private hangar in Newark. He hadn’t shared his plan with Selange until now. “They’ll be here soon, babe relax.”
“You should’ve told me about this, I left everything at the brownstone.”
Alfonzo secured his briefcase in an overhead compartment and occupied an opposing seat. He smiled, trying to assuage her fears, “It’s all taken care of, trust me.”
She sighed, then turned to face him, “Alright…but I won’t feel better until Allie’s right here with me.”
His mouth curled in a grin, “Tranquilo, you’re stressing.”
The light brown eyes softened, “Who’s Kiki?”