Vanished: A Luca Mystery - Book 2

by Dan Petrosini

  I liked that she wasn’t at the bar but was standing in La Playa’s lobby. Despite the open way we met, she clearly wasn’t comfortable being alone at a strange bar.

  She pecked my cheek hello and we headed through a throng of people there to see the sunset. I worried that there wouldn’t be a good table to watch the sun sink into the gulf, but my buddy at the bar had done his part for me.

  We settled into a table on the terrace and I ordered a bottle of Viognier. I couldn’t resist ordering a little-known varietal to impress her.

  “Wow, you must have some connections. Look at this. It’s beautiful out here.”

  “One of the perks of living here.”

  “Well, it was sweet of you to bring me here. It’s a really nice place.”

  “It’s my pleasure. You deserve it.”

  I think she actually blushed. This gal might be too good to be true.

  “So how was your day today? Catch any crooks?”

  “Thankfully, there’s not as much crime down here as up in Jersey. But today I spent, or should I say wasted, most of the day in court.”

  “What happened?”

  “I was supposed to testify in a high-end car theft ring that we broke up, but the judge adjourned the trial.”

  “So, they got off?”

  “No, no. An adjournment is like a time-out. The defense lawyers made a series of motions, every one of them baseless in my opinion, preventing me from getting on the stand. It was just another waste of time in a system bogged down by too much legal maneuvering.”

  “Sorry. That must be frustrating.”

  She understood? What did I do to deserve this?

  I nodded. “Sometimes, but anyway, what were you up to today?”

  She began telling me she went to a beach downtown to check out the Old Naples feel when the stabbing feeling in my gut began again. I excused myself to go hit the men’s room, feeling like I was gonna wet my drawers.

  Pushing through the door, I felt lightheaded and bumped into a guy helping a kid wash up at the sink. I hit the urinal afraid to look down, and when I did it was a sea of red.

  “Shit!”

  “Hey, buddy, take it easy with the language.”

  “I, I . . .”

  The room began to spin and my knees buckled.

  Chapter 13

  Luca

  I came to in the emergency room at NCH and didn’t know what was worse, the stabbing in my gut or the pounding headache that blurred my vision. A forest of poles held bags leading to each of my arms. As I struggled to remember, a pair of white coats entered the cubicle I was calling home.

  “Mr. Luca, I’m Dr. Mancino, and this is Nurse Mary.”

  I nodded. “What happened to me?”

  “You’re bleeding internally. The blood loss caused your hemoglobin count to drop, causing you to lose consciousness.”

  “Bleeding?”

  “We discovered a couple of tumors in your bladder that are hemorrhaging.”

  Oh, no, tumors? Please don’t tell me it’s cancer.

  “We’re administering a drug to stem the bleeding, but we’ll have to do further testing and grab a biopsy.”

  I heard myself ask, “Do I have cancer?”

  “We’re going to do a full assessment before we make any prognostications.”

  “I know it’s early, but based on your experience, Doc, what do you think?”

  “It’s likely cancer, but even if it is, it appears not to have breached the bladder’s wall. So, don’t get overly concerned at this point.”

  “Don’t get concerned? You tell me I have cancer, and I’m pissing blood, for Chrissakes.”

  “I understand, Mr. Luca. It’s quite natural to be alarmed, but the medicine you’re receiving will get the bleeding under control. Now, before we go, do you have any other questions?”

  Instead of asking how long do I got? I said, “My head hurts like hell.”

  “I’m sure it does. You apparently hit your head when you lost consciousness. It’s nothing serious. It will dissipate in a day or so. I’ll order you an IV bolus dose of Tylenol that’ll help.”

  In the morning, an oncologist named Murray came to see me right before I was wheeled into an operating room. They were going to do a biopsy to get more information on my tumors. It was scary as all hell, but Dr. Murray assured me that the scans showed the tumors were something that could be removed in surgery. He said I’d be good as new in a couple of months.

  Before they put me out, I got to thinking that besides my headache, which had gotten a wee bit better, the pain in my abdomen had disappeared, but just lying there made me angry. How the fuck did this happen? I was too young for this. In a little while they were going to start the first procedure, then I’d have surgery, and who knows what after that. Things had been going too well, I guess. Knowing I’d now have to go through hell didn’t feel good. I was scared and hoped like mad Murray was right when he said I’d be okay.

  ***

  My partner Vargas had heard what happened and called me for the second time from some Caribbean island. After I hung up, a couple of guys from the precinct came by to see me. Still under the influence of anesthesia, I was nodding off while they stood around in the room. Not in the mood for any damn company, I didn’t try to keep it a secret. I dozed off, and when I woke they were gone. I turned my attention to the boob tube like it was something by Michelangelo.

  Even though I was groggy, I could sense the appearance of Dr. Murray with yet another white coat, which was not a good sign.

  “How are you feeling, Mr. Luca?”

  “I guess as good as I can, considering my situation. How did everything go?”

  The doctors exchanged glances and Murray said, “This is Dr. Lino. He’s a reconstruction surgeon.”

  Nodding slowly, I tossed around the word reconstruction.

  Dr. Lino said, “Mr. Luca, things are more complicated than originally thought. Though the biopsy evidenced a not particularly aggressive form of cancer, the additional scans we ran show evidence the tumors have breached the bladder’s wall.”

  I looked at Dr. Murray, who’d pulled his lips in.

  “What does all this mean, Doc?”

  Dr. Murray said, “Considering the breach, we have to be super cautious to ensure the cancer does not spread. I’m afraid we’ll have to remove your bladder.”

  Could I survive without a bladder? I guess so, if they’re talking about taking it out. How would I piss? My mind was off to the races.

  “Mr. Luca?”

  “I’m sorry, I just can’t process all this.”

  “We know it’s a lot to think about. It’s completely normal.”

  “What’s going to happen to me? Am I gonna make it?”

  “Yes, yes. As long as the cancer has not spread, and there’s absolutely no evidence to believe it has, you’ll be fine.”

  This was the same guy who originally said it hadn’t breached the wall, so I took zero comfort in what he spit out.

  “You said you’d have to take out my bladder. Don’t I need one? How am I going to live without a bladder?”

  “Well, there are a couple of options.” Murray turned to Lino.

  “Optimally, we’d be able to craft a de facto bladder for you out of your large intestine. We’d section off a piece and redirect the urinary tract.”

  That sounded like I’d be pretty normal.

  “What’s the downside, Doc?”

  “Not much, as long as we can do it. The only thing is, you’ll lose the nerve endings that alert you to relieve yourself. In other words, you won’t experience the urge to go.”

  “You mean I’ll have to wear a frigging diaper?”

  “No, no. We recommend you adhere to a schedule of relieving yourself every two hours or so.”

  I exhaled. “Okay, okay. I can do that.”

  “One other thing is, you’ll have to sit on the bowl and kinda force the urine out.
”

  So, I had to sit like a girl, okay, I can handle that, still miles better than wearing Depends.

  “Of course, there’s no guarantee we’ll be able to construct a bladder. If we’re not able to do it, the other options are to build an internal reservoir that you’d have to pump out.”

  “What? How would it get the piss out?”

  “You’d have an opening. It’d be capped, and you’d insert a tube to remove the fluids.”

  I shook my head. “That’s crazy.”

  “Alternatively, we could have an external vessel collect the urine and you would dump its contents out.”

  A bag of piss hanging off me. That’d go real nice with the ladies. I was finished. They kept talking and I kept sinking. I heard them say goodbye and was left to ruminate whether I’d just gotten on an endless treadmill of doctor visits.

  Chapter 14

  Stewart

  “All our dreams can come true, if we have the courage to pursue them.” - Walt Disney

  “Oh, we can beat them. Then we can be heroes, if only for a day. We can be heroes.” I loved singing this Bowie tune. It’s my all-time favorite song. It says it all. Man, it made me feel good hearing it as I drove on 75.

  Luca hadn’t barked up my tree for a few days now. He must have dug into the affair with Robin and hadn’t found anything he could run with. Even though he was leaving me alone, I just couldn’t shake the feeling he was gonna show up with some Colombo crap.

  The traffic on 75 was thick and slow going. Man, was I sick of driving to North Ft. Myers every day. What made it worse was that it was for a job I hated. No way was I doing this much longer. Life’s way too short, and pretty soon I’d be forty, and then fifty, and well, who knows what will happen? Life moves at the speed of light, and it’ll be over before you know it. Why did most people just trudge along like zombies? Not me, I’d trade an hour in the sunshine for ten years in some dreary place.

  Maybe Robin would be up to a nice vacation when things settled down and we’d reconnect. We were alike; she’d shake this nightmare and realize she’d have to move on. We used to always talk that the only way to live was to enjoy when and where you could. Things change in the blink of an eye; now she knew it better than anybody. I was betting she’d come to her senses soon.

  Robin liked to spend money, not waste it, but enjoy it. She liked to say, save something, but don’t deprive yourself of what you wanted now, as you don’t know if you’ll even be here later. She was right. Damn right. No question in my mind, it’s miles better to live a couple of great years than thirty shitty years of scraping by. I’ll worry about the future when and if it ever gets here.

  It was already past nine and I was late again. I’d have to catch more bullshit from Greely, I thought, as a state trooper came flying up the median.

  Grabbing my phone, I pressed Robin’s number.

  “Hey, Robin. How you doing?”

  “Okay. What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing, everything’s good. Just checking in on my way to work.”

  “Oh, thanks.”

  I asked, “What are you doing today?”

  “I don’t know. I was actually thinking of taking a ride into the office.”

  That’s my girl, I thought, but said, “You sure? It’s a good idea and all, but.”

  “I can’t hang around here anymore. It’s just too depressing.”

  “It’ll get better as time passes. You’ll see.”

  “I don’t know, Dom. I don’t know about anything.”

  “You’ve got to take your time. Everything’s gonna work out. Life just moves on, like an escalator, whether you’re on it or not.” I cringed, escalator, did I really say that?

  “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without him.”

  “It’s tough, I know, but don’t give up hope.”

  “Thanks, but I keep thinking there’s no use hoping he’ll show up.”

  “You never know. There’s been a lot of strange cases, and this could be one of them.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “Look, why don’t you go to the office. It’ll keep your mind busy.”

  “You’re right. I think I will. Have a good day.”

  “Oh, Robin, have you heard from that detective, Luca?”

  “Not for a few days. That’s what I think has got me down.”

  And me up, I thought.

  “I’m sure they’re on the case.”

  “I don’t know, I’m losing faith in them.”

  “You’re just depressed. You need to get away for a while. Take a break.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “It’ll be good for you. Maybe we could go together.”

  “It doesn’t sound right.”

  I was still on 75 but said, “Just think it over. Hey, look, I’m sorry, but I just pulled up to the office. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Chapter 15

  Luca

  Today was the day. Though they gave me time to think it over, I wanted the cancer out of me before it spread. It was only five days since I’d collapsed, but the surgery was gonna happen today.

  Around noon they were going to take me downstairs to the OR. My chest began to tighten as I rolled around whether or not to get a second opinion. The doctors seemed to know what they were doing, and they said they had done this procedure almost a hundred times. That was ton of experience in my book. Then the thought hit me: I didn’t know if they were all done here, at NCH. I should’ve asked about that. Shouldn’t I? If someone from the hospital screwed up it could be the end of me.

  It was difficult not to feel foolish. I’d always pontificated that we had to get comfortable with our own mortality and that our culture lived in denial, but since my diagnosis, I hadn’t slept without narcotics. I just couldn’t help it. It was irrational and counter to the way I lived. People always loved to talk about what happened to someone else, and I knew it wasn’t if something was going to happen to you but a matter of when.

  It was the truest statement ever expressed, but now, facing the when part, I couldn’t stop feeling like I’d been robbed blind. I continued to wallow in my sorrow for another ten minutes until a cute nurse broke the funk up. After she left, I did a reasonable job of convincing myself everything would work out.

  The door swung open and my partner appeared, holding a teddy bear balloon. A shiver ran down my neck. What was she doing here? Vargas wasn’t due back for two more days. Oh no, if she came back early, she must know something.

  “Vargas, you finally off vacation?”

  “Hi, Frankie. How you feeling?”

  “I’m all right.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah. Why, I don’t look good?”

  “I see your vanity is intact.” She put the balloon on the nightstand.

  “Very funny.”

  “Seriously, Frank, what’s going on? I’m really worried about you.”

  I exhaled. “Cancer of the bladder.”

  The color drained out of Vargas’s face and she put her hand on the nightstand. “Oh my God.”

  “Don’t get crazy. I’ll survive it.”

  “But how? I mean, just like that?”

  “Who knows? I had some blood in my pee-pee the last couple of days and some stomach pain, but that was it.”

  “I remember you saying your stomach hurt weeks ago. I told you at least five times to go to the doctor.”

  “It wouldn’t have changed anything, Mommy.”

  “What are they gonna do? Chemo?”

  I shook my head. “Surgery. In a couple of hours.”

  Vargas leaned against the bed. “Today?”

  She really gave a damn. My throat was closing, and all I could do was nod.

  “What do the doctors say?”

  “They’re going to remove the tumors and some of the bladder, but they’ll have to see when they get in there.”

  “I’m so s
orry, Frank.” Vargas patted my hand.

  I swallowed. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

  “I’m praying for you, Frank. I said at least a hundred Hail Mary’s on the flight.”

  She was so sincere I almost started bawling, but I eked out a thank you.

  “After the surgery, what’s the recovery time?”

  “They didn’t really say.” And I never really asked. “But a couple of months, I guess, till I’m back torturing your Latin tail.”

  She smiled. “Can’t wait.”

  “What’s going on at the job?”

  “Not much, same old same old.”

  “Anything on the Gabelli case?”

  “Come on, Frank, you’ve got to concentrate on taking care of yourself.”

  “You know, there’s something about that Stewart guy that don’t sit right with me.”

  “But they’re buddies.”

  “Some buddy, Stewart was in the sack with his pal’s wife.”

  “That was a couple years ago. Gabelli has a history of taking off. Maybe this time he’s just not coming back.”

  “What did you find out about his bookie?”

  “Couldn’t get near Tommy Serra. I’m waiting on a contact to get me in.”

  “Be careful with those guys. You know why they call him Tommy Thumbs?”

  Vargas shrugged.

  “When Tommy was coming up, he was an enforcer for the Bigiottis, and when somebody didn’t pay, he’d smash their thumbs with a hammer.”

  “Nice, real nice. You think the guy’s the type to knock off a debtor?”

  “I don’t see it. No sense killing someone who owes you. You’d never collect that way. But you never know, something could’ve gotten out of hand.”

  “Or they needed to make an example out of someone.”

  “Now you’re thinking, Vargas. That vacation was good for you. Hey, if you get a chance, check out where Stewart works. You never know what we’ll learn.”

  A pair of nurses came in to prep me for the surgery and Vargas put a rosary in my hand. I valiantly tried to blink away the tears as she said goodbye.