Alfonzo

by S. W. Frank

  Jay didn’t answer, he seriously considered the proposition but this guy Alfonzo wasn’t a regular thug. He’d checked the boy out and hitting his spot was risky, not to mention foolish. Hardened criminals feared that Puerto-Rican dude. Talk on the street was that the dude has protection and not the kind you buy at the store. Real hard-core motherfuckers who made you disappear. He looked at Carlos. The two-bit back-stabbing punk was looking to get him killed!

  Carlos punked out last time and now he wanted a second chance, to do what?

  He thought about hooking-up with Alfonzo’s crew and dumping Carlos’ ass!

  Time to switch allegiance and roll with the big boys.

  Time to get a place of my own and get up out of the projects!

  Whenever Shanda visited he felt a tinge of embarrassment. Shanda shared a fly ass crib out on the Island and owned a nice whip. He lived with his mom in the projects and couldn’t afford a car. The girl was going places and it was time he got his act together before she got tired of his broke ass.

  Jay stubbed out the blunt, “Yo, gimme the address and whatnot, I’ll meet you ‘round one.”

  Carlos leaped to his feet and rubbed his hands together excitedly, “Yo! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ bout!”

  Jay gave a lopsided grin as Carlos swaggered out the door. He dialed Shanda’s number and waited.

  * * *

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “Detective! Detective!” Lieutenant Hanlon shouted at Detective Winoski when she passed his office.

  She took two steps back and poked her head in the office, “You barked?”

  Hanlon was a fresh faced thirty-something with a devoted wife, two cute kids, house on Long Island and a reputation of being a ball-buster. He leaned elbows atop the papers on his desk, “Come in, close the door and sit down.”

  She complied unfazed by his ill-temper, “Is this going to take long, I have a lead I wanna’ check out?”

  Detective Winoski was the most attractive woman in precinct. Colleagues salivated for the opportunity to work alongside her. Aside from the obvious physical attributes, Winoski possessed the ability to solve tough cases. His eyes remained above her hefty cleavage, “I received several complaints regarding your unethical behavior.”

  He sifted through the sheets on his desk until he located a complaint forwarded from the Civilian Complaint Review Board, “It appears someone doesn’t like your police tactics and complained you’re harassing ex-convicts.”

  Carey smiled, complaints were the norm in law enforcement. Hanlon was wasting her time. “Sir, I’m really busy,” she stood, “I would love to sit and chat but I’m trying to solve murder cases.”

  Hanlon rose from behind the desk and the six-three body hovered over her five-seven frame, “Carey I’m putting you and Marchese together until Frank returns.”

  Frank her partner of six years, underwent arthroscopic surgery three months ago. Apparently, everybody couldn’t heal as fast as Jordan. Hanlon only used her first name when he was concerned and beneath the abrasive exterior was a kind loving man. “No disrespect L.T. but Marchese? The guy’s a prick!”

  Hanlon shrugged, he had reliable sources that predicted a turf war soon and he didn’t want any of his detectives going solo. He rubbed his forehead. The air-conditioner was broken and technicians were on their way four hours ago. Christ it’s the middle of summer! “Carey no argument on this one,” his hands grasped her shoulders, “I want you to be careful. We have a potential turf war about to go down, and if your theory is correct, we have a hired killer or two on the loose!”

  Carey noticed the muscle in his neck protrude over his starched collar. What’s he hiding? He returned to his seat. Hanlon was worried which meant other agencies were involved somehow or sniffing in his backyard. “Are you going to fill me in or do I have to find out on my own?”

  He and Carey went back a few years. Their fathers were assigned to the same precinct. They’d see each other often at NYPD family functions. Back then he attended John Jay College and Carey was a senior in High School. Her beauty and intelligence were evident during those early days. He was oblivious to her teenage crush until she cornered him near a hotdog vendor at one of the annual NYPD vs. NYFD baseball games.The memory of her soft body pressing against his sparked renewed arousal. He quickly distracted himself by lifting a pen and tapping it on the desk. “Carey, Marchese’s waiting!” He barked.

  “But John.”

  “Carey.”

  In exasperation she flung her arms in the air, “Okay dammit!”

  She exited the office in search of Marchese leaving Lieutenant Hanlon alone and relieved. Marchese’s primal instincts would keep Carey safe. He leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. Every precinct in the city operated on high alert in preparation for a mob war. Notorious mob enforcers Nico and Vincent Serano were under FBI surveillance. All this troubled him, especially since the NYPD was losing many of its experienced officers to attrition. Most of the officers on the street were too green. Frankly, he wondered if any were qualified to wipe his ass. Some of those Long Island kids they hired, had never even stepped foot uptown in their lives!

  He’d instructed the uniformed officers to allow the feds to earn their government salaries and make notification if they spotted the Serano’s. The bureau guys also reported a sighting of a small-time hit-man named Freddie somewhere in Harlem.

  What’s the coincidence of three hired killers surfacing in New York at the same time? Further inquisition only resulted in, “We’re handling things on our end, Lieutenant.” In other words butt-out!

  The telephone rang, “Lieutenant Hanlon.”

  “Good morning Lieutenant, I’m naked and horny and need good phone sex, do you have a minute?”

  He recognized his wife’s voice. She possessed excellent timing. He smiled, “I’ll give you two.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Alfonzo awoke to intense light. He squinted and shielded his eyes from the stinging illumination. Sharp beeping sounds pierced the air, mingled with muffled voices from the corridor. He tried to lean forward in bed and fell back from a stabbing pain to his torso.

  “Don’t move,” a soft voice said nearby.

  He blinked as the figure moved closer. An unexpected face hovered above him, Selange. “Hola!” He said hoarsely, unaware of his bruised appearance.

  She took his hand and caressed it. A single tear dropped on the bed railing. “I’m so glad you’re awake...oh…you scared the hell out of us.”

  He recalled being shot…the rest was a blur.

  “How long have I been here, bonita?”

  “Two weeks.”

  “I’m that fucked-up?” He asked.

  An IV protruded from one arm and a catheter protruded from his penis. Weak and somewhat disoriented, he rubbed his bandaged shoulder. It itched like hell.

  Selange responded, “You were in a coma and the doctors didn’t think you‘d make it.”

  Another tear fell.

  Touched by the display of affection he reached for her hand and squeezed it. Once he got on his feet he’d take her out and show her a good time.

  Two weeks! Did she say coma? Damn…I hope someone washed my ass!

  “Can I have some water?”

  She took a pitcher from the nightstand and poured water into a cup then raised the hospital bed to an upright position. “Drink slowly.”

  He took a long sip and flinched as it scorched a path down his esophagus. She was close, only inches away. The brand of fragrance she wore was unfamiliar, a light floral scent…it was nice…very nice.

  Selange wet a cloth and returned to wipe his face. She then applied balm to his dry lips and he smiled. The intimate act caused him to warm over. His eyes traveled every inch of her face and body. He liked what he saw. He liked a lot of things about this girl; she was ‘hold hands down the street’ type of chica. Maybe I’ll take her to Puerto Rico.

  Selange smiled, “Why are you looking at me like that?”


  “I want to spend time with you.”

  “Oh really?” She laughed, “Don’t you think you better concentrate on getting better before flirting with me?”

  “Flirting means I’m feeling better,” he said boldly, then added, “If you’re seeing someone I’ll back-off.”

  Her expression turned serious, “I’m not.”

  “Good!” He said. “Now I need to get the hell out of here so you and me can do something fun.”

  She laughed, “You and I.” There was no way in hell he was going anywhere today or tomorrow. “Let me find a nurse and then I’ll call your mom,” she said.

  “Hurry back,” he called to the retreating figure. ‘Goddamn that chica’s fine!’

  * * *

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Gina paced the floor while shouting in the telephone, “You sonavabitch! I paid in advance and you have not delivered!”

  “I assure you there’s no need to worry.” The voice on the line said calmly.

  Gina kicked the bed, Evan was incompetent! “You have two days, that’s all.”

  A series of knocks at the door interrupted the conversation.

  How many times did she tell Lisette not to disturb her?

  Gina yanked open the door prepared to reprimand the woman, instead Carlo Dichenzo and his son stood in the doorway.

  “Carlo!” She said obviously surprised.

  “Buongiorno,” Carlo answered soberly as he stepped into the bedroom.

  Impeccably dressed in a stylish blue suit and fedora, his presence filled the room. The son followed and hovered in the center of the floor. Father and son lacked any physical resemblance. Carlo was short and chubby, his son tall and muscular with classic dark Italian looks. Their commonality, a fierce expression that sent chills down her spine. “It’s a pleasure to see you,” she said nervously, “Luzo said you have documents for me, yes?”

  “Indeed.” Carlo replied as he sat on the bed, an action meant to insult her.

  She noticed the folder in his hand.

  “Who were you speaking to?” The son inquired.

  Gina feigned ignorance, “What do you mean?”

  The son stayed silently watching.

  “That is not important,” Carlo concluded as he placed the folder on the bed. “Luzo requested I deliver these personally and secure a signature.”

  She moved to where he sat and opened the folder to peruse its’ contents. “Is this a will and what is this divorce papers?”

  “Yes.” He polished his pinky ring on a pant leg, allowing her time to read the papers thoroughly.

  In the will Gina was to receive one million dollars, the reminder of the estate going to go to his children, friends and charity. In the divorce documents he declared infidelity as grounds for filing. Gina tossed the papers down angrily. “What the hell is this?”

  They watched.

  “How dare he do this to me, I will fight this in court!” She threatened.

  Carlo rose, “Do and you will regret it,” his eyes flickered disdainfully at the angry woman. “You should be grateful he names you in his will at all, and as for the divorce, it is the dissolution of a terrible business arrangement –as all things diseased, it must end.”

  Gina was furious by the comment responded, “I am his wife!”

  “These are your husband’s wishes.”

  The son removed a pen from his breast pocket and handed it to her, “You must sign.”

  She did not show fear but intrinsically understood if she did not sign what the punishment would be. She snatched the pen from his grasp and scribbled her name on the bottom of the documents. She noticed the documents were predated one month earlier. It was signed and stamped by the Magistrate. Luzo had planned this well. Before his death he sought to disinherit her, strip her of all claims to property.

  The wicked man!

  She scowled, “You cannot do this. This is criminal!”

  Carlo’s son removed a copy of each form and sat them on the edge of the bed, calmly collected his pen, placed the original forms inside the manila envelope and both men proceeded to the door.

  Carlo Dichenzo, the ruthless bastard she despised then halted and offered a word of advice, “Do not be foolish. Luzo has been quite generous despite your disloyalty. I am not as generous.”

  His son smirked. Both were cruel!

  When the door closed behind them Gina sneered, “You will all pay for this. I swear!”

  * * *

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Intermittent cars sped past the rundown building trying to escape the dilapidated surroundings. A nondescript car idled at the east corner of Soundview Avenue and its occupants carefully donned ski masks and gloves before checking their semi-automatic weapons. The driver emerged from the vehicle checking around then shut the door and took two steps. A rush of wind then an explosion to his throat met him in the night. The bullet which struck Carlos’ jugular artery was the killer shot; the additional ones to his mouth and lung were added for extra measure. He slammed against the car door as another succession of gunfire cracked through glass striking the two occupants in the backseat before any knew what hit them. They fell over, their hands clutching cold steel. They hadn’t seen it coming!

  Domingo walked around the vehicle, opened the door and fired two more shots to their foreheads. He removed a bottle of gasoline from the plastic bag in his pocket, sprinkled it on the seats, tossed the bottle inside then stepped away to light a cigarette, took two long pulls then flicked it over the man closest to him.

  Raul joined him as the flame took a few seconds to kindle and less time to combine with the accelerant before it combust into an intense flame. They walked away from the blaze as the roar of an overhead train rumbled by, making their way through a garbage filled alley before emerging onto an adjoining street where a SUV waited.

  Domingo took Raul’s gun and climbed in the backseat. Raul rode shotgun and instructed the driver to go. In silence Domingo dismantled the silencer from both Kruger’s, cleaned fingerprints from the barrels and trigger then placed them inside the gym bag sitting on the floor. The vehicle turned onto another street filled with trash and stopped. Domingo climbed out with the gym bag in tow, bent low to the ground and carefully poured a liquid corrosive inside, zipped it closed then tossed it in the drainage system. He removed the leather gloves and shoved them through the metal grate then jumped inside the vehicle.

  Raul, remained silent until they reached the Cross Bronx Expressway. “That was cool, we got that maricon?”

  “Si!” Domingo answered wiping his hands with an antiseptic wipe then passing the bottle toward Raul, “I hated that puta. I should’ve done him months ago.”

  “Yeah,” Raul agreed.

  Domingo cautioned the driver, “Mira, Teresa stay with the flow, don’t attract attention.”

  “Got it, papi.” She said over her shoulder. She turned up the music and bobbed her head back and forth to a meringue jam.

  Raul turned around in the seat, “Yo, Alfonzo’s up. He’s coming home tomorrow.”

  “Let’s not bother him with this shit, okay?”

  “Nah, but what about the dude Jay. He might be a talker?”

  “I’m giving him milk and cookies then I’m putting his ass to bed, too.”

  Raul smiled. He liked the plan. Let the pendejo think we’re cool then make him disappear. He appreciated the tip about Carlos but his grudge was strong and memory long. Yeah, that bastardo was next!

  Domingo sat quietly looking at the cars speeding by. He didn’t mean for Teresa to go this fucking slow! It was one-thirty in the morning and he was exhausted. Domingo looked at Teresa’s profile. They’d been together since High School and recently she moved in to his crib. Her loyalty inspired thoughts of one day settling down….one day…in the future.

  Raul lit a blunt and passed it back, “Yo, you believe the bullshit about Uncle Al. You think it was a mob hit?”

  “It’s crazy talk man. What the hell the mob wanna kill him
for. I don’t believe it.”

  “But check it, why haven’t we got no hits on the suspect. A mil, people will give up their momma for that kinda money, you?”

  Domingo took several hits before passing it back, “Word…word.”

  “I don’t think this shit is coincidence, y’know Uncle Al and now Alfonzo. Somebody’s coming hard and got us in the dark.”

  “Well, Carlos is out the picture. Good riddance. Whoever coming at us, they’re gonna trip up but we just gotta stay alert!”

  Teresa blew him a kiss in the rearview mirror and his loins tightened.

  Domingo grabbed his crotch and mouthed the words, “Tu quiero.”

  Teresa smiled and stepped on the accelerator. Time to drop Raul’s ass home!

  ***

  The patient removed his earplugs when the nurse returned with the discharge forms. The young man had been a model patient and popular with the younger nurses. Around the water-cooler, the main topic for weeks was the patient in 408.

  During the night she caught a few of the nurse’s from different floors peering in at him like some lusty teenagers. She appreciated those baby blue’s, chiseled body and all but at her age she preferred the company of her cats. She leaned over the portable serving stand, “Is someone coming to pick you up?”

  “Why, are you going to drive me home if they don’t?” He smiled with those gleaming white teeth.

  Oh, he is a charmer. She blushed, “Behave yourself young man I’m old enough to be your mother.”

  He chuckled, “But you’re not.”

  “All right youngster, here are your aftercare instructions and prescription. You also have a post-op appointment with Doctor Moore in two weeks.” She tapped the line for his signature still smiling, “Now sign and hurry up and get your fresh tail home.”