by S. W. Frank
She noticed urgency in his voice and wondered if they located Shanda. “Have you heard any news about Shanda?”
“No, but I’m going with these guys to check a few leads and I don’t want to worry about your safety while I’m gone.”
“I’m going with you.”
“Oh, no you’re not.”
“Yes, I am.”
He looked past her shoulder to the men waiting patiently at the curb. Time was of the essence, “Selange this isn’t a debate. Domingo and Teresa are coming to stay with you. I have to go.”
Her head rose up in defiance, “Dammit I’m tired of sitting around doing nothing.”
He loved her fire, “You’re doing the most important part babe. You’re giving me hope.” He embraced her, gave her a swift kiss then walked briskly to the group of men. They entered cars then drove away.
Domingo appeared at her side as she watched the vehicles disappear.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“Evan Graham.” The voice said, “ Three-one-six, east seventy-ninth street, apartment 5G. Thirty-nine years old, six feet one, one hundred—sixty-four pounds. Blonde hair, brown eyes and likes to work-out at a nearby gym on seventy-second called….”
The man scribbled the information on a notepad and disconnected the call when done he announced to the others, “We got an address.”
“We have to scope the place first, see if he’s inside.” The youngest man advised.
“Did you get a cell number?” The guy with a receding hairline and strong nose named Lou enquired.
“Yeah.”
“Call it, tell him Gina wants a sit-down and she’s sending a car.” The youngest man instructed.
The man did as told and a male answered, “Hello?”
“Hello?”
“Evan Graham?”
“Yes.”
“Gina’s sending her car in twenty minutes. It’ll be outside your building.”
“Okay.” Evan replied without question and they knew they had their man.
After they made contact they turned to Alfonzo for further instruction. The youth wore a mask of ice as he laid down the plan. They then proceeded downtown. Alfonzo rode in the lead car with Lou and Crazy Nicky. The Serano’s followed.
***
Evan Graham waited casually at the curb, hands in pockets when the late model Mercedes arrived and the tinted windows scrolled down. “Get in,” Crazy Nicky ordered the man before stepping out. His massive body silenced any protestation.
He nervously slid in the vehicle and a young man with intense blue eyes who sat in the far corner glared in his direction. “Where’s Gina?” Evan asked.
The car began to roll now. Alfonzo sat forward, I’ll ask the questions, you answer truthfully and you might survive with only a broken nose, comprende?”
Crazy Nicky smirked. The kid was a pro, of course a man like Evan with perfectly coiffed bleached blond locks and smooth skin wouldn’t want his face distorted.
“Where can I find Freddie?”
Evan’s eyes widened. The Hispanic kid wasn’t dead? That double-crossing sonovabitch! He feigned ignorance, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alfonzo or Lil’ Al, as he was nicknamed by the guys sat forward and the man flinched. Crazy Nicky chuckled, “Big as you are and jumpy, that ’aint good.”
The man lied. Alfonzo’s temporal vein protruded. Without warning he pushed his elbow into Evan’s gut and he crumpled over pain.
Crazy Nicky laughed as Evan coughed and sputtered. He liked Luzo’s kid.
Alfonzo twisted his fingers in the blond hair and jerked the man’s head upright. “Answer my question and if you lie again I’ll cut out your tongue!”
“All right, okay –okay.” The man stuttered.
Within minutes they were given an address where to find Freddie and a cell number. Evan Graham’s body was dumped in undeveloped marshland near JFK Airport. The handsome face disfigured by a single bullet to the head and a broken nose.
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTY
Marchese contacted Detective Johnson, “Can you come uptown. I’m doing paperwork but I think we know who hired the killer.”
Marchese had drunk a third cup of coffee when Detective Johnson arrived.
“So what you got?” Carl asked in a deep authoritative voice.
Marchese nodded, “We suspect Gina Palazzo hired Evan Graham to put a hit on the Diaz kid.” His brow wrinkled as he explained the possible motive, “She knows her husband Luzo is dying and this street kid from the barrio may stand to inherit billions.”
“What’s the connection between Luzo and Diaz?”
“Alfonzo is Luzo’s son and his wife doesn’t want the kid to inherit a dime.” Marchese frowned, “Kill this kid from the ‘hood, no one will miss him. Who’s going to connect a homicide in the inner city of a young Hispanic to a European businessman? It’s the perfect crime if you think about it.”
Detective Johnson didn’t like to hear this sad fact, however it was true. In a homicide of a young minority the police often attributed the murder to drug or gang violence without a thorough investigation. The killer relied on lazy policing to help cover his crime.
“My partner Winoski is tracking down a lead. An informant claims to know where we can find Freddie.”
“And Evan Graham?”
“We checked his apartment. He’s subletting and we haven’t been able to track him down, yet but we will.” Marchese straightened his spine, “We’re gonna break this case and bring Shanda home Carl.”
Detective Johnson’s smooth brown skin creased at the mouth, it was tough trying to keep his emotions in check with Shanda missing. His wife was distraught and the family expected him to bring her home, alive. A huge burden for one man. With his family in blue working day and night he found hope…believed it might happen…just might.
A detective screamed across the room, “Marchese pick-up line two!”
Winsoki was on line two, “Your friend there yet?”
“Yeah, what you learn?”
“I got an address over in Queens. Seventy-two-twenty-nine Forty-Fifth Avenue, meet me in an hour.”
“Winoski don’t do nothing till we get there!”
She hung-up and Marchese looked at Johnson, “Winoski’s heading to Queens supposedly an address for Freddie.” He rose quickly, “Let’s go before she gets herself killed.”
Marchese really liked Carey, she had spunk and smart as a whip. The playboy looks were a bonus. When the opportunity presented itself he’d ask her out for a drink. After the case maybe, he didn’t want to scare her off, he’d keep it simple. A woman like her didn’t want complicated. Drinks, dinner, sex…see you when I see you type of woman. He smiled, hey there’s nothing wrong with sex without commitment it’s a reoccurring pastime.
***
Dominick Fiorello met Gina at the airport. A tall stocky man, who’s subtle strands of grey hair, gave him distinction. He came forward to greet her. “Welcome to New York again.” He said.
A man in the shadows appeared and collected her luggage. She smiled, “Thank you.”
Dominick led the way through the crowded terminal to their car. She became aware of figures trailing their every step. Usually, he’d come with only one guard. Extra protection she supposed. She met Dominick years ago at a charity function. Several chance encounters and innocent flirtations developed into a discreet affair. They hadn’t seen one another since his wife’s release from the Betty Ford Clinic last year and seeing him now stirred fond memories of their dalliance. His wife’s father was the youngest brother of Frank Monticelli, her husband’s rival in business. Dominick was ambitious, like her, but unlike Gina, he was willing to wait. The Monticelli’s were powerful. To secure his ascent through the ranks, he remained discreet with his affairs. His wife’s family would never tolerate blatant disrespect of the fragile woman, therefore Dominick took extreme care.
Dominick grinned, “You always look so beautiful.”
Dominick did not answer. He enjoyed Gina’s company and skill at giving sexual pleasure but what she asked was suicidal…for him. Although, quite beautiful she possessed a less than admirable flaw in character, avariciousness and disloyalty.
“You should have come to me first before acting against your husband’s son.”
She looked sharply at him, “How did you know?”
He chuckled, “Oh Gina there isn’t much I don’t know when it comes to America. The FBI has questioned all the families about your hit man Freddie. They believe there’s a turf war unfolding, nonsense.”
Gina caressed the bulge protruding from his expensive trousers, “I have missed you.”
Dominick truly enjoyed her flirtations. He made himself comfortable as her hands unzipped his trousers. The privacy petition closed as her head lowered to his lap and she began to do what his wife refused. The sensual act made him smile. Dominick pondered many things as her supple mouth and tongue brought him pleasure. The FBI leaned heavily on his family as a result of the botched murders. Thanks to Gina they were under scrutiny which is never good. Had she sought counsel, he would have warned her to wait, let Luzo die then strike when no one suspected. Women were too impulsive. Emotions ruled. Dominick fingered a strand of blonde hair, tousling it purposefully because he knew she disliked having one strand out of place. The sign of someone who preferred control, but with him she had none. To him she was a good lay, yet in business, the boardroom was not the bedroom.
* * *
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Carey lit a cigarette as she waited for her partner. Seventy-two-twenty-nine was a single frame house in Jackson Heights near Broadway. It was a culturally diverse and congested neighborhood. Even at this late hour people and cars passed regularly. Sirens split the air, most likely an ambulance en-route to Elmhurst Hospital only blocks away. The inside the house was dark; the only source of light a lonely streetlamp illuminating discarded pieces of litter at the property’s edge.
Headlights glowed from the northwesterly direction catching her attention and she sat straight. The vehicle parked and she observed Marchese and Detective Johnson get out. Marchese was cute, ruggedly attractive with an Italian swagger that somewhat irritated her. She found him cocky, annoying and sexy molded together. A quick flash from her headlights and they walked in her direction, crossed the street and were at the car. Carey exited and Marchese took the cigarette from her hand and tossed it in the street.
“Those things’ll kill ya.” He warned.
“Don’t do that again asshole, at least I get to pick how I die.”
Detective Johnson listened to their playful banter and realized his buddy had it bad for his sexy blonde partner. He interrupted like a scolding parent, “Hey guys let’s not forget why we’re here.” He looked at Winoski, “What you have so far?”
She sobered, businesslike. “Freddie was seen here this morning. An informant says he travels a lot but comes here often.”
“Whose name is the house registered under?”
“I checked, the owner is a Mike O’Reilly.”
“An Irish boy’o.” Marchese interjected, he swiveled his body to look over the rundown frame house. “Any activity?”
“Nope, just shadows dancing from the streetlights.”
“I’m gonna go up and ring the bell. If anybody’s home I’m on official business about a missing girl. You lovebirds wait here.”
Marchese smirked at Carey who seemed perturbed by the comment.
Detective Johnson crossed the street with long determined strides.
“You think anyone’s home?” Marchese asked Carey.
“I don’t know asshole.” She lit another cigarette and blew smoke in his face then followed Detective Johnson. Who made him Captain?
She’d stay nearby in the event something went down. Marchese can wait on the sidelines if he wants but I’m not going to miss any of the action!
Marchese chuckled then hurried after the pair. Yeah, he and Winoski were destined to be together.
Nico observed the detectives approach, and hurried out the backdoor. In his possession a small black bag containing blueprints, a plane ticket and a picture of Alfonzo. He climbed over the fence to a neighbor’s yard then hurried across the driveway leading to the street over where his brother sat. “Got company, let’s go.”
***
The door opened welcoming in a thin strand of light which divided the floor in half and much needed air. The girl lay in a fetal position close to the wall. She hadn’t touched the food, pity. He wanted her robust and lively. At this rate she’d starve to death, foolish girl!
The room smelled of urine, stale food and sweat. Days passed since her abduction and the police search began to wane. The media were like whores with Attention Deficit Disorder. They already moved on to the next big story.
“Get-up!” He shouted.
She did not stir. He knelt to touch the thin figure. She jumped suddenly pushing him to the floor then struck him with a hard object in his groin. He lay there and Shanda fled through the open door. He heard her running for her life. He blinked twice to clear his head and slowly climbed on his feet. His balls throbbed; the bitch hit him in the nuts. “Shit!” He grumbled, angry at himself for letting his guard down. The large industrial door clanged shut as he stumbled down the dark corridor in pursuit. He shoved open the heavy steel door and looked around for any sign of the girl.
There wasn’t any movement, only sounds from nocturnal creatures and cars traveling across the Williamsburg Bridge. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He fumed. The throbbing lessened as he ran around the abandoned building, peering under cars. Panting, he stopped and listened. His head throbbed, “Little Bitch!” She couldn’t have gotten far. He swore when he found her, he’d beat her to death for hitting him in the nuts of all places. His goddamn crown jewels!
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
They located the dilapidated building shadowed by the Williamsburg Bridge. It sat amongst similar rundown residential and commercial buildings.
A trio of prostitutes stood at a corner and made solicitous gestures as they drove by. Crazy Nicky commented, “The one in the red skirt is hot.”
“I guess, if you like ‘em diseased,” Lou teased.
The men laughed raucously, except Alfonzo. He was deep in thought; these men were likable, despite their profession. He was hesitant to utilize their expertise or get involved with his father’s business but this was the only way to track down Freddie. In only a few hours they’d made headway. Got the man who hired Freddie and were on their way to a hide-out, possibly the site where Shanda was held. A million dollars on the street hadn’t produced these results. Money did not always constitute power. The car stopped at the site and they exited. The Serano brothers joined them at the entrance.
“Me and Nicky will search the interior, you guys around outside.” Alfonzo told them.
They were experienced men who may have taken offense to his leadership role; instead they remained loyal to the Palazzo organization and Luzo’s decree.
Nico and his brother went in separate directions around the old one warehouse. A fading red sign over the door read: RACHMAN IMPORT COMPANY.
Crazy Nicky approached the steel door first, shielding his young boss and tugged at the heavy door and it opened with a loud screech. Alfonzo squinted to adjust to the darkness. Crazy Nicky moved forward looking around with his gun pointed ahead. Old crates, a singular desk and a broken metal chair sat in the center of the floor. They continued down a corridor that led to what once were private offices, alert for any sudden sounds or movement. The offices held only discarded bottles and trash. Alfonzo moved further down the corridor and noticed two more doors. He opened a door and peered into a bathroom.
“I gotta take a piss.” Crazy Nicky announced.
Alfonzo stepped out of the way and walked over to the last doo
r with an open padlock dangling from a hinge. He pulled the door outward and a foul smell caused his nostrils to flare. Crazy Nicky appeared at his side and they surveyed the filthy ten by ten space. To mask the stench Crazy Nicky lit a cigarette then held the lighter high in the air to illuminate the darkness.
“Somebody was here.” Crazy Nicky commented as he circled the room.
There was a fresh McDonald’s bag on the floor, a mattress, and a full bottle of water and a bucket of urine. “This is probably where he had her.”
“She’s not here now.”
They heard the unmistakable sound of gunfire and raced out the door. They swiveled their heads searching then hurried toward the rear of the building where they found Lou sprawled on the ground. The Serano’s rushed from the opposite side of the building. Lou pointed, “Fucker took off that way. He came from the building next door.”
Alfonzo patted Lou’s shoulder, “Don’t move, we’ll get you taken care of.”
Nico and the others were already in pursuit. Alfonzo decided to check the adjacent building. Maybe, it was the light from the moon but he swore he saw a shadow in a window. The rear door to the building was splintered and cracked and it gave easily. He altered his breathing until it was inaudible while listening for the sounds of flight. He stepped through darkness aware at any moment Freddie may strike. Alfonzo took another step then looked down at his feet where a broken bottle rested. This is fucked!
Crash!
The sound came from only feet away. Alfonzo reached for his gun, prepared to use it, especially after the last encounter with Freddie. The darkness of night brought a haze, dancing shadows at every turn and crystal moonlight cresting over stationary objects. He listened for the slightest sound. He detected a faint noise in the westerly direction and started forward again. Then a shadowed figure rushed from behind the crates making a run for it. Alfonzo overtook the figure and wrestled it to the floor. He cocked his gun once he subdued the figure until he looked closely and this person was a woman. “Shanda?”