by Tony Bertot
As usual, Ingrid, the youngest, was sitting at the table, wide awake. John always wondered whose child this was since all of them were not early risers. “Hi, Dad,” Ingrid announced.
“Hi, sweetheart,” he nodded.
Walking by the stove where his wife stood making eggs, he smiled, giving her a kiss and then walked over to the counter to pour his morning coffee. He was about to sit down when he noticed the morning paper was not on the table. “Where is my paper?” he inquired.
“Oh, sorry, honey, forgot to bring it in,” Stephanie said. John got back up and walked over to the front door.
There sitting on the porch was his morning paper. I like this newspaper boy or girl, whoever it is that now delivers the paper, he thought to himself. They were punctual, unlike previous kids who never seemed to get the paper there before he left in the morning.
Now sitting down at the breakfast table, he began his daily ritual of going over the paper while having idle conversations with Stephanie and the kids. Ingrid announced that she had been nominated as the monitor of the week, which entailed keeping all the kids in a straight line. “I see. That is quite a feat,” John acknowledged.
A few seconds later John Junior joined the family for breakfast. “Morning everyone,” he announced as he came rushing down the stairs. Grabbing a glass of juice, he sat down and began to drink. “I got gym practice today, Mom,” he said.
“Okay, dear. I’ll pick you up after the practice,” she responded. “John, how do you want your eggs, scrambled or sunny-side up?” she asked him.
There was no response as John was transfixed on an article he found on the second page of the newspaper. It was about the attorney Mike Angelino. It seemed as if he had a fatal freak accident. “Mr. Angelino was hit by a passing car while crossing between parked cars. The driver, who happens to be around seventy-five years old, said he didn’t see him. Police are presently reporting this as a tragic accident pending further investigation,” the article reported.
“John. John, what’s wrong?” Stephanie asked. John looked up at her and nodded.
“Nothing, dear. Nothing is wrong,” he answered. John made it a point to never discuss any of his work at home. Never bringing the work home makes for a happier marriage, he thought. Stephanie, on the other hand, knew him. She knew him well and was very much aware anytime something was bothering him; and whatever it was that he read was bothering him.
She walked over to him and gave him a hug from behind. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold,” she said to him. He looked up at her and smiled. He knew she knew something was annoying him, but for her sake and the kids, he put the paper down and concentrated on eating his breakfast and the task of conversing with his kids. The matter would keep until he got back to the office.
In briefings over the next few days, John Connolly discovered the following:
- Old members of the Giovanna family identified a picture as that of Theodosio Gresco, a soldier in their organization. It was believed he was dead, killed by Nick Costello. Both Theodore Enzinola, a.k.a. Uncle Ted, and Joseph Bolano, a.k.a. Fat Man, were also supposed to be dead, also killed by Nick Costello. After reviewing the military photographs of both men, it was confirmed that the person in the picture was in fact Theodosio Gresco.
- Military records of Mr. Gresco indicated that during his tour in Vietnam, he became a highly decorated sniper for the military. He was well versed in the art of deception and self-defense. In fact, it was believed that he was responsible for the death of over fifteen high-profile Vietnamese politicians bent on advancing communism and driving the French out of Vietnam. At one time, he was being considered for appointment to the Navy SEALs; however, it was later determined that it would not be in our best interest, reasons unknown.
- Mr. Gresco was born and raised in Chicago. His parents owned and operated a mom and pop corner store in which his dad was killed when it was bombed. Young Gresco, then eight years old, provided pictures of two men entering and leaving the shop just before the bomb went off. His father had given him a camera, which he used constantly, and took hundreds of pictures of his neighbors and friends up and down the blocks surrounding their neighborhood. Though the pictures were given to the police, there was no way to tie in the date and time they were taken since there were no pictures after the bomb went off.
The men were never arrested though they were identified as members of a thug gang operating in the lower east side of Chicago. Mrs. Gresco took her son and moved out of Chicago to whereabouts unknown. On the thirteenth anniversary of the bombing, the two suspects identified in the picture were found dead. Both had been shot once in each leg, once in each arm, with their mouths stuffed with rocks and taped up. They were found tied to a lamppost on the corner of where Mr. Gresco’s shop once stood, where they had bled to death. Of course, there were rumors of young Gresco returning for revenge, but they could never be substantiated. Military records showed that young Gresco joined the military out of Chicago two days later, at the age of twenty-one.
The Giordano Family Meeting
June 11, 1984
Both Felicia and Fabio were sitting at the head of the table when they had their next meeting. Though they were kept informed throughout the week, it was at this forum that details of the events that unfolded over the last week would be unveiled. Though they had the room screened for any listening devices or phone tabs on a weekly basis, they tried to be as cautious as possible on what was said. As a precaution, Felicia recently had all phones removed from the conference room as well as any electronic devices. Additionally, during the weekly scan for listening devices, she had the drop ceiling checked for any hidden cameras or other intelligence devices. Though all of these precautions were taken, Felicia insisted on speaking in cryptic dialogue, just in case.
Felicia turned to Leo Russo. “Leo, I read the other day in the papers that our attorney had a freak accident. Can you elaborate?” she asked him.
“Yes, it was quite unfortunate. It appears as if some elderly gentleman lost control of his car, running poor Mike Angelino over, killing him instantly. The police are investigating the matter; however, it seems like it will be deemed a tragic accident,” he responded.
Fabio, looking concerned asked, “How is the elderly gentleman who was driving the vehicle taking it all?”
“Not so well, I understand. He was so traumatized with the incident that he went on vacation, deciding to take a tour around the world. Probably won’t be returning to New York for quite some time. I think I heard that he might decide to settle somewhere in Sicily, where he is originally from,” concluded Leo Russo.
“Make sure we send our condolences to the family,” Fabio ordered.
“Of course,” said Leo.
Fabio now turned to John De Luca and Erin Romano. “Has anyone any information on the whereabouts of the judge?” he asked.
“It was recently brought to my attention that the judge has definitely gone missing, with the assistance from the FBI,” John De Luca said.
“How was this determined?” asked Felicia.
Erin Romano added, “Two of our men approached the head priest at Riverside Church after they received word that the judge had been spotted there. The priest, thinking the men were FBI agents, asked that they move the car left by the other two agents. It was still parked in front of the church. The car was removed as he requested. Further investigation unveiled that the car was assigned to the OCTF office out of Manhattan. The name John Connelly is associated with this office.
“Prior to the arrival of our men, the area was swarmed with several police officers who were called by local residents reporting gunshots heard coming from the vicinity. But the hot dog vendor they interviewed reported no such occurrence and they left. The same vendor reported seeing someone who looked like the judge getting into a black four-door Honda Accord with four other people, three men and a woman, heading south on Riverside Drive. He was able to get the first three digits of the license plate, 47K. We ran t
he numbers and came up with fourteen possibilities. Of the fourteen, only one—47KPDT—belonged to a detective out of the Twenty-Sixth Precinct by the name of Tyler Santiago, and get this, no one has seen Mr. Santiago since then.”
Both Felicia and Fabio were no longer impressed with the expertise of their employees. They had paid handsomely for their services and, over the years, had made it a point to educate them in the world of criminology. The Giordano family’s ability in intelligence gathering was the envy of every crime family.
“Get me all the information you can gather on this Tyler, including family ties and pictures,” Felicia ordered.
Adriana Romano, raising her hand, politely interjected, “Felicia, Fabio, it was reported to me, by two close friends, that they thought they had spotted the judge and two other people, a woman and a man, going into Riverside Church on the afternoon of June 7. They weren’t a hundred percent sure, so they stuck around to see. Unfortunately, they were approached by a man they believed to be an undercover agent. There was an exchange of fire forcing them to leave the scene.”
“Did they get any information on who this undercover agent was?” Felicia asked.
“No, ma’am,” replied Adriana.
“Dammit!” remarked Felicia.
“Pass the word that we need to identify who is watching over the judge. Even if you have to get arrested, get the name of the agent who arrested you. This could help us track the judge down,” Fabio ordered.
“So they headed south on Riverside Drive,” remarked Felicia.“They wouldn’t go to anyplace that is crowded. They know we have too many eyes out on the streets. So where would they go? Probably got onto the Henry Hudson Parkway and headed north, away from the city. They could have crossed the George Washington Bridge, or continued up to the Bronx. Does anyone have any ideas?” she asked.
“If they crossed the George Washington Bridge we should be able to pick them up on the cameras that are overhead,” said Fabio.
“I’ll look into that,” Leo volunteered.
“In the meantime, put the word out that they may be hiding uptown and that there is a reward of $25,000 for any reliable information. Also, we will feed any new information down the line as it becomes available,” added Felicia. “Make sure that the vendor who was kind enough to keep his eyes opened for us gets a reward. I want everyone out there to know we keep our word and that we pay promptly. Also, Adriana, have your two friends come in. I would like to speak with them,” Felicia ordered.
“Yes, ma’am, I will get a hold of them right away,” Adriana responded.
“Is there any other business we need to discuss?” asked Fabio.
“Yes,” responded Encino Russo. “It appears as if the information left at the Breakfast House was picked up on June 2, at around 1:00 p.m. Though there was some distraction in the opposite side of the restaurant, our man did see a blond-haired man go in the direction of the restroom where the information was placed. As instructed our man went outside immediately and, after a short wait, spotted the man exit through the restroom window and get into a rented vehicle. After writing down the license number, our man went back into the restaurant’s restroom and found the envelope gone. It turned out to be a rental that was picked up close to MacArthur airport and dropped off in New Jersey. A man fitting his description flew into MacArthur airport from Chicago’s Midway International Airport early this morning using the passenger name of Robert Edwards. We were able to determine the name through the credit card he used to rent the car. As of this moment, his whereabouts are unknown, though we are monitoring for any activity on his card.”
“Good. Keep us posted. Remember he probably has more than one disguise,” responded Felicia.
“Yes, we will keep you posted,” Encino answered.
“With that said, let’s adjourn,” Fabio announced.
After a short period, after everyone left the room, Felicia and Fabio sat to further discuss the events that had unfolded. Felicia had been unaware of her brother’s orders to watch Nick, though she was quite pleased with the results. “Aren’t you taking a chance with Nick?” she asked him.
“Yes, but if we are ever to take control of this situation, we need to know as much about him as possible. Besides, I cautioned our men to be extra vigilant and not to approach or give the slightest indication that they were watching,” responded Fabio.
“Well, let’s pray that Nick did not see our man. He might get the wrong idea.”
OCTF Headquarters
June 4-12, 1984
John Connolly went over the reports of the last week.
It seemed like the driver of the car that killed Mr. Angelino, the lawyer for the Giordano family, had disappeared. Though it was ruled an accident and the case closed by the local police, John wanted to question the guy. He didn’t believe in coincidences. Not much could be done about it now.
At their morning meeting, the agents briefed John on their findings. The detectives assigned to investigate the reincarnation of Mr. Kenny Roberts, a.k.a Lefty, working with Captain O’Malley, had a sketch artist sit with him to try and sketch the guy who drove them to the New Jersey pier. Mr. Roberts did say that he remembered that the guy’s first name was Malco and that he was attached to the Costellino family, but that is all he could remember. They went back and found that there was a Malco Lombardi, and they did have a file on him with a picture, who by the way was a victim at the fatal breakfast at La Ristorante. Mr. Roberts said that was not the guy who picked them up.
They then took the sketch and tried to match it against thousands of photographs from that timeframe and could not come up with a match. Who the hell was this guy, Connolly thought to himself. He stared at the picture for a while as if he had seen this man somewhere else, but he could not put his finger on it.
“Ms. Diaz, Mr. Somers, take this picture to our Lewisburg Penitentiary facility and see if the picture jogs any memories with any of our career prisoners. Most of those housed there are associated with crime families in the northern region of the United States. Offer them some privileges if we get their full cooperation. I have this gut feeling that it is essential we identify this guy as soon as possible. Make sure you talk to any members of the old Sabrisio family who may still be alive.”
Ed White advised John Connolly that both Sheila and Samual had not reported in and that he was worried about them. “I’ll look into it, Ed. In the meantime see if you can find out what has happened to our bug request for the Giordano estate.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll get right on it,” Ed replied.
Now turning his attention to the rest of the agents in the room, John said, “Folks, we are closing in on the Giordano family. Every day we are getting new evidence against them. Unfortunately, nothing that we have is concrete. They have proven to be a lot smarter than we anticipated. What we do know is that they have eyes and ears in most of the government agencies, though we cannot identify who the moles are. We would have to triple our size to investigate all of the rumors. What we can do is stay vigilant with our eyes open and ears to the ground. I want each of you to pick a couple of precincts to visit and make contact with the captains and their best officers. See if we get lucky and pick up some information that could link the Giordanos to any local crimes. Also, find out if there are any rumors flying about that we should know. Good luck to all of you,” said John.
A short time later, Ed appeared at John Connolly’s door. “No good on the wire tapping, sir,” reported Ed.
“Damn! How are we supposed to get these bastards if we can’t even get a simple wiretap installed?” he screamed.
“Sir, how about another attempt at infiltrating their organization?” Ed asked.
John looked at Ed, and memories of the funeral services for the two slain undercover officers came vividly to his mind. “I can’t. I can’t ask another young officer to risk his life. We already lost two. Two, too many,” he said.
“Yes, sir, I understand,” replied Ed.
Over the next few days,
reports were coming in from all over. Precincts were reporting that a $25,000 reward was posted for any information about the judge. Also, and to everyone’s surprise, they were searching for a 1984, black four-door Accord.
Agent John Connolly was envious of how quickly the Giordano family had the information out on the street. He knew that it would only be a matter of time before they found the judge and the other agents. John called O’Malley instructing him to let Tyler know, if he called in, that he has to ditch the car as soon as possible. John had advised Sheila to call in every few days so that they could bring her up to date on any new developments. She was to use a pay phone and never to divulge her present location.
Everyone was on pins and needles as the information continued to pour in.
A New Gunsmith in Town
June 5, 1984 (New Jersey)
Nick remained in his room for most of the time as he went over all of his options before deciding to venture out as Neal Galuchi. He contemplated changing his disguise but that would entail replacing all of his identification, which he did not have on him. He could revert back to Robert Edwards, but that would leave a trail from the airport to wherever he was, a risk he wasn’t willing to take. Finally, he decided to remain disguised as Neal Galuchi, and in the worst-case scenario, he would have to dump his present disguise, get rid of all of his IDs, and become a bum making his way back to San Francisco. His gut feeling warned him to be extra careful.
Moving on, he decided to drive approximately 130 miles down to Pleasantville where he knew of a contact by the name of Eric Shamoski that might be able to help him get some tools of the trade. Nick had never dealt with Eric, but he had heard of him through his various contacts. Nick decided to go right down there and pay him a visit without calling first. Jay had mentioned Eric once in passing conversation; he said he didn’t trust the guy. Always in for the money and quality was not high on his list. Since Nick was only interested in a couple of handguns, he wasn’t concerned about having anything special made.