“And I need your help, too,” Karen said. “I don’t wanna bleed to death on a hook in some meatpacker’s freezer.” So much for small talk.
“My help,” I asked, “when you’ve got the United States government backing you up?”
“I knew you had things figured out, when you mentioned Anders’ name the other night.”
“You might be wired right now, for all I know.”
“I’m not. You’ll just have to trust me on that.”
“Or … we could go somewhere and take off all your—”
“Not a chance.” She was glaring at me.
“Just kidding,” I said. “Anyway, you’ve already got the government on your side. What kind of help can I be?”
“I don’t have the government. I’ve got Anders. And he’s not on my side. He’s using me.”
“What have they got on you, anyway?”
“I’d rather not say. But it’s … it’s a big problem, and I’ve got kids. And if I wanna keep custody … well…”
“Fine.”
“Anyway, I told Anders he had to pull me out because I think Gus is on to us, and—”
“Us? You mean you. Gus is on to you. But not certain, just suspicious.”
“How do you know?”
“You’ll just have to trust me on that. But what about Dominic? He’s no genius. Is he on to you?”
“What are you talking about?”
“Dominic,” I said. “Last name Fontana. Alias Hercules unchain—”
“I know who you’re talking about, but…” She shook her head. “You mean, you don’t know about Dominic?”
“Apparently not,” I said.
So Karen explained. The gypsy brought our food and while we ate she kept on explaining. I hadn’t figured things out, after all. It wasn’t Karen, but Dominic, that Anders was relying on to bring Gus down. When I told Dominic I knew his secret, he didn’t realize I was talking about Trish. He thought I knew he was working for the FBI, a fact certain to earn him a slow and painful death if Gus found out. That’s why Dominic freaked out and went after me.
Karen was just the go-between, posing as Dominic’s girlfriend. Anders wanted her to be able to come and go, not living with Dominic, so he’d convinced Tina to put her divorce on hold and let Dominic come back and live at home.
“How did he do that?” I asked.
“It was Tina who first gave the FBI what they had on Dominic. Anders had promised to protect her. Then, once Dominic was away, Anders told Tina she hadn’t been enough help and he couldn’t protect her if Dominic found out she’d talked to the FBI. He even kind of hinted Dominic would find out. But he said if Tina let Dominic back home for a year, that would give Anders a chance to get something serious on Gus—and maybe even somebody higher up. If Tina did that, Anders said, he’d put her and her daughter in a protection program and move them somewhere safe.”
“So she tried to save herself and her daughter. And now—thanks to me—she’s dead.”
“Thanks to you?”
“I think someone saw Tina talking to me, and told Anders. Then Anders told Dominic, and…” I suddenly remembered Dominic’s alibi for Tina’s killing. “Of course, Dominic didn’t smash Tina’s head against the vise that night in the garage. He was with you the whole time. Right?”
She lowered her head. “I lied. I … we all do what we have to do.”
“Anyway,” I said, “what’s different now that makes you want out?”
“Anders is finally waking up that Dominic’s not going to be any real help, even though Gus trusts him enough. Gus thinks Dominic went to jail to save his butt. Except that was all a setup. Anders had something on Dominic, way bigger than that gambling business, that nobody—not even Gus—knew about. So Dominic cut a deal, all part of Anders’ big plan. But even if Gus lets Dominic in on anything important, Anders knows now that Dominic would never make a good witness. He’s too, I don’t know, unstable, I guess. And then that thing with Trish … So Anders is gonna try one more thing, something risky, which probably won’t work because Gus is too careful, and it’ll end up with both Dominic and me dead. The thing is, Anders doesn’t care. He’s been after Gus so long it’s like he’s obsessed. Plus, he’s pissed-off out of his mind because his plan’s going nowhere. He blames me, and Dominic, and even you.”
“Why me?”
“He can’t admit it’s his own fault. So you’re just one more thing that’s screwing up his plan. He wants you locked up. And me and Dominic he’s just gonna walk away from, leave us hanging out there. He says he won’t, but I know he will. Deep down, Anders isn’t that much different from the people he’s after, if you ask me.”
“So what are you looking for from me?”
“Jesus, I don’t know. There’s so many things. I mean, I need to convince Gus I’m not an FBI plant, so he doesn’t kill me. I need to prove to Anders, or someone, it’s not my fault the plan didn’t work, so they don’t just leave me out there with Gus and Dominic. And I need to keep Dominic from killing me before Gus does if Anders drops us.” She paused. “At least I gotta do some of those things, anyway. Or maybe I just need a way to get my butt outta town in one piece.”
“And you think I can do any of that?”
“Probably not, but you’re all I got. And you’ll try. That much I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because, first, you’re up to your behind in this anyway, so what’s the difference? Second, I risked my neck—twice—to save your skin. You owe me already. Plus when I put you in touch with Rosa you’re gonna owe me even more. And you’re not the type to walk away from a debt.”
“I’m not sure that’s a compliment,” I said. “Trying to repay every debt can drive a person crazy.”
“Oh,” she said, “that’s another reason. Anybody crazy enough to help a loser like that Fleming guy, against Steve Connolly and Dominic Fontana, must be crazy enough to help me, too.”
That one I was sure I shouldn’t take as a compliment. I was going to tell her that, too. But then I saw something in her eyes. I’d seen the same thing in Tina’s eyes, but I was surprised to see it in a hard case like Karen. I’m always surprised—which is always foolish. Because what I saw in her eyes was fear, and nobody who’s sane is immune.
She caught me looking, and she knew what I’d seen. And then she gave up. She let the tears flow into her eyes along with the fear. “I’ve always been real strong,” she said. “Always the tough one, that’s Karen. But it’s so hard being on your own all the time, you know?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I know.”
“I had these kids, and their father was gone, and … anyway, I did something real stupid. I … I took some money, from a bank where I worked. I thought I was helping my kids—two of ’em. Boys, you know? Still little guys. And now here I am. I got caught and now here I am. And I’m scared I’m not ever gonna see my babies again.”
CHAPTER
36
KAREN TRIED THE SAME avenue I’d tried, only her real last name was Colonelli and she spoke pretty good Italian and maybe that’s why she was successful. By Friday she’d found out from one of Rosa’s friends where Rosa was hiding.
It made perfect sense once I heard where she was. Rosa obviously hadn’t planned her getaway, but she’d acted shrewdly once she made her sudden decision. She wanted Trish with her, away from Chicago and Dominic—and even Steve—while she tried to figure out what to do. They’d run from the rectory with the bingo money she’d taken, and nothing else but the clothes they were wearing. Knowing the cops would be looking for her, she must have gone straight to the Greyhound station. She selected an out-of-state destination that offered plenty of places where a woman and her granddaughter could stay several days at a time without drawing attention to themselves. Orlando might have come to my mind first. But Rosa’s idea was better.
No one would have pegged her as much of a country music fan, and that may have made Branson, Missouri, even more attractive as a plac
e to hide. Taking a cab from somewhere near the rectory, she could easily have made the bus that leaves downtown Chicago at midnight, heads all the way south to Memphis first, and then switches back up to Branson, arriving at six-thirty in the evening.
I called and found Rosa more than willing to talk to me. Although she was one tough lady, and not your ordinary grandmother, she was still plenty worried about what she’d done. She was staying in touch with one of her rosary cronies, but had been gone nearly five days and knew she’d have to act soon. Both of her own daughters were dead, and she was determined to provide a better life for Trish, and for Lisa, too, the teenage daughter of Tina and Dominic.
Rosa told me she knew she needed Gus’s help. She planned to meet with him, she said, not only to reveal Dominic as the child molester, but also to try to convince Gus that Steve wasn’t capable of being the parent Trish needed. She seemed to be trying out her ideas on me.
Aware that he counted Dominic among his more loyal people, Rosa knew that Gus wouldn’t easily accept the idea that Dominic, not Lammy, had attacked Trish. That’s where I came in. She hoped I’d found some evidence to support her. I assured her the meeting was a good idea, and said I had facts, things I couldn’t talk about on the phone, that would help convince Gus. But I’d have to be at the meeting, too.
I didn’t tell her I’d have my own agenda, and one that didn’t entirely match hers.
“I don’t know if it’s good for you to be there,” she said. “Gustavo may not want a stranger—”
“I’m not a total stranger to Gus,” I said. “What I have to say is important. It will help you get what’s best for Trish. Also…” I paused. “Also, it’s the only way I can help Lambert Fleming. And it was you, Rosa, after all, who told me I had to help him because nobody else would.”
So together we worked out sort of a plan.
Of course, our plan had lots of what the military people call contingency factors, and the rest of us think of as loose ends. In other words, we didn’t quite know how things were going to work out, but had to go ahead anyway. One of the longer loose ends I could see, and Rosa couldn’t, was hanging out there precisely because Rosa was mistaken about one important thing—something I’d finally become convinced of.
But it didn’t seem helpful for me to tell her just then.
* * *
SO IT WAS ROSA’S and my joint plan—slightly modified, and loose ends notwithstanding—that had Casey at the wheel of the Voyager on Sunday afternoon, waiting to drop Lammy and me off at Gus’s gate and then drive off in a hurry.
One modification Rosa didn’t know about was that Lammy was coming along. I hadn’t planned on that, either. I couldn’t see his presence causing anything but problems, but I’ve been wrong before. And he begged me to let him come. He was scared to death about what would surely happen to him if I wasn’t around—a very reasonable fear—and he figured if I was going down he might as well go down, too. Those were my words, not his, but I knew he was thinking along those lines. On top of all that, he wanted to help save his own damn life, for God’s sake, and who was I to take that away from him? Those weren’t his words, either. Or mine. They were Casey’s. So I figured the man of God had spoken—or something. Lammy came along.
Rosa got Gus to agree to the meeting, and to have Dominic and Steve there. She’d wanted to ask Gus’s permission for me to be there, too. She said he usually gave her whatever she asked for. I rejected the idea. First of all, Gus might have said no. Secondly, I didn’t want Gus telling Dominic or Steve I’d be there, or want the two of them thinking I had any arrangement with Gus. But mostly, I wanted Gus himself in the dark. He’d be less likely to interfere with my agenda.
I wouldn’t have trusted Gus to take out last year’s garbage without his looking to see what was in it for him. He would do whatever he thought was in his interest, and it would be better to catch him unaware. I’d apparently earned his respect, more or less, and told Rosa she could speak up on my behalf after I was already there. That, plus his not knowing whom I might have told where I’d be, made me believe Gus would have no inclination to harm Lammy and me. That is, unless something went seriously wrong—which I was seriously hoping wouldn’t happen.
Gus’s estate was adjacent to a country club, and was itself the size of a nine-hole golf course. A high wall, coated with white stucco to match the house, ran all the way around. We waited in the Voyager on a side road about a half mile down from the iron gate that controlled the only entrance, Lammy in the front passenger seat and I sitting on the rolled-up sleeping bag in the back. It wasn’t quite as late as I’d hoped it would be, and the sun was still up, when Dominic rolled past. He was talking on his cell phone, maybe telling Gus he was nearing the gate. I wasn’t happy that Karen was with him, even though I’d known it was likely. Then a few seconds later came Steve, in the Ford van.
Lammy and I had to go in right behind Steve. Otherwise, we’d have to climb over the gate, or over the wall with its original topping of broken glass and its recently installed razor wire. I didn’t think I could do that, and Lammy certainly couldn’t. Casey pulled out behind the van, keeping his distance. When Steve turned into the entrance drive that led to the gate, Casey accelerated.
“Don’t get too close,” I said, “he’s gotta wait for the gate.”
“Are you nuts?” Casey kept his foot on the pedal. “The gate’ll be open already, for Dominic.”
By the time we pulled even with the driver, Steve was already through, and the tall, iron-barred gate was sliding closed.
“Go!” I shouted. Lammy’s door was quicker to open than the sliding rear door, and he was a couple of steps ahead of me, which was where I wanted to keep him. “Run, Lammy!”
The Voyager’s tires spun on the cleared pavement as Casey sped away and I charged after Lammy. I was proud of him. Despite his bulky coat and boots, he must have been moving faster than he had in years. He made it through the slowly narrowing space with a couple of feet to spare. Steve’s van was already into the woods and out of sight.
I’d have made it through the gate, too, if I hadn’t slipped on a patch of snow, hard-packed and as smooth as ice. I lost maybe two seconds. But that was enough. The gate clanked into place, trapping Lammy inside, staring out at me through the bars—terror-stricken.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’ll climb over.”
And I did. I’ll never know how I made it up and over. Like Lammy, I had on a winter coat, thick pants, and leather boots. My gloves were leather, too, and they gave me some grip on the cold, slippery bars. Like the wall itself, the gate was twice my height, the bars maybe four inches apart. At the top there were fancy curlicues and sharp points and some old-fashioned barbed wire. But I made it, with only a few tears in my clothes and one scratch on my cheek. I had to. I was more horrified at the prospect of my leaving Lammy alone in there than he was.
I dropped the last four feet to the pavement. “See?” I said, between gasps. “Nothing to it.” I was nearly hysterical myself, and Lammy looked ready to burst into tears. I actually thought maybe I should hug him.
But I didn’t want to give the idea we were scared to whoever was manning the monitor for the video camera fixed high up on the wall, pointing down at us. I kept my face turned away from the lens and pulled Lammy close to the wall under the camera.
Meanwhile, Gus’s militia was already arriving.
Actually, I was happy to see the open, cabless Jeep bouncing out of the woods toward us. Better to have Gus’s usual security guards get to us before Dominic or Steve, since the guards were more likely to notify Gus and less likely to just shoot us on the spot. But then Steve’s van appeared, too, right behind the Jeep.
The guards—two thugs in matching snowmobile suits and semiautomatic rifles—climbed out of the Jeep and Steve stood by as they searched Lammy and me, very professionally, head to toe and everywhere in between. All they found was the Beretta under my arm. They’d have found anything else there was, too, which is why t
here wasn’t anything else.
“I’ll take that,” Steve said, reaching out for the Beretta.
“No fucking way,” the man answered. He checked the magazine. “Damn thing’s fully loaded. Mr. Apprezziano don’t let no guns but his on the property. Even you don’t bring no fucking piece in here, Mr. Connolly. You know that.”
“Listen, you dumb sonovabitch. Give me the fucking jagoff’s gun. I’m taking it in to Mr. Apprezziano so he’ll know just what this asshole was up to.”
“But we got our orders,” the other man said, stepping close to his partner. “We gotta—”
“Fuck your orders! I’ll have both your asses, you don’t give me that goddamn piece.” Steve, taller than either of them, leaned toward them and spoke very slowly. “Who the fuck you think I am, some two-bit fucking security guard like you?”
Gus was the big boss, but the guards knew Steve was far higher on the ladder than they were. He wasn’t Italian, so he’d never be made, but still, he’d married into the family. He was a physically big man, too, and he exuded power. Besides, Gus was up at the house … and Steve was right here, in their faces.
The guards gave in … which in the end turned out to be for the best, for a reason no one could ever have dreamed of.
Lammy and I rode to the house in the back of Steve’s van, sitting on the bench seat. One of the guards sat in a captain’s chair swiveled around to face us, and the other followed behind in the Jeep. It was the same ride, in the same vehicle, I’d taken five days earlier, and the same road I’d walked out on after my visit with Gus. But it seemed shorter this time.
It was still light out—although it wouldn’t be for long—and I noticed for the first time that the carpeting in the van was blue. We bounced up and over the little hump-backed wooden bridge, crossing the stream. Looking out the window, I didn’t see or hear any guard dogs, but knew they were around somewhere. I’d seen a tangle of thick leather leashes, and a couple of muzzles, lying on the floor of the Jeep.
Steve parked the van beside Dominic’s car and we all climbed out. The Jeep pulled up and the driver waved a cellular phone at Steve. “Mr. Apprezziano says to bring these two in to him,” he called. “Says he’s in the library.”
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