“Yeah, well, your information is fucked up,” Reno responded. “You’re trying to pin this shit on my son? Are you out of your fucking mind? You’re going to put up with this, Big Daddy?”
All eyes were on Charles. “It’s the information they have,” Charles responded. “We’ve got to check it out.”
Big Daddy was the father figure of all of them, although many people thought he looked right around their ages. But when he spoke, they listened. And they headed for the neighboring state of New Hampshire.
Jimmy Mack Gabrini, Reno’s oldest child, ran Reno’s New England operations, which included smaller, but nonetheless luxurious versions of the PaLargio hotel from New Hampshire to Massachusetts. Jimmy’s home was inside the penthouse apartment of the hotel New Hampshire, and when the attack on the Sinatra children went down, Reno ordered him to shelter in place. With heavy security.
Now Charles, Reno, Sal, and Mick were on their way to the hotel. Tommy stayed back with Jenay and the Sinatra clan. But it was a tough ride. Reno was still fuming.
And when they arrived at the PaLargio East hotel in Dover, New Hampshire, and entered Jimmy Mack’s penthouse, it all still didn’t seem possible to any of them.
There was no pre-warning, so Jimmy had no idea they were coming. “Pop?” Reno was the first to enter, and they bear hugged. “Uncle Sal? Uncle Mick? Big Daddy? Wow. What do I owe this pleasure?” He closed his door after they all walked in.
Everybody looked to Reno. But Reno couldn’t even ask the question. Charles did. “We’ve got a problem, Jimmy Mack,” he said.
“You mean about the shooting? I spoke with Ashley today. She said they all were doing much better.”
“They are,” Charles said. “That’s not why we’re here.”
“Okay,” Jimmy said. He was a handsome biracial young man who had grown from an insecure kid into a highly successful businessman in his father’s mammoth organization. He folded his arms. “So why are you here?” he asked them.
Mick handed him a list of names, with pictures. “Do you know any of those men?” he asked. “It took us this long to identify who they were.”
Jimmy nodded. “I know them, yeah.”
Reno, surprised, looked at his son.
In fact, I know all off them,” Jimmy said. “They work for me.”
“Here, right?” Mick asked.
“I think a couple of them work at this hotel, but the others work in this region, yes, but I don’t think at this particular hotel. But I see them around all the time. Why?”
Reno was staring at his son. “They were the shooters,” he said.
Jimmy was still confused. “The shooters? The shooters of what?” When it registered, it was a heavy blow. “Are you saying they were the gunmen who attacked my cousins?”
Reno nodded, a pained expression on his face. “That’s what we’re saying,” he said.
“But you don’t think I had anything to do with it?” He looked at Mick and Charles. “You guys don’t believe I was involved with anything like that, do you?”
“No,” Charles said.
“Of course not,” Sal responded. “But they work for you. They work in the region you’re responsible for. It’s just kind of strange that all of the gunmen would work for you.”
“Yeah, it is strange,” Jimmy agreed. “Very strange.”
“Did you hire them?” Mick asked.
Jimmy shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t have. I only hire management.”
“Who would have hired them then?” Mick asked.
“Wayne,” he said. “Yeah, Wayne would have had to be the one.”
“Wayne who?” Reno asked.
“Wayne Cruikshank,” Jimmy said.
Charles was floored. “Cruikshank?” he asked. “Did you say Cruikshank?”
Jimmy looked at Charles. “Yes, sir. Why?”
Charles and Mick looked at each other. Could he be related to Mayor Herb Cruikshank? Could he be related to Charles’s number one nemesis in Jericho? “Where is he?” Mick asked. “Do you know where he is right now?”
“He should be in his office. I can check,” Jimmy started, but Mick stopped him.
“No,” Mick said. “Just take us to him.”
Jimmy didn’t know what it was about, but he also knew not to question his uncles, and especially not his father. He took them downstairs to Human Resources, where Wayne Cruikshank’s office was located.
“Hey, Willa,” Jimmy said as they walked by the secretary’s desk. “Is Wayne in?”
“He just went into his office in a hurry,” Willa responded, “as if something mighty was bothering him.”
Jimmy looked at the others, and then knocked on the door. “Wayne, it’s me,” he said. He went to turn the knob, but the door was locked. Jimmy knocked harder. “Wayne?” he asked. “Open up!”
Jimmy waited, and was about to knock again, when they heard a gunshot from inside the office.
Reno pushed his son aside and kicked the door in. Mick and Sal pulled out their weapons as the door flew open from Reno’s kick. But their weapons weren’t needed. They weren’t under assault.
They hurried into the office. It was Jimmy who rushed to check his vitals. But he had none. Jimmy couldn’t believe it. He placed his hands on his head. Charles was upset too, but for a different reason. Because Wayne Cruikshank, slumped over his desk with the smoking gun still in his hand, the man who could have provided them the answers they needed, was dead of a self-inflicted wound.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
At least the mayor was consistent, they thought, as they watched him glad-hand a group of old ladies in what was to be his last photo op of the day, and then head swiftly to his waiting limousine. He never stuck around a second longer than he had to. He never engaged in small talk. He took pictures with each group, shook their hands, and then took off.
But when he opened his door, to get into the back of his limousine, ready to decry to his driver how much he hated this job and these backwater people, he realized he had company. The kind of company that made him try to pull back out and slam the door. But Charles was too fast for him. He reached over, grabbed the mayor by his suitcoat, and flung him back in.
The mayor plopped down on the seat of his own limousine in disbelief. But he wasn’t seeing things. Charles Sinatra, his public enemy number one, was seated on the limo across from him, with three other men he knew to be Casino owner Reno Gabrini, mob boss Sal Gabrini, and Charles’s gangster kid brother Mick. He also knew he was in deep shit now.
“What is this about?” he asked, knowing that his only recourse was to feign ignorance. “What are you doing in my limo?” He turned toward his driver. “Earl, what is the meaning of this?” But then he realized Earl wasn’t driving, but was terrified and seated on the passenger seat. Another man had the wheel. He turned back around. His heart was hammering. “What do you want, Sinatra?” he asked Charles.
The driver looked through the rearview. Mick gave him the signal to drive. The limo drove off.
“Where are we going?” Cruikshank asked, especially worried now that they were moving. “What is this about?”
“Why did your son infiltrate my organization?” Reno asked him.
Cruikshank was reeling now. They knew about his son? “Where’s my son?” he asked.
“Answer my question, piss head,” Reno responded. “Why did your son infiltrate my organization?”
Cruikshank was astounded that he could have placed Wayne in this mess this soon. He had to play dumb. There was no other way. “I can’t answer what I don’t know. What are you talking about? I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
Charles jumped up, punched Cruikshank in the gut with so much force, and with so many blows, that Cruikshank began to cough up blood. Although the others were cool as cucumbers, behaving as if they were accustomed to seeing this side of Big Daddy, they were shocked as hell. Except Mick. He grew up seeing this side of Charles.
Charles didn’t like when Big Daddy cam
e out of him, but he knew he had no choice now. He was done with moralizing. He was done with telling everybody to take it easy, to give their enemies some slack, to let the punishment fit the crime. They came for his kids. They came for his wife. He was coming for them now, and he was showing no mercy.
When he stopped pounding Cruikshank, he leaned over him, his face uncompromisingly serious. “Does that refresh your memory, motherfucker?” he yelled at him. “Do you know what we’re talking about now?”
“Yes,” Cruikshank said, holding onto his midsection, trying not to cry like some gotdamn baby. But his voice was defeated. “Yes. I know what you’re saying.”
Charles sat back down. Cruikshank placed his hand on his mouth and looked at the blood that was trickling out.
“I’m going to ask you again,” Reno said to him. “Why did your son infiltrate my organization?”
Cruikshank leaned his head back, as the pain in his belly was becoming excruciating. “It was the fastest way for us to gain access.”
“Access to what?” Charles asked.
“A place to hide in plain sight,” Cruikshank said. “A place to ask questions, and get information, without blowing our cover. So my son got hired with superior, but faked credentials, and made it his business to become Jimmy Gabrini’s friend. He knew Jimmy was a big time bragger.”
“What was Jimmy bragging about?” Sal asked Cruikshank.
“How he was going to one day run his father’s entire operation, not just the east coast end. Stuff like that. But he also talked a lot about the family, the goings, the comings, the ups, the downs. Probably didn’t realize he was feeding us exactly what we needed to know.”
“Why?” Mick asked. “Why would you need this information?”
Cruikshank thought that was obvious. “To pick off the Sinatras,” he said. “It was supposed to be one by one, but then they got the genius plan.”
Mick nodded. “The genius plan to divert attention to me and the Gabrinis, and away from my brother’s family?”
Cruikshank nodded. “Yeah. That was the plan.”
“Then why the attempt was made on my wife’s life?” Charles asked.
“How should I know?” Cruikshank asked. “Maybe those truck drivers didn’t get the memo. Maybe they didn’t know about the change in plans.”
“What about Miller Franklin?” Charles asked. “What’s his part in all of this?”
Cruikshank shook his head. “I don’t know about anybody else’s role in any of this, but my own. All I know is what I was told to do. Or else. These people, they will destroy you if you don’t comply. I had no choice.”
“What were you told to do?” Sal asked.
“To hire hitmen, and wait for further instructions. When the word came down, I placed the call to New Hampshire where they were working.”
Charles could barely contain his rage.
“What do you know about Trevor Reese?” Mick asked.
Cruikshank actually smiled. “I know he’s a bad dude. But nobody was asking me. They were telling me.”
“What were they telling you?” Sal asked.
“They knew I had a beef with Charles, so they wanted me to go all out with my campaign to take him down. Then they gave my son stellar paperwork so that he could get hired on with Reno’s east coast operations. Then my son hired the gunmen, all with stellar fake credentials too, to plot and plan how they were going to take down the rest of the Sinatra family right under the nose of the Sinatra’s cousin.”
“Just my brother’s family?” Mick asked.
“From what I understood, yes. They were only interested in the Sinatras of Jericho County. Everybody else were just collateral damage.”
Then the all-important question. “Who was interested in us?” Charles asked. “Who is your contact?”
Cruikshank shook his head. “I’m fucked if I tell.”
“Since you’re fucked anyway,” Charles said. “Tell.”
“You’ve got to promise you won’t harm my son,” Cruikshank said.
Charles knew that wasn’t a promise he could keep, given what became of Wayne Cruikshank already.
Mick had no such problem. They had already told Jimmy to keep Wayne’s suicide in house, no police notification, until he got word from them. “We promise,” he said.
Cruikshank exhaled. “A guy named Mario Giuseppe. A real nut job. He’s the man I answer to.”
They all perked up. They knew that link already. Through Trevor Reese. “Where is he?” Mick asked. “Where is he now?”
Cruikshank shook his head. “I don’t know. He shows up when he shows up. I don’t know where he comes from, or where he goes.”
They knew he was speaking the truth. But what were they going to do about him? Kill him here, or somewhere else?
But Charles had other plans. “You will resign from office today,” he told the mayor. “Effective immediately.”
Cruikshank looked at him. “Resign? You mean . . .” He wasn’t going to die? Mick and the Gabrinis were thrown too.
“You’re going to resign,” Charles said again. “But before you do, you will direct the board to appoint my son, Robert Sinatra, as interim mayor until a special election can be held.” Charles knew of Robert’s political ambitions. He knew that was the only reason Robert accepted the police chief job, as a stepping stone to bigger and better appointments. He never wanted to be a cop, and was lousy at it.
“I can do that,” Cruikshank said, happy for the reprieve. “I can make that happen. The board likes Bobby. They’ll be glad to elevate him.”
“You will also,” Charles continued, “reinstate my son, Brent Sinatra, as chief of police again.” Brent, on the other hand, wanted to be a cop since he was a kid. He loved running the police force.
“I can do that too,” Cruikshank agreed quickly. If it would mean his life was spared, he’d agree to anything.
“And if you don’t do it, if you fail to keep your word, you will be seeing me again. You understand?”
Cruikshank nodded vigorously. “Yes. I understand.”
“And after you resign, after the board, in emergency session, make those interim appointments, you will leave Jericho for good.”
Cruikshank nodded his head even more vigorously. “Yes. I understand. It’ll happen today. I’ll leave town tonight.”
“We’ll provide the plane,” Charles said as if he owned one, and Mick and the Sinatras looked at him with smiles on their faces.
“Now get the fuck out of my face,” Charles said, and Mick ordered the limo to stop. But oddly enough, it was the mayor and his driver who were forced to get out of his own ride, and they stayed in.
Mick, Reno, and Sal laughed as the limo drove them off. “Damn, Big Daddy,” Reno said with a grin. “You went for a power grab at a time like this?”
“When they can’t refuse you,” Charles said, “is the best time to go for it.”
They all laughed. They all agreed.
And later that day, Cruikshank did as he was ordered. He notified the oversight review board of his intent to resign. He also notified his cronies on the board who he wanted as interim mayor and as chief of police. Given that Cruikshank knew all of their secrets (and lies), they agreed with little debate and the motion for both appointments carried late that evening. To his cronies, it was nothing more than small town politics at work once again.
Cruikshank got into the limousine that was now waiting for him to get out of dodge. His family had already left. They couldn’t believe what was happening, but they knew he was shady. They knew, when he said they had to go or be killed, they didn’t argue. They packed up what they could throw in suitcases, and took the next flight out. They were gone before any votes at the oversight board were even cast.
Now Cruikshank was getting out too. But he still couldn’t get his oldest son, Wayne, on the phone.
It wasn’t until he was at the airstrip, ready to board the plane, Mick Sinatra’s plane, did he realize the truth. Other than the flight
crew, Charles was the lone soul waiting on the plane when Cruikshank boarded, and he wasn’t interested in small talk.
Cruikshank’s heart pounded when the door to the plane closed, and Charles appeared. “What are you doing here?” he asked. “I did everything you said. I resigned. And the board made the appointments. It’s all done. You didn’t have to see me off. I keep my word.”
“And you think that’s all that will be required of you?” Charles asked. “You think you and your son were going to put in motion the means to kill my family, to gun down my children, and all I was going to do was ask for a couple of appointments, and wish you a good life?”
Cruikshank swallowed hard. “I was relying on your word, Big Daddy. I was relying on you as a man of honor.”
Charles wanted to puke when Cruikshank made that statement. “You wouldn’t know honor if it bit you in the ass,” Charles said.
“That may be true,” Cruikshank acknowledged. “But you told me what I had to do. You said if I did everything you asked, I could get out of Jericho.”
“And I said it right,” Charles said. “You will be getting out of Jericho. But I didn’t say anything about you getting out alive.”
Cruikshank could feel his heart drop.
“And by the way, your son is dead too,” Charles added, before he pulled out a switchblade, and shoved it straight through Cruikshank’s heart.
CHAPTER TWENTY
By the time Charles made it home, he was emotionally spent. All he wanted to do was to see his family, and go to bed.
Mick was waiting in the foyer of the quiet home when Charles walked in. It wasn’t by design. Mick had wanted to go with Charles to handle Cruikshank, but Charles had insisted upon going alone. He was not going to implicate his kid brother, nor the Gabrinis, in his own illegal acts.
Charles closed the front door. “I take it the Gabrinis got off okay,” he said.
Mick was standing there, with both hands in his pockets, looking as if he was worried about his brother. Charles going out alone wasn’t new, but to handle what he had to handle was. Mick was worried about him. “They left a few hours ago,” he said. “They wanted to stay, especially Sal, but all roads lead to Mario Giuseppe at this point, and we have to wait on Trevor to get to him.”
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