by Tony Bertot
Later at Bolnaldo’s headquarters some of Bolnaldo’s men angrily commented on Eric Russo’s speech.
“Who the hell does he think he is? He has his nerve, coming here and telling us what not to do. He is lucky we were all in a good mood.”
The comments were passed on to Bolnaldo and Clemente’s.
Having them brought before him, Bolnaldo said,
“I hear you didn’t like what Eric Russo said. Is this true?” Clemente asked the man.
“I only said that we should not be talked to like that. That’s all. I didn’t mean anything by it,” the man replied.
Bolnaldo stood, came up to the man’s face, looked into his eyes, and said,
“You listen up, you stupid weasel. If I ever hear you or anyone else say something about a boss of another family I will have you cut into little pieces while you are still alive. You understand me?”
“Yeah, sorry boss, I didn’t mean anything,” the nervous man replied.
“Get the fuck out of here,” Bolnaldo fired at the soldier who quickly exited the office.
Turning to Clemente, he asked,
”Did you find out who the two men were sitting to the left of Eric Russo and Joey Costa?”
“Yeah boss, Ricardo Gallo and Sal Manetti, out of Queens,” responded Clemente.
“So, they think they can fool around with me. Make a fool of us. I bet they must have laughed all night when their two bozos reported back to them,” Bolnaldo added.
“Boss, we got to watch how we respond, they might be connected with the San Francisco families,” Clemete said.
“Oh, I am sure they are,” Bolnaldo responded.
“I tell you what, when we find out where they’re hold up, we are going to send a few of our boys to pay them a visit. When we’re done with them, they will think twice before ever crossing us again,” Bolnaldo said returning to his seat behind his desk.
Just then, there was a knock on the door.
“Mr. Bolnaldo, the men you left back at the restaurant are back,” one of the men guarding the door announced.
“Good. Let them in,” ordered Clemente.
Two hefty, rough-looking men dressed in black, came before Bolnaldo.
“Well, what do you have for me?” Bolnaldo asked.
The men looked at each other nervously and then at Bolnaldo and Clemente.
“Boss, we… we lost them,” the taller of the two said.
“What do you mean you lost them?” Bolnaldo said standing up and banging his fist on the desk.
“They tricked us,” he responded.
The other man interrupted to explain.
“They put a decoy limousine at the back of the restaurant and when we spotted it, it took off, so we tailed it. When we saw that it had returned to the limousine shop we approached it and found out there was no one in it,” the man told Bolnaldo.
Bolnaldo stared at them in disbelief.
“You never thought to check the restaurant to make sure they actually left?” Clemente asked.
“We walked in front of the restaurant and saw the lights had been turned off so we went around back and that’s when we spotted the limo and we gave chase,” they responded.
“Those bastards,” Bolnaldo said to himself.
“So what you’re saying is they tricked you into following another limousine, right?” Bolnaldo asked, his voice rising.
“Yeah, boss.”
Bolnaldo sat there staring at them and then at Clemente.
“Pretty dammed slick,” Bolnaldo said almost laughing.
After a while, he started to laugh louder.
“Shit, we can’t win with these guys. Can we?” Bolnaldo asked to no one in particular.
Clemente turned to the men and asked,
“What limousine service did they use?”
“Ours,” one of the men responded nervously.
“What!” Bolnaldo shouted now fuming.
“We followed the limousine to one of our own limousine shops,” the man said nervously.
“The driver told us you ordered it,” the man responded.
“Wait. What did you say?” Clemente asked him to repeat it.
“The driver told us Mr. Bolnaldo ordered the limousine,” the man repeated.
Bolnaldo got quiet and just sat there staring at the two men before him.
“Idioti, stupidi idioti! Get out of my sight right now before I have you shot right here and now! Everyone out!” Bolnaldo shouted visibly angry.
Bolnaldo did not have to say it more than once. Except for Clemente, everyone left almost tripping over one another.
Before Bolnaldo and Clemente could discuss their next move and plan their retaliation there was another knock on the door.
“What the hell! Didn’t I say I didn’t want to be disturbed?” Bolnaldo shouted out.
“Boss, it’s Mr. Giovanna, his son, and the Sabrisio brothers,” the man at the door responded.
“Yeah, show them in. What else is going to happen today?” responded Bolnaldo.
“Bolnaldo,” said Al Giovanna.
“Mr. Giovanna,” responded Bolnaldo.
“What’s going on? We are here to help you. We hear you are having some problems with those two idiots from Queens. What’re their names?” asked Giovanna looking around.
“Ricardo Gallo and Sal Manetti,” responded Clemente.
“Yeah, that’s them,” the senior Giovanna said nodding his head.
“Rumor was two of their boys were wined and dined by you, Bolnaldo. Is that right?” Giovanna asked Bolnaldo smiling.
“Yeah, you heard about that, huh?” Bolnaldo looked at them in a pissed-off way.
“Well I know who they are now and they are not going to be laughing for too long.”
Al Giovanna stared at Bolnaldo for a few seconds and then over to Clemente.
“No! You hear me, Bolnaldo. No. You are not going to do anything. You are going to let it pass,” Giovanna told Bolnaldo waving his finger at him as if he was scolding a child.
Bolnaldo stood and stared at Al Giovanna.
“How could you ask me to back off? How could you tell me that? People are laughing at me behind my back. You can’t ask me to back off,” Bolnaldo responded in a raised voice.
“Yes, I can and I am,” shouted Giovanna.
“I want you to wait. Wait until I bring in more men. Wait till we know where they all are - before we strike - before we finish them once and for all,” Giovanna replied.
“Bolnaldo, all you have to do is be a little patient. All I am asking is a little time. Then when they least expect it, we hit them. We hit them all, San Francisco and New York, all at once,” Giovanna told all in the room.
“When we are done people will be talking about how Bolnaldo Costellino showed everyone,” Giovanna said.
Bolnaldo stared at Giovanna and then at the other men in the room. They were all smiling and nodding. He liked what he saw. He liked this feeling, this feeling of grandeur. He would wait, pull back the reins and when the time came, he would show them all that you do not mess with Bolnaldo Costellino.
A Prayer Answered
Queens/New York
Fazio Giordano arrived from the funeral services and was happy to learn the surgeon had arrived and was examining his daughter. Another bit of good news was that his grandmother had regained consciousness and spoke with the doctors before falling back to sleep.
Fazio was in the waiting room talking to the other members of his family when the surgeon came in.
“Mr. Giordano, I’m Doctor Becker and I have had a chance to examine your daughter. X-Rays’ reveal a major trauma to her frontal lobe, damaging her skull. There is a risky procedure, which I need your authorization to perform. A thin plate will be used to replace the damaged part of the skull. This procedure has been performed on other patients and though I cannot guarantee the successful outcome of the procedure, there is a more than eighty-percent chance it will be successful.”
“Oh my God, my ba
by!” Fazio said sitting down.
“Mr. Giordano. If the operation is successful, you will not see any noticeable scarring. Time will determine any residual damage to her brain. It’s the best I can under the circumstances,” said Dr. Becker.
Fazio stood and looked around the room at the other family members and friends, then at the doctor.
“She’s my baby, doctor. Please don’t let anything happen to her. My wife would never forgive me,” Fazio told him.
The doctor looked puzzled.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Fazio. It was my understanding your wife is deceased,” he said.
Fazio looked at the doctor and nodded.
“Yes, she is. Nevertheless, she’s watching over us. She’s always watching over us,” was his response.
“Yes, of course,” the doctor responded.
“You have my approval to go ahead, doctor. Please bring her back to us,” Fazio said.
The doctor nodded and started out the door, stopped and looked back at Fazio and the family.
“Mr. Giordano please ask your wife to watch over us. I can use the extra help,” the doctor said.
Fazio stared at the doctor, and nodded.
With that said, Fazio and the family prepared themselves for the long hours of surgery ahead. In the meantime, Fazio’s grandmother was awake once again so Fazio and his aunt went to stay with her. Nothing was to be said about the accident or of Anzio’s demise. She was too weak and upsetting her might be disastrous.
It was three and half hours later when Dr. Becker came to them with the news that the operation was a success and they could see Felicia.
A few minutes later Fazio was staring down at his little angel. Her head was completely wrapped in bandages down to the eyebrows and her little face was black and blue. When Fazio saw her, his knees almost gave way but he quickly composed himself, took her little hand in his, and tenderly kissed it.
“My little angel,” he whispered to her.
Both Fazio and his aunt sat there in her room for about an hour when his aunt said,
“Fazio, go down and get something to eat. I will stay here with her. Please go,” his aunt asked him again.
“Ok,” Fazio replied.
Fazio was still dressed in the suit and tie he wore to the funeral and as he left the room, he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar. Taking the steps down two flights, he entered the corridor leading to the cafeteria. As he walked along, he could see the reporters camped outside the building.
“Why won’t they leave us alone?” he thought to himself.
In the cafeteria, he sat to drink a cup of chicken soup as he watched a small black and white television spewing the day’s news. The United States was gearing for war with Japan and Germany; thousands of soldiers shipped out to destinations unknown. No one knew when or where the Allied forces would strike but it was only a matter of time. The news reported the Germans were all over the world conquering territories. It was also reported the air offensive against Nazi-Germany, which commenced on July 4th was having a positive affect.
“In local news it appears the car involved in the accidental death of reputed mobster Anzio Giordano belonged to the son of Congressman James O’Shea of New York,” the reporter was saying as pictures of Mr. Michael O’Shea were being televised leaving his upstate apartment.
Fazio stared at the television as if in a trance.
“I know this man,” he thought to himself.
Retribution
Little Italy/Chicago
It had been over a month since Sergio Gresco was murdered and though the police had a picture of the two suspects, they had not yet made an arrest. A torched car believed to belong to the suspects was found less than five miles from the store. The South Wabash storeowners were outraged over the incident and not convinced when authorities assured them an arrest would be imminent.
The day after the incident Davino Carmine returned to an angry cousin. Benito Randazzo almost attacked him when he showed up at his house, having just found out what had happened.
“Where the hell were you? You were supposed to protect us from this,” he screamed at Davino.
Davino stared at his cousin knowing that no amount of explanation could quell his anger. He underestimated the threat to the storeowners, thinking these people were being foolish for hiring him. He thought they had been over reacting. He would never have gone off with Gina if he believed any of these people were in danger. If she had not been so insistent, so persuasive, he would not have abandoned his post. Nevertheless, he did. He screwed up and he knew it.
Benito stared at his cousin and though he was angry he could see how much Davino was hurting. Benito also knew Davino’s presence could not have prevented what had happened. It was a well-executed and unexpected hit. Walking over to him, Benito told him to sit down and asked his wife, Ana, to give him something to eat.
It was a few days later when the same two men, who had originally approached the storeowners, showed up again at the butcher shop.
Benito came around the three-foot glass counter and stood in front of them. He told them he did not want the same thing to happen to his shop. He had his family to think about and was willing to pay for protection. The two men smiled at him and advised Benito that it was a wise decision.
Benito told them they would have to return on Friday evening when he will have the tally for the week and could pay the 20% they required. Going forward they could schedule a permanent pick up day and time. One of the men agreed and put out his hand to Benito to indicate they had an agreement. Benito stared at him, turned around and walked back behind the counter. The man stared at Benito as he turned his back on him. His eyes flared and he started to reach into his lapel but the other man stopped him.
“We got what we came for. Let’s go,” he said.
As agreed, the two men returned on Friday a few minutes before the store was about to close. The store had a few people, mostly men waiting to fill their orders. When Benito saw them, he gestured them forward. Looking at the other man Benito asked,
“You look like you could use a primo ham sandwich.”
The man stared back, smiled and nodded.
“Calito, make a thick sandwich for my friend here while me and his friend conclude our business out back,” Benito instructed his son.
“Sure, Pop,” Calito responded.
With that said, Benito waved his hand to the other man to follow him to the back, where they disappeared to while Calito made the sandwich.
“How do you like it?” Calito asked him.
Preoccupied with Calito and the sandwich, he did not notice one of the patrons was pulling down the shade over the front windows of the store while another was locking the entrance and switching the sign from “Open” to “Closed”. Calito took a piece of ham and handed it to the man. It was the last thing the man remembered before the baseball bat struck the back of his head.
A Home at War
Sicily
Because of the war and the air attacks by the Allies on the Italian and German forces, it took almost two months for Lucia and Theo to reach her native home in Sicily. Though reluctant, Sicilians joined the Germans to fight the British, Americans, and their allies. Lucia could not believe how her little town of Palermo had changed. The police station across from where Sergio had lived was now a German command post. Two hundred thousand Italian soldiers supported the tiny island now occupied by 32,000 German troops and 30,000 Luftwaffe ground staff. They were preparing for the inevitable invasion by the Americans and their allies.
With October just around the corner, the weather had finally begun to chill, much later than usual.
Tired, cold, and hungry, Lucia approached the small corner bakery on Via Guglielmo Marconi and Via Guiseppe De Spuches. She recalled how she once ran and played through these same streets. Her old school was a few blocks away and her heart sank as she recalled how she met Sergio in that same bakery his parents owned. The warm smell of baked bread filled her nostrils
as she entered the bakery. Behind the counter was Sergio’s mother hard at work filling the orders of her customers who for the most part, were young Germans in military uniforms.
As Angelina Gresco looked up she almost gasped and quickly turned away pretending she did not notice her daughter-in-law. Lucia, realizing the situation, turned to Theo; she asked him if he wanted some bread, reached into her pocketbook, pulled out some money, and got into the waiting line behind a German soldier.
As she approached the counter, Lucia ordered bread and two cups of coffee, handed the cups to Theo, grabbed the bread, walked over to a small table in the corner, and sat. From this vantage point, Lucia could see that the shelves were practically empty, probably because of the war she surmised.
When the store was empty of Germans, a young man appeared in the entryway and motioned her to follow him. Lucia grabbed Theo by the hand, and went through the entryway. She followed the boy up the stairs to the apartment where her mother-in-law met her.
“My God, child, what are you doing here? Where is Sergio?” she asked Lucia in her strong Italian language.
Lucia stared at her as tears swelled up in her eyes.
“Oh Mama, he is dead, killed. I am sorry to bring you this bad news. I did not know where to go. Sergio told me once that if anything ever happened to him I was to come here,” Lucia blurted out now crying.
“Some bad men killed my father,” Theo said with anger in his voice.
Mrs. Gresco fell into the chair opposite Lucia, and stared first at Lucia and then at Theo.
“My God, why, how could this happen? We thought America was a safe place. A place where you would be happy, a place where evil people could not hurt you,” she mumbled under her breath.
“It is a good place,” Lucia said.
“But there are evil men everywhere who want to control lives and take what people have. It is no different except in America there are more people who would stand up for your rights. There are even some good police officers, who are not corrupted. But you don’t know who to trust and that is the problem, you don’t know who is being paid by the crime bosses,” Lucia said.