by Jon Mills
After returning home to get some well-deserved sleep that evening, he tried to get comfortable. Sleep, he thought. It just seemed foreign. He’d be lucky if he got one or two hours before he would be called back out.
He switched on some music. A little bit of Bach. There was nothing that soothed his mind better than the sound of piano playing lightly. It pushed out the noise in his head. The sound of the streets. The memories of seeing one too many deaths. Most got into the police to make a difference, but that was just foolish in hindsight. You didn’t change anything in this world.
You merely put away one criminal and another popped up in their place. It was a never-ending cycle that he only wished he could escape. In many ways he could see the appeal of the work Jack did, or at least he had done. The past year had been quiet. Since Gafino was gone, there had been a slump in criminal activity, at least the kind he dealt with. Domestics, traffic, and hate crimes made up the majority of calls for officers. Homicides were usually cleared up fast. At least the ones that weren’t committed by a member of a crime family.
He’d grown used to waking early and retuning home late. He would look over case files and try to piece together who was responsible.
Frank lived alone. He’d been married just over three years to Lillian Routhaby. She soon grew tired of sleeping alone. He couldn’t fault her. She was a good woman. He’d met her through an art gallery that he would frequent when he had some downtime. At first she had been very accepting of his work. The calls he would get in the early hours that would pull him away. The nights he wouldn’t speak because he had seen horrors that no person should ever have to witness. The city held secrets behind locked doors. Evil permeated every facet of society. Young or old, rich or poor, he had seen all of them affected, and each one commit atrocities.
It took its toll on a person. A marriage was hard to sustain in his line of work. The department saw more divorces than most other careers. Of course he always imagined he would be different; the one that slipped through the cracks unscathed.
Frank poured himself two fingers of scotch and took a seat in his leather chair. He felt the golden liquid burn as he allowed the music to lull him into a deep slumber.
17
Jack was getting no response from Dana. They had been holed up inside this apartment for well over six hours. They had heard the banging on the doors as men went room to room asking if anyone had seen anything.
But thankfully no one had seen Dwayne let them in.
They’d learned a little about the man in the apartment. He lived alone. Ex-military. He’d done eleven years in the Marine Corps. Nothing bothered him more than coming back to a country that seemed to abandon its veterans. He walked with a limp, something they came to discover was a prosthetic leg. He’d been shot in Afghanistan. They weren’t able to save the limb.
“You ever married, Dwayne?”
“Nope. No one would put up with my shit and I wouldn’t put up with theirs.”
Jack chuckled.
“You know about these men running this building?” Jack asked.
“They moved in four years ago. Took over the whole damn place. They walk around as though the world owes them a living. But nobody owes anyone anything. I got no handouts. Hell, I was lucky to get a prosthetic leg. And I’m pretty damn sure they are taking payment out somewhere else.”
Jack checked how many rounds he had left. He had one magazine in his pocket, and about five bullets in each gun.
“You never thought about moving out of here? Getting an apartment in a safer neighborhood?”
“Why the fuck should I? I grew up here. These assholes should have left a long time ago. You did us a favor.”
Jack glanced up at him. Both Jack and Jason were crouched down on the floor trying to listen for anyone coming while Dwayne shuffled around the kitchen. He brought two plates. On each was a sandwich with bologna in the middle.
“It’s not much. But…”
“Thank you.”
The two of them scarfed it down. For all they knew it could be their last meal. Jack could have sworn he’d seen one of the men coming up carrying an AK-47. His first priority right now was getting them out of here alive and finding out what had happened to Dana. As soon as he got back to the hotel he would send them both back to Rockland Cove. After that, he planned on showing up at Leo Carlone’s restaurant. Even if it meant his own life being taken, he wouldn’t have any harm come to his sister.
Not long after the men had been performing their search another group showed up to a chorus of sirens. The police crawled all over the place. They didn’t stay long though. They knew better than to linger around one of the most dangerous and roughest parts of Brooklyn. Crime had swept through here and taken over. Young kids were armed and wouldn’t think twice about blasting you in the chest with a shotgun if it meant they got more money and advancement in their gang.
“Do you see many people show up here?”
“Like who?” Dwayne asked.
“The kind of men who don’t look like they fit in?”
“Yeah, twice a month. Like clockwork. A black SUV pulls up outside, a bag is handed off to them, and they leave. I never see them get out. But I did get a license plate.” He scratched his head. “Now where did I put that?”
He shuffled around the table. His hands rooted around in a pile of papers. Dwayne’s apartment looked as if it hadn’t been cleaned in years. Piles of old papers stacked high, books, and military gear were sprawled all over the place. He didn’t look as if he cooked for himself as he didn’t even have a stove. Just a microwave. No doubt it was frozen dinners every night.
Dwayne found it and handed it over to Jack. Jack gave it back after memorizing it.
“Well, let’s see if the coast is clear,” Jack said.
Jack got up and peered out the peephole. There was no one there. He cracked the door ever so slightly and listened.
“You ready, kid?”
Jason nodded.
“Thank you, Dwayne.”
“No need to thank me. You did me a favor. Those punks got what was coming to them. By the way, exit through the laundry area. There is a door that leads out to the pool.”
Jack’s lip curled up. Dwayne was someone who understood that sometimes you had to fight. There was no other choice. What he didn’t know was how real that would become later.
Jason and Jack scurried down the hallway, raced down the stairs, and ducked into the laundry room. Within two minutes they were outside. They passed what looked like a pool. It was empty, full of garbage, and had an overturned shopping cart inside it. Jack snorted as he passed a sign that read, Paradise Apartments.
18
Dana wasn’t sure how long she had been in the trunk of the car, only that she had passed out again. When she awoke she found herself lying on a concrete floor. It was cold. She blinked hard. She felt nauseated. She hauled herself into an upright position. The skin around her wrists ached, as did her ankles. They had bound her legs and wrists with rope.
The first thing she saw was bottles of wine. Rows and rows of wine covered in dust. She was in a wine cellar. As she turned to her right, she jerked her head back, surprised to see another woman. She was younger than Dana. In her early thirties. She squinted as if trying to recall where she had seen her face. A momentary brain relapse, then she remembered a photo. It was Milly, Jack’s sister.
“Milly?”
Milly had her eyes closed, she opened them and looked at Dana. Milly looked as if someone had given her a beating. Her face was bloodied and partly swollen around the right eye.
“How do you know me?” she said in an almost inaudible voice.
“Your brother, Jack. We were coming to see you.”
“Dana?”
She nodded. Milly burst into tears.
“It’s okay. It’s okay. Jack will get us out of this.”
She had no way of knowing if he even knew where they were.
Across the city Jack was still no wiser to wh
at had happened to Dana. His thoughts were of his sister’s safety. The more he mulled over what they had done, the more he felt rage swelling inside of him. He and Jason had found the nearest hotel and ordered a taxi. As they sat waiting for it to arrive, Jack thought about the events that had put his sister in the treatment center.
At one time she had been carefree. Both of them were until his father would get drunk. The beatings came frequently. When they did, he would protect his sister by having her hide in the closet, under the bed, or out in the yard. He did anything to prevent his father turning his attention on her. The abuse she suffered at the hands of that man wasn’t just physical, it was sexual.
It had only got worse when his stepmother had shown up. She seemed to focus her rage on Milly more than Jack. It was if she felt threatened by another female in the house. Jack believed it was a combination of things that led up to the death of his father. Once Eddie caught wind of what was happening to Milly after the last beating Jack had received, that was the tipping point. Some said Eddie had beaten him with his bare hands there in the home. But Jack knew that wasn’t Eddie’s way. He wasn’t into torture. He would have acted swiftly. Taking him out with a bullet and then disposing of his body. The body later found in the Hudson River.
After his death, Eddie had taken in Milly but the trauma had been too much. She couldn’t function. She would go into herself and stare at the wall for hours. Eddie had made the decision to put her into treatment. Jack couldn’t blame him. It was hard enough trying to cope with his own responsibilities but with Milly it was too much.
There was a five-year gap between the two of them. Jack was eighteen by the time he was began working for Gafino full-time. But he was sixteen when he moved in with Eddie.
He and Eddie would take turns visiting her, hoping that she would one day snap out of the dazed state. The doctors said it could take months. It took years.
Jack let out a long breath as they got out of the taxi. When he arrived there were no police cars outside the hotel, but there were two news vans. A small crowd had gathered. The place was taped off. He saw gun holes in the window. The glass had split and shattered in some areas.
“Sorry, sir, you can’t go in there,” a security guard stepped forward.
“But I’m booked here,” Jack replied.
“What’s your room number?”
Jack gave it and the security guard went inside and spoke to the woman at the front desk. She glanced up and looked at them outside. She picked up a phone. Everything about it made him feel uneasy. While she was doing that, the security officer came outside.
He motioned for them to follow. “Sir, can you come this way.”
“Why?” Jack asked.
“It will all be explained. I just need you to come with me.”
“No, I’d prefer to wait here.”
“That wasn’t a request,” the security guard replied.
Jack knew where this was heading. In that instant he saw a uniformed officer appear inside the lobby. He immediately spun around and pushed Jason in the opposite direction.
“Run.”
The security guard caught a hold of Jack. Jack jammed the palm of his hand up into his nose, crushing it. The guard dropped to his knees. Blood went everywhere. Jack turned and bolted. People were pointing, others yelling.
“What the hell’s going on?” Jason yelled as he charged across the road. Jack dodged traffic as cars swerved erratically to avoid hitting him. Another security guard tried to chase them down. They lost him in the surge of people filling up the streets. Once they knew they were clear, they ducked into a Chinese restaurant to catch their breath.
“Come. You eat.”
A Chinese man motioned for them to take a seat. Jack waved him off and they left the building. Back out on the streets it was getting even busier. The stores and streets were lit up like a Christmas tree.
“Jack, what about my mother?” Jason asked, looking distraught.
As much as Jack didn’t want to be running from the police he had little choice. He knew, as well as any other crime family member, that Leo Carlone had informers who were police officers. They were on payroll. Who they were was anyone’s guess. Right now he needed answers. And there was only one person that would be willing to give them.
They moved through the crowd and ducked into a retail clothing store. Jack tossed the guy some money and they grabbed different jackets. They even bought New Year’s hats. They were blue and looked like a top hat. Everyone was wearing them. Right now they needed to blend in. Not that police would be able to find them very well in a city this large. But by now they would have put the word out to officers patrolling the streets.
Horns were honking, and cars were bumper to bumper as they navigated their way around the wet and cold streets. Jack pulled out the card that Frank had given him when they had released him. There was a phone number on the front. That was his official extension at the department. But scribbled on the back was his home number and address.
There was only one reason he would give him that. He wanted Jack to know that he could trust him. That whatever his involvement had been in the murder of Eddie Carmine, and the abduction of his sister, he could reach out to someone he knew. Jack knew it was a ploy; a means to gain his trust. In fact, he’d considered tossing it earlier. He was glad he’d kept it now.
Frank was no longer living in New Jersey. He had an apartment in Brooklyn. His home was located in Windsor Terrace. It was close to Greenwood Cemetery. They hopped on the F subway line and arrived in a small but quiet tree-lined neighborhood. Rows of brick houses mixed with wood frame houses that had been built in the early 1900s.
“You think he’ll be in?” Jason asked.
“If he’s not, we’ll wait.”
It took them another ten minutes from the subway station to reach his home. Jack wasn’t taking any chances. They snuck around the side and tried the back door. It was locked. He shook the windows a little until he found one that was unlocked. Sliding it up he helped Jason through, and then followed.
It was a swanky place, with Victorian décor yet made to look modern. An elegant interior with arched doorways. A warm yellow glow seeped in from under the door. They were in what looked like a study. Jack looked around. Books to do with criminology lined the table. Everything was well organized and pristine in appearance. Jack cracked the door open to find Frank asleep in a chair. A light music was playing. He moved over to the player and turned it off. Frank stirred.
“Hello?” Frank gazed out from beneath heavy lids.
Jack turned around.
“Hey, Frank,” Jack replied quietly.
Frank’s eyes darted between him and Jason.
“What are you doing here?”
Jack let out a long breath. “I need answers.”
“Jack, you need to turn yourself in. They’ve got her.”
“Dana?” he asked.
“Who else?”
“They’ve got my mother? Who has?” Jason began to look panicked.
“The Sicilian Mafia. You’ve pissed off the wrong people this time.”
“How do you know?” Jack asked.
“I saw them. Surveillance.”
“What do we do?” Jason asked.
Jack didn’t say anything.
“Jack?” Jason asked again.
“Just give me a minute to think.”
“This is about Gafino, isn’t it?” Frank asked.
In all the time he’d worked with Gafino he had only met the Sicilian Mafia twice. On both occasions they seemed like any other crime family. But what he had heard of them was brutal. Their methods for payback were never just a bullet in the head. They took things to a whole new level of sick. They made Gafino’s work look like kiddy play.
“You want a drink?” Frank asked.
Jack’s eyes shifted to Frank. He nodded.
“A drink?” Jason looked perplexed. “We need to get my mother back.”
“And we will. Take a seat,”
Jack said.
Jack wasn’t in the mood for baby-sitting. His mind was running a mile a minute. He envisioned the worst. He tried to make sense of what their end game was. They always had one. Sometimes it was money. Mostly, it was revenge. Nothing more.
“Do you think they’ll kill them?” Jason asked.
“No. They want me. Then, they might.”
Jason slumped down in a chair, his hands over his face.
“This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have gone to see that guy. I shouldn’t have even come along. If it had just been you two, you wouldn’t have come looking for me.”
“Jason, don’t. What’s done is done.”
Frank handed Jack a drink. He downed it in one go. It did little to alleviate the anxiety he was feeling. He had no game plan. No sense of how to approach this other than using pure violence.
“Let us help. Give up the details on Gafino,” Frank said.
“I’m not going back to Rikers, Frank.”
“Either way you lose here, Jack. You go in there guns blazing, you are not only liable to get yourself killed, but even if you do make it out, they are going to put you inside and toss the key away.”
“I just need time to think this through.”
“There is no time,” Frank replied.
A few minutes passed. Jack stared into the fire. He chuckled as he heard the sound of sirens in the distance. Frank had made the call when he went to pour him a drink.
“Take care of the kid,” Jack said.
“Jack?”
“Jack, you can’t leave me here,” Jason said.
“No, you need to stay with him.”
“But my mother.”
“Frank,” Jack said as he got up.
Frank nodded. As the sirens got louder, Jack went to the back door, unlocked it. He cast a final glance over his shoulder at Jason and then disappeared into the night.