by S. W. Frank
“Yeah, bring it on.” The teasing ended with a sigh. “Giuseppe isn’t going to like this.”
“Giuseppe will accept his mom’s an adult.”
Nico shook his head in abject misery. “This guy is former Israeli Intelligence. He and Sophie were friends in the past. I met him when I was a teenager and during that time he dealt mainly in arms.”
“Wait, I thought you said he was in law enforcement.”
“Was, is the past tense. He was corrupt with a glowing reputation and then he changed to a career which paid better.”
“Well, Sophie likes bad boys.”
Nico looked Alfonzo in the eye. “This one’s out on parole after doing time for drug possession and conspiracy.”
Alfonzo straightened. Nico had his attention. Mention illegal drugs or underage prostitution in proximity to the Giacanti’s and Alfonzo’s ears perked up.
“I did some digging and found out he was released five years early for good behavior, but bribery ensured there wasn’t a change of heart from the parole board.”
“And, what else Nico?”
Nico stretched out a leg. He scanned the scenery. “Imagine a scholar a thousand years from now reading history. I wonder when he reads the atrocities to people, whether he deems ignorance is bliss.” Nico scoffed. “There are abuses that could have been prevented had the world paid attention. Media brainwashing, the inability to ask questions or think logically I believe remains the affliction of too many. Hitler nearly succeeded in extermination an entire people and when you think, how he managed to dupe others, there’s more of an appreciation on the impact media and charming orators have an audience. Brainwashing can be subtle; architecture can dwarf humans to insect size. Large statues of a dictator are strategically designed to make others feel small. Smiling children, pictures of amenities and assurances to the inquisitive governments that the Jewish detainees are not mistreated, but well-fed, given showers and fresh air, but they’re being starved, gassed and experimented on to make lamps with their skin.”
“There are many atrocities, past and present Nico, we’re living in a fucked up world.”
“Sí, I agree. Master psychology of the people, make horror palatable with words and beautiful images because many cannot cope with brutal reality. They are afraid to investigate or confront what they instinctively know. It is the knowing and then the test of what to do with such knowledge. Only the bravest will act, others are too fearful cugino to lose a limb, material items or to die. Fear to act is why atrocities occur.”
Alfonzo listened. Nico had to have a point to all of this because this is the most Nico spoke in years.
“Imagine the pain of the survivors of the Holocaust and their descendants. A painting of a family, a child’s doll purchased on a vacation, a ring passed on through the generations pilfered by murderers and thieves are the heartache they carry.”
“Sí,” Alfonzo stated.
“What would you do if you could retrieve a tangible item that belonged to your mother or brother who died in horror?”
“You know what I’d do.”
Then Nico released the Atomic Bomb. “Yosef Glavovitz is vile, but he is not evil. Lamps made from the skins of Jews is evil, vile is ensuring that if you die, so does the woman you are now bedding.”
“Qué?”
“You heard me. That sonovabitch has Sophie’s life on a timer. The victims of the Holocaust had families. The politician in Israel was one. That bargain for discounted armaments Sophie brokered behind Carlo’s back came with a promise to help Yosef avoid detention. She promised to help him retrieve a family portrait of this high-ranking official’s parents who were murdered at Auschwitz. Yosef did not deliver because Sophie reneged. Yosef went to prison, but here’s the kicker, although this official is dead, he issued a reprieve on the Shabbat to Yosef, a stay of execution for three months to return the artwork to his family. Once this is fulfilled, the reprieve extends for the duration of Yosef’s life and that of his mishpucha.”
“His what?”
“That’s Yiddish for family.”
“Oh. Well we get rid of him and end this nonsense.”
“He dies, Sophie does too.”
“I’m lost; Sophie has no part in this reprieve crap.”
“Sophie was the middle-woman. She goes the moment the painting is recovered.”
“Not unless we learn who the contractor is.”
Nico frowned. “Alfonzo, I told you a story. Piece together what I’m saying kid and understand that Sophie’s death will come no matter how many guns we have.”
Alfonzo cursed and then sighed. “Are you telling me this is a religious sanction by a government?”
Nico had the same reaction when he heard the tale. He spent all day seeking to confirm the conspiracy. He hated to tell Alfonzo, fanatics exist even among those in clerical robes and gavels. “What do you think?”
“Dammit Nico, you have become Alberti!” Alfonzo fumed. There’s no way they could tell Giuseppe, he’d want to war nations. “What are the alternatives?”
“Return the portrait if we can find it.”
“What do you mean, if we can find it primo?”
“Sophie said Carlo removed the artwork.”
“¡Coño!” Alfonzo exclaimed. “Do you think Giuseppe knows where Carlo placed the damn thing?”
“I’m not sure.”
“We have to ask without telling him all of this.”
“There’s another problem even when we do locate the painting.”
“Mierda! Go ahead make my ride home a headache.”
“Yosef’s married. He’s in the process of a divorce which may take months.”
“Whoa.”
“Yes.”
“Nico, this isn’t good. I have the law slithering my way, we have that issue to handle, and then-,” he stopped midsentence. The potential legal problems and Selange’s behavior wasn’t for Nico’s ears. He’d handle his personal issues; complaining didn’t change anything except heighten the frustration.
“And then what?”
“Nothing…I’ll deal with it.”
Nico squinted. “You sure kid?”
“I’m sure,” he said but he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.
Nico nodded. “There was a time when we could talk candidly cugino. I am aware of what occurred in New York. Do you need me to rid you of the Johnsons?”
Alfonzo turned sideways. Nico’s solution to most things was killing. But, how can someone murder a feeling that his wife was falling out of trust?
“No, Nico. If it comes to that then so be it. The Johnsons aren’t a priority. Even if Mrs. Johnson does press charges as long as Selange doesn’t step foot in New York, we’re fine.”
“Tell her that. Make it crystal clear.”
“I plan to.” Alfonzo switched topics. “Let me know when Tony returns. We need to talk. I want to make sure he won’t have a problem with my brother. I have an inkling Geo’s going to hit on his future sister-in-law. I want it explicitly understood my brother’s blood and there’s never a conflict where I’ll stand.”
Nico chuckled. “Everybody has an ax to grind with fat-head.”
“I don’t want any problems in my house over a woman other than my wife.”
“Too late, you inherited a shitload of problems, Sophie for example.”
“Stop reminding me. I thought I had problems back in the day, but I swear had I known what problems really were, I’d cleaned up my act and gone straight.”
“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Nico said as they crossed a landscape of dying grass. “The outcome would be the same. You’d be here; the destination wouldn’t have changed.”
Alfonzo grunted. “Spoil the delusion. You and Giuseppe have a way of making abnormal seem normal.”
“Whatever life you’re given has meaning; sometimes you need to understand there isn’t a refund policy, this way you won’t seek an exchange.”
“Oh shit Al
berti, I’m out, catch you later,” Alfonzo replied as his legs moved faster toward the shiny automobile where armed men waited. He wanted to hurry home to inquire how the children fared at school and try to broker a peace agreement with his wife.
Nico stopped to light a cigar, squinting as he did so. He watched Alfonzo pull off. Alfonzo settled in his seat. A contented smile played on his lips. Nico had really taken on some of his father’s mannerisms. Alfonzo doubted Nico realized he had. Crazy, after all these years, he thought, how he hadn’t lost the human shadow or the wisdom of an elder.
Yeah, Alberti and Vincent remained alive through Nicolo aka ‘Nico’ Serano.
CHAPTER NINE
Tiffany and Nicole were in robes and slippers lounging on the sofa when Tony arrived home. They were laughing up a storm as they reminisced while pouring over childhood photos.
“Hey ladies, still up I see,” he said and flopped down on the sofa next to his fiancé, peering across her lap at the pigtail girls hugging in the picture.
Tiffany gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Hi there soon to be husband, Nicole and I are looking at how terribly unfashionable we were.”
Tiffany’s sister Nicole pointed at the picture. “Speak for yourself; I put my stamp on whatever I had on. Look at that bright ribbon in my hair. I look good if I must say so myself.”
Tony smiled. He liked Nicole, free spirited is what he loved about his Tiffany and Nicole had the same attitude in droves. She wasn’t a dancer, no; she was an artiste, a pianist who performed around the world.
Whatever gene was in their family, he hoped their future children received at least a strand, that’s if he and Tiffany ever had kids or reached an altar. The way things were looking, their plans might have unexpected delays.
Tiffany’s smile diminished, something was on her mind. He could tell. Her mouth did a twisting action from side to side whenever there was a burning desire to speak, but first she had to consider a tactful approach. “Guess who spoiled our girl day?” she said.
Tony shrugged, he didn’t have a clue. He preferred straight to the point conversations. “No idea, tell me who?”
“Your boss’ brother ran up on us like a DT. We didn’t know what the hell was going on.”
This news made Tony tense. “What do you mean ran up on you, what exactly did he do?”
“He said we shouldn’t be in a public place without security, basically it’s not safe.” Tiffany gave him a questioning stare. “Should I be concerned about my safety?”
“First of all, my boss’ brother shouldn’t have scared you ladies. Secondly, I had planned to tell you due to the high-profile person I work for you’ll have a chauffeur slash bodyguard from now on.”
“I understand who you work for but do I need to fear for my life simply walking on a street?”
“No, you don’t. You didn’t do that in New York or anywhere else. You’re smart enough to gauge if there are any dangers and avoid risks.”
“I certainly can and don’t need some stranger dictating my movements when my man doesn’t even do that.”
Tony’s shoulders relaxed. “Damn right.”
“That Giuseppe needs a stint in obedience school he’s so rude,” Nicole commented. “Your boss was cool Tony. He is fine as hell I might add, but darn the men with sense are always married.” Nicole laughed as she pointed to her sister’s ring finger and then at Tony. “Hint…hint.”
“There’s no need to hint. Marrying your sister is the smartest thing I can do,” Tony replied, but his mind had drifted to Giuseppe Dichenzo, wondering where he came off butting his nose in his personal business. Nico had already assigned someone to his family and he was due to start in the morning. He took note to bring this to Nico’s attention. Let a relative deal with that fucker. Tony didn’t trust he’d keep a professional composure if addressed Giuseppe. He understood the rules; disrespect a Boss and you might as well put a bullet in your own mouth. But, at the same time, he wasn’t some punk ass gofer, either.
“Well good because I was beginning to think you were slow,” Nicole said which resulted in a stern stare from Tony which she ignored. Nicole yawned. “I hate to leave the party early but tomorrow we have a big day.” She tapped her little sister’s leg. “Don’t forget we have a lot to do before I leave. And Tony do not have her up too late or I’ll come in your bedroom and drag you out kicking and screaming with us.”
“I have an early morning myself. I have to go out of town on business for a day or two.”
“What?” Tiffany said. “Darn. I guess tonight I better make sure I have enough Tony to last until you return.”
“I swear if you guys keep too much noise I’m banging on the wall!”
Tony smirked. “So you’re going to cock-block while you’re here?”
Nicole used her ass to push off the sofa. “Look, you’re allotted make out sessions when it doesn’t interfere with wedding plans. This wedding is overdue, you’ve been hitting it free for years, now it’s time to stop dicking around and honor my sister.” She waved over her shoulder as she climbed the stairs. “One hour sex time, afterward, take your horny butts to sleep. Nobody wants to hear ‘oooh…ah…oh yes’ all night!”
Tony laughed. Once Nicole was out of sight he shook his head. “Aw man, I forgot how she is.”
“I didn’t,” Tiffany smiled as she closed the photo album and sitting it on the coffee table. “By the way Nicole loves the villa and the garden and the fact we’re getting married in Italy. She has a crush on this place, methinks.”
Tony put an arm around his fiancée as she leaned on his chest. “Methinks she’s not moving in.”
Tiffany giggled. “I concur. Imagine having her traipsing through here every day.”
“I can’t.” He caressed Tiffany’s arm. “Are you happy?”
“I’ve always been happy Tony; I’m excited to officially become your wife at the moment.”
Tony asked. “So how far along in the wedding preparations are you?”
“Well, we’ve already located a beautiful little church in Messina and a priest to officiate who speaks English. We have the guest list down to fifty. I didn’t want the hassle of a huge wedding, but you have to tell me if there’s any one you want to invite other than your immediate family. I have your Uncle Ray with a question mark, I know you said he’s an alcoholic and starts mess everywhere he goes. I’ve already spoken to your mom.” She reclined to his lap and looked up at his chin. “How come you didn’t tell her we moved?”
“My mom and I haven’t been on good terms for a while, you know that.”
“But, Tony sweetheart, a common courtesy is telling her you’re leaving the country so the poor woman won’t think you died.”
Tony stretched his legs. He didn’t confide to his fiancée the reason he didn’t speak with his mom a lot was he tired of her negative comments. The woman didn’t have anything positive to say about anybody but Jesus Christ. Whew, speaking to someone that judgmental made conversation a chore. Last time they spoke she blamed Tiffany for why he barely visited. His infrequent trips south had nothing to do with his fiancée, he simply hated when his mom brought up his stint in prison or his ex-wife’s name. Why his past remained a topic of discussion when he moved on is the part he didn’t understand. He didn’t need reminders of his former struggles. The preoccupation with highlighting his stumbles was a reflection of a sour individual.
“If I had, she’d be at your door looking for the insurance policy or contesting my will.”
Tiffany slapped his hand. “Tony, that’s mean.”
“Just telling the truth,” he said and then began to think. Damn, his mom would do that, wouldn’t she?
He decided not to broa
ch the venue concern. Wherever they were married he’d ensure there was proper security. Marrying Tiffany to avoid anybody staking claim to what he earned became a top priority.
“You can’t leave out Uncle Ray. He’ll come just to make a scene. I hope you invited Mr. and Mrs. Diaz.”
“They’re on the list.”
He thought about others. “Nico and his family.”
Tiffany bolt forward. “Okay now this is where I put the brakes on. No offense Tony, but do you really want a guy like that at our ceremony mingling with family. They’ll ask questions and he might say something dark. Do you listen when he’s talking, he’s scary.”
“Nico goes on the list. You asked and that’s what I want,” he said emphatically. Besides, what better protection is there than a mob enforcer?
***
Giuseppe lifted his son on his shoulders. “Ah, you are heavy, what has Nonna Sophie fed you?”
“I want mama,” Carlo said as he held on to his father’s head as Giuseppe carried him outside.
Giuseppe halted to slide the child down his arm. The toddler had noticed his mama was not around. Of course he would…of course a child recognizes the absence of a heart that once beat very loud has silenced.
“Mama misses us as we miss her,” Giuseppe said sadly and then he knelt to the ground to look upon his son. “Today, papa will take you to the zoo, sí?”
The smile made Giuseppe’s heart lighter. He had planned to go to the office and leave the boy with his mama, but plans change. He stood, holding the small hand and they walked to the awaiting limo. He had to make a stop first. The zoo did not open on Friday until noon.
He instructed the driver there had been a change of schedule. He recited an address and leaned back to talk to his son. “What happened to Nonna’s table?”
The child shrugged.
Giuseppe had noticed his mama had replaced the dining furniture when he picked up Carlo yesterday. He asked why and she said she wanted to update the furnishings, something about scratches that were an eyesore. He had not noticed any such thing. There were also new cabinets in the kitchen. Were marks visible there as well?