Murder Has Consequences

by Giacomo Giammatteo

  Donna turned to go, but I yanked her back “I didn’t forget that it was you who begged me to save Bugs. That night cost me ten years of my life and I don’t forget shit like that.” I nodded to Bobby, who was standing to the side, staring at us. I started to walk away but turned back. “One more thing. I’m cutting you some slack because of your father, but you better not cause trouble for Angie or Rosa.”

  Bobby yanked her to the side, grilling her. He looked pissed.

  I said goodbye to Mrs. Donovan and Frankie’s other sisters, then found Angie and explained the situation to her. “Call when you’re ready and I’ll pick you up.”

  “No need to. We’ll get a ride. Are you going home?”

  Rosa poked her head into our conversation. “Drop me off at Abbie’s, please?”

  “You can stay here and help,” Angie said.

  I shook my head. “No need for her to stay. I’ll drop her off. I might go play cards or stop by Teddy’s. Either way, I won’t be too late.”

  Angie kissed me. “Night, babe.”

  I smiled. She hadn’t called me that in a long time, but whenever she did it brought a smile to my face, reminding me of our younger days. Angie always worked magic with me.

  I leaned in and kissed her again. “Night, babe,” I said back to her then headed for the door.

  CHAPTER 8

  Drinks at the Bar

  Wilmington, Delaware

  Bobby Campisi had hold of Donna’s shoulders, shaking her. “What did he mean by that? He said you begged him to go. Go where? When?”

  Frankie came up behind them and tore Bobby away from his sister. “Cut the shit! Both of you.” He stared at Donna. “What the hell is wrong with you? Mom’s on the couch crying, and you’re over here fighting.” He got close to Donna. “If you can’t act civil, leave.” He turned to Bobby. “That goes for you, too. Straighten up or get out.”

  “That’s an easy decision for me,” Bobby said. He didn’t slam the door when he left, but he closed it hard.

  Donna acted as if she would go for him, but Frankie stopped her. “Let him go. He’ll be back.”

  She wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. “I’m sorry, Frankie. You know how he gets.”

  “That’s no excuse for your behavior. And trust me, you don’t want him to get crosswise with Nicky.”

  “Bobby can take care of himself.”

  Frankie shook his head. “Not with Nicky.”

  By ten thirty Bobby hadn’t returned and Donna’s worry showed each moment. She pestered Frankie for the third time since Bobby left. “Find him, Frankie. He should have been home by now.”

  “Yeah, and I shouldn’t have to go find him. That asshole is your problem.”

  “Just tonight, okay. I need him.”

  Frankie looked at his watch and sighed. “Where does he normally go.”

  “There are a couple of places, but when he wants company he usually goes to Teddy’s.”

  Frankie pointed at her before heading for the door. “Take care of Mom while I’m gone.”

  ***

  I THOUGHT ABOUT GOING home, but that didn’t sit well, and I didn’t feel like playing cards, so I drove by to see if Marty Ferris was at Teddy’s. He went there a lot during the week to catch a game and down a few beers. The parking lot was full, but I saw Marty’s car. I parked across the street and went inside. A couple of guys said hi as I made my way across the old hardwood floors to a seat at the bar, two down from where Marty Ferris sat. Jack McDermott was at the other end. I nodded to him, hadn’t spoken to him since prison. I never liked Jack much, but he helped me a few times in the joint, and he was the Mick’s brother.

  Fred was working this end. I signaled for him to bring me a beer, motioning at the same time to buy one for Marty. He delivered mine, set one in front of Marty and told him where it came from.

  Marty looked down at me, a smile on his face until he saw who it was, then he shoved it aside. “I don’t need your beer, Fusco.”

  I moved a seat up so I was sitting next to him. “No need for us to be hostile. I’m buying you a drink is all.”

  “Don’t try playing your games. You don’t scare me.”

  “I’m not trying to scare you, Marty. Just reason with you. I’m Rosa’s father and she doesn’t want you around anymore.”

  Marty downed a shot then a half a mug of beer, wiped his mouth and smiled. “How’s it feel to be gettin’ seconds of everything? I was your daughter’s father before you, and I was banging Angela while you were in prison.” He laughed and then drained the mug.

  I gripped the edge of the bar. The things I could do to him raced through my mind, but this was neither the place nor the time. “There’s no reason to talk like that. I don’t want any trouble.”

  “I know you don’t want trouble from me. You caught me by surprise that day in the park. That won’t happen again.”

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a ten, set it on the bar for Fred. “All I’m saying is, think about it. You might reconsider.” I walked out then, alert in case he tried something. By the time I reached the door a plan was formulating. It wasn’t going to be pretty for Marty.

  I sat in the car and played an anagram game on my phone while I waited for Marty to come out. Teddy’s was popular tonight. I must have seen eight or ten guys I knew going in, including that asshole husband of Donna’s, Bobby Campisi. I wondered what he was doing here; he should have been at Bugs’ house. I thought about going over and kicking his ass, but put it off. That could wait for another day, too.

  After playing a few more games I saw Bugs park his car and go inside. What the hell is going on?

  Bugs being here ruined my plans for Marty, but it gave me a new idea, one Marty would like even less than what I originally planned.

  After leaving Teddy’s I borrowed a truck from one of the job sites and put a large metal toolbox in the back. I drove to the canal banks and found a remote spot, then dug a nice deep hole. Very deep. Didn’t want animals digging things up. I set the toolbox in the hole and covered it up with brush and then returned the truck and went home. I went to sleep on the couch so I didn’t wake Angie.

  ***

  FRANKIE STORMED INTO TEDDY’S place, making no attempt to hide his displeasure. Bobby was sitting next to Jack McDermott, both of them with a shot and a beer. Frankie had a strong urge to smack Bobby, but he managed to calm himself before he got to the bar.

  “Hey, Bobby, what’s going on?”

  Bobby turned on the stool, staring at Frankie. “Donna send you?”

  “You know she did.”

  “I figured as much.” Bobby threw down a shot, signaled Fred for a refill, and motioned for Frankie to sit. “Don’t get me wrong, Frankie, I love your sister, but she can be a ball-buster.”

  Frankie let out a small don’t-I-know type chuckle. “Bobby, no need to tell me about women. My marriage lasted eight months.”

  Fred came over with another shot for Bobby, nodded to Frankie. “You drinkin’?”

  Reaching for money, Bobby said, “Fred, this is my brother-in-law, Frankie Donovan. Get him whatever he wants.”

  A smile lit Fred’s face. “Frankie! No shit. I ain’t seen you since you were a kid.”

  Frankie laughed. “If I remember that’s when you and Teddy were chasing me and Tony Sannullo down Fourth Street.”

  Fred seemed to go back in time, eyes in a trance. “The good old days, huh.” Then he got serious. “But hey, I heard about your dad. I’m sorry.”

  “Thanks, Fred. It was a surprise to all of us.”

  “I heard about Tony, too. I don’t know if that requires a condolence, but if so…”

  “Not necessary. Tony got what he deserved.”

  Fred nodded as he wiped the counter. “So what’ll you have? It’s on me.”

  “You got any cello?”

  “Limoncello? You bet. Frozen glasses, or on ice?”

  “Frozen, and make it two. They go down easy.”

  Bobby set his mug on the
counter. “All this booze goes down easy. That’s the problem. But I’m gonna fix that, along with everything else.”

  “How’s that?” Frankie asked.

  “I’m going to take care of Donna and the baby, and I’ll make your mother proud of me.” He sipped on his beer again. “All the old man ever talked about was Frankie, the hero cop.”

  Frankie’s eyes went wide. “My old man?”

  Bobby looked at him. “What, you never knew?”

  “We didn’t talk much.”

  Bobby took a long gulp of beer and signaled for a refill. “Your family is so fucked up.”

  “I know that, but there’s no sense in making yours that way. Donna needs you, and—”

  Bobby turned in his seat, facing Frankie. “Don’t come down here from New York and tell me how to run my family. You sit up there and don’t do shit for years on end, leaving me to deal with Donna and your wacko mother and then—”

  “Go easy, Bobby. Don’t talk about my mother like that.”

  “I’m the one that’s been dealing with your father and your sister and the rest of your loony family, so don’t preach to me.”

  “I’m not preaching, just asking you not to talk that way about my family.”

  “I’m telling you, your mother and Donna are cut from the same cloth. They’re both nuts.”

  The words hurt, but the truth usually did. Frankie poked his finger into Bobby’s chest. “Shut-up about my family.”

  “Get the fuck out of here. This ain’t your goddamn bar.

  “It sure as shit ain’t your bar.”

  “It’s gonna be, and before too long.”

  “What? Donna says you don’t have a pot to piss in.”

  “She’s a whore anyway, just like her mother.”

  Frankie grabbed Bobby’s mug of beer and smashed it against his head, knocking him off the stool. Hunched over and swaying, Bobby came at Frankie. Frankie hit him in the face with a solid right, then followed up with a knee to the groin. Bobby fell to his knees, hands supporting him from the floor. Frankie kicked him in the side, sprawling him out, sunny side up.

  Bobby lay there, bleeding from the head and nose. He wasn’t getting up. Frankie leaned over top of him. “You ever say anything about my mother again and I’ll kill you.” He tossed a twenty on the counter, downed the cellos Fred had set there, grabbed his smokes and left.

  Frankie slammed the door as he walked out of the bar. He got into the car and started for home, deciding at the last minute to see if Nicky was around. It would be nice to have someone to talk to before he went back to all the grief and bullshit that waited for him, especially from Donna. She’d been a pain in the ass all of his life.

  Frankie turned onto Beech Street, recalling the address from the letter Nicky sent, and parked in front of the house. His car wasn’t there, but Frankie didn’t know if he had walked or driven home. He rang the doorbell, then knocked, but no answer. He thought about going home, but decided to check the smoke shop. When he didn’t find Nicky, he decided to call it a night. A few minutes later, he walked through his mother’s front door.

  Donna ran up to him. “Did you find him?”

  “I found him but he didn’t come home with me.”

  She looked down at Frankie’s hands, blood still staining them. Anger flared in her eyes. “What did you do? Is Bobby all right?”

  “You want to baby him? Go scoop him off the floor at Teddy’s. All I did was give Bobby what he’s needed for years. I should have done it long ago, at Woodside.”

  Donna looked around, then threw out an angry whisper. “You killed his brother. Wasn’t that enough?”

  Frankie got as close as he could to her ear. “I’m through with this conversation. In case you forgot, our father’s dead, and Mom needs us.” As he finished talking he looked to the side and saw Angie approaching.

  “Frankie, did you see Nicky? I’ve been trying to call him and I get no answer.”

  “I didn’t see him, but maybe he went to the smoke shop to play cards. If you need a ride, I’ll drive you.”

  Angie shrugged. “I hate to ask you…”

  “Don’t mention it,” he said, and grabbed her arm. “Get Rosa. I’ll get the food.”

  “Rosa went to a friend’s house,” she said. “And I’m leaving the food here. I’ll come tomorrow to clean. I’ll have more food for the funeral, too.”

  Frankie kissed her cheek. “You’re the best, Angie. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “There’s no need for thanks. You know that.”

  ***

  FRED AND TWO OTHER patrons helped Bobby Campisi clean himself up. He refused hospital treatment, saying he’d be all right by morning. Jack McDermott watched it all then picked up his drink and moved about five seats up the bar, plopping down next to Marty Ferris.

  Marty glared at him as if he were intruding. “Plenty of empty seats.”

  “Yeah, I know, but call me a concerned citizen.”

  “Concerned about what?”

  “Not about you, if that’s the confusing part. I saw the way you talked to Nicky. Not real smart.”

  “What business is it of yours?”

  “I don’t want him going back to jail over some asshole like you.”

  “I’m not worried. You saw him leave. I don’t guess he wants trouble from me.” Marty flexed the muscles on his forearms. “These butcher arms will teach him a thing or two.”

  “I don’t think you understand, Marty. Nicky didn’t leave because he was afraid of you. He left so he didn’t kill you in front of everyone.” Jack looked around, eyes darting to the corners of the bar. “If I were you, I’d be careful going home, and even more careful once you got there.”

  Marty brushed it off. “I told you, I ain’t scared of him.”

  “Yeah, well that’s mistake number one. Mistake number two would be leaving here alone.” Jack finished his beer then stood. “I’m heading out. See you around, Marty.”

  ***

  DONNA PACED THE LIVING room floor, her eyes darting to the door at the slightest sound. She walked over, pulled the curtains aside and looked up and down the street, then continued her ritual.

  “What’s wrong, dear?” her mother asked from the sofa.

  “Nothing, Mom. I’m upset about Dad, that’s all.”

  “Where’s Bobby?”

  “He drove some people home. He’ll be back soon.”

  Mrs. Donovan nodded her head and went back to the almost catatonic state she’d been in, her hands folded in her lap and eyes staring at the wall opposite her. Donna walked toward the kitchen, brushing past several people as she made her way through the dining room. Frankie was out back catching a smoke. When he came inside, Donna cornered him.

  “Bobby’s not back yet, and Mom’s asking about him. What happened at Teddy’s?”

  “I kicked his ass. That’s what happened.”

  Donna chewed on fingernails that had already been gnawed to stubs. “I’ll bet Nicky did something to him. I’m calling the cops.”

  Frankie grabbed her arm. “You’re not calling anybody. And Nicky wasn’t even there.”

  Donna yanked her arm away. “Something’s wrong. Bobby wouldn’t stay away like this.”

  He clenched his teeth and shook his head. “All right, I’ll go back to the bar, but call me if he comes home while I’m gone. The last goddamn thing I want to be doing is searching bars for your asshole husband.” He slammed his hand against the wall, then headed out the back door and down the walk.

  Frankie went back to Teddy’s but nobody had seen Bobby since the fight, so Frankie hit a few other bars, with no success. I wonder where he is? After a few more stops at local hangouts, Frankie headed home.

  Donna met him on the sidewalk, halfway to the door. She must have been watching out the window.

  “Did you find him?”

  Frankie shook his head. “Nothing. I went to Teddy’s, and every other bar I know. Nobody’s seen him.”

  She buried her fa
ce in her hands and bawled. “Something’s wrong. I know it.”

  Frankie hugged her, patting her back as he did. “I’m sure he’s all right. Don’t worry.” He kissed her cheek. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep. When you wake up, I’m sure he’ll be here. We’ve got a big day tomorrow taking care of Mom. She’s going to be a mess at the funeral.”

  Donna sobbed. “You’re right. I should get some sleep.” She started toward the house but turned and hugged Frankie. “Thanks. I’m sorry I’ve been so irrational.”

  “Don’t worry. You want me to wake you when he comes home?”

  “Just tell Bobby to, but tell him to be quiet.”

  “Okay, big sis. Goodnight.”

  She kissed his cheek. “Buona notte, Francis.”

  Frankie laughed. “Call me that again and I’ll kick your ass.”

  As he walked down the steps, Frankie wondered where Bobby really was, and why he hadn’t come home. Something was wrong, and it wasn’t going to be good when Donna found out.

  CHAPTER 9

  Another Funeral

  Wilmington, Delaware

  Detective Jimmy Borelli woke on the first ring of the phone, got out of bed and answered before the third ring. “Borelli.”

  “Get dressed, Jimmy. We got a body.”

  “Where?”

  “Canby Park, the other side of the tracks by the creek.”

  “Near the Lion’s Den?”

  “Bingo.”

  “See you there.”

  ***

  AT THE FIRST RAYS of sunlight Donna woke in a panic. She ran down the hall and banged on Frankie’s door.

  “What the hell!” Frankie got out of bed and flung the door open. “Jesus Christ, Donna. Have some respect.”

  Tears stained her face. “I told you something happened. He’s not home. There’s no way Bobby would miss Dad’s funeral. No way.”

  Frankie furrowed his brow. He had to admit that missing the funeral would be stretching it, even for Bobby. He held her close and talked softly. “Go make coffee. I’ll be right down and we’ll figure this out.”