Bloody Shadows

by Bernard Lee DeLeo

  “I refuse,” Grace said. “Rachel will kill me if I get him involved in something else close to home.”

  “Yeah, I’m really sure that’s eating at you,” Nick replied. “Spit it out before Gus, John, and Dan get back from paying off our helpers, and cautioning them all to stay low key. One thing you’ll have to realize is I’ll be meeting obligations for book signings in four different venues between here and Centalia. I will not be in Pacific Grove for two weeks.”

  “We have a problem in Santa Cruz with a mob guy opening a protection racket down on the Boardwalk area motels. You’ve been there I’m sure with as close as it is to you. The motels in the area are old, and have a seedy worn out look about them. One of our people in the Witness Protection program works as a manager at one of them. She claims this guy, Chino Salermo is using one of the gangs in the area to shake down the small independent motel owners. We were told to stay out of it, and let the local police handle it. The only problem is our witness is due to testify in the murder case they built in New York City against Lino Verducci. Tim and I figured we’d yank our witness out of Santa Cruz, but she has a couple of teenage boys who love it there. She says if we move her, she won’t testify.”

  “So give her a stipend to stay on a vacation leave until she testifies against Lino. Nice catch by the way. The East River in New York probably has at least a score of weighted bodies who crossed Lino. If you minions of justice would think about using… hey… wait a minute. I smell a rat. Why would you two be fretting over a WITSEC problem? You two are head district honchos now. After this Seattle Ripper exposure, you two will be golden at the DOJ. Why aren’t you ordering full time US Marshal protectors for this sweet-pea in Santa Cruz from your staff of minions? C’mon, tell Uncle Nicky the whole story or Uncle Nicky walks away right now. I’m tired of being fed this crap one factoid at a time.”

  “I told you Grace. Tell him.”

  “I should turn in my badge for even thinking it. That’s why,” Grace admitted. “This is the first time Salermo has surfaced in two years. We think he was hiding out in Columbia. Salermo worked for Verducci as a mob enforcer a few years back. He killed my Uncle Joe in New York when Joe wouldn’t pay protection money on his bakery in Queens. Salermo ordered the hit through a street gang near Joe’s shop. The cops got the ‘banger that did the killing, but couldn’t indict Salermo even though they got the ‘banger to point the finger at him. The kid was shanked at Rikers while waiting for the DA to make up his mind whether to deal for Salermo. The prick disappeared until now. Word was he’s been in Columbia making contacts for Verducci.”

  “You have my attention,” Nick replied. “I don’t like coincidences either. Are you thinking Salermo’s staking out the Santa Cruz area for Verducci, and possibly taking out the key witness against Lino? That would mean either you have another leak in the program or your witness screwed up. Which is it?”

  “One of the damn teenagers called his old girlfriend back in New York on a burner phone, so he thought he was cool like in the movies. Chino doesn’t know who the witness is yet, but it’s only a matter of time. We did exactly like you advised, and had our witness take a leave of absence. She’ll probably have to make a decision – die in Santa Cruz or let us relocate her to New Mexico or some other desert spot.” Grace pointed at Nick, who was smiling. “I know what you’re thinking, you prick.”

  “No you don’t. If you knew what I was thinking, you’d probably try and arrest me.”

  Grace gestured with her hand in a come on fashion. “Lay it on me, Muerto.”

  “I’m thinking of the look on Rachel’s face when I tell her I’m going to Santa Cruz when we get back to Pacific Grove, and kill Chino Salermo. Then, I’m going to New York and kill Lino Verducci just so I can do it, tell you I’m doing it, give this woman’s life back to her, and turn the justice system upside down.”

  “Works for me,” Tim stated.

  “Tim?” Grace turned on her partner with a look of shock.

  “Oh come on, Grace. Get the stunned look off your face. If you didn’t want Nick to do exactly what he outlined just now, or something very close to it, what the hell did you expect him to do – go to Santa Cruz and hold the woman’s hand?”

  “He’s doing it again! He’s spewing out killer solutions outside the law, and rubbing our noses in it.”

  “He’s rubbing in a whole lot of payback for your Uncle Joe too. I don’t mind pretending the law works,” Tim said. “When crimes are committed by run of the mill people, the law works pretty well. Where gangs can reach into our prisons, kill witnesses, terrorize potential witnesses, and do whatever the hell they want, I get a little tired of mouthing the mantra of working within the law. The people who wrote the laws never imagined the day where organized crime would simply kill anyone who made the laws work. If Nick hadn’t brought in his own crew to trap the Ripper, we would have never gotten him either.”

  “We’ve sold our souls to the devil,” Grace muttered, her head down.

  “That’s the spirit,” Nick said. “Hey… I think I resent that.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Book Signings and Justice

  Rachel watched Nick’s cohorts ambling around their room, making drinks, and stealing glances at her when they thought she wasn’t looking. For his part, Nick stayed in the kitchen, helping to make and pass out refreshments, avoiding her since saying hello upon his return. She knew they sprung the trap earlier in the day, and were mostly without sleep for the better part of two days. To her, The Unholy Trio and their Geezer mascot seemed far too cheerful. Jean was sipping a soda, staying near Nick so as to accumulate information with Deke next to her.

  “Okay, this has gone on far enough. Who am I going to have to beat the story out of? John. Don’t look away from me. What the hell is going on?” Rachel invaded John’s airspace, grabbing his chin and shaking it. “Tell me! You are in my power. You will tell me everything.”

  “Muerto took another hit for right after we get back to Pacific Grove. He was supposed to tell you as soon as he walked in, but when he didn’t I knew you would try and torture the information from us. Unhand me, woman! Muerto! Do something, you spineless jellyfish.”

  “Nice one, John,” Nick replied. “It took you only five seconds to throw me under the bus. I’m demoting you back to minion for this horrendous lack of fortitude and loyalty.”

  “Don’t blame John, Muerto,” Dan said. “We’ve been listening to your new gig, and how you were going to sell it to Princess Bump all the way from Seattle. The moment you get in the door, you head for the liquid courage, and clam up like a sprung bear trap.”

  “Et tu, Dan?” Nick borrowed and reworked the famous line of Julius Cesar to his supposedly loyal friend Brutus when stabbed by said friend during the Ides of March.

  “You’re the fearless, El Muerto, not Cesar, you spineless jellyfish.” Gus piled on. “We could have left you to face Princess Bump alone, but risked the wrath of the Bump out of compassion and eagerness to watch the aftermath. Grow a pair, drink some booze, and give her the outline of yet another outlandish commitment to the Muerto ego supreme.”

  “El Muerto was merely winding down a bit after saving Seattle from the deadly clutches of a wicked mass murderer, stalking, torturing, and killing young ladies of the night. Does El Muerto even get a few cherished moments to enjoy his incredible accomplishment? I think not.”

  Rachel enjoyed the continuing roast and professed outrage of Nick. She sat down at the kitchenette table. “Come sit down and tell Princess Bump all about it. At some point today, you guys will need some sleep.”

  “I can’t bail Muerto out of this one anyway,” Dan said. “If you gentlemen will excuse me, I’m going to go sleep for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “See you, when we see you, Dan,” Nick waved at him. “You were a great pimp.”

  “Thank you… I think.” Dan shook hands with his battery mates Gus and John as he made his way to the door. “Don’t let the Bump tear Muerto apart
too much guys. He still has to show for the book signings.”

  “We’ll take care of him, Dan. We took down the Ripper. The Bump will cut him a little slack for that,” Gus replied.

  The moment Dan closed the door behind him, Rachel ordered the other two thirds of the Unholy Trio to the table. “Sit down you two so Muerto can quit stalling. Can you put this in a way so the Daughter of Darkness can stay, or does she need to go to her room?”

  Jean knew better than to plead.

  “She can stay. With all that’s happened in the last few weeks there’s no use in playing pretend, not that it ever worked after Jean’s experience on the cross country flight from the Tanus mobsters,” Nick admitted. “There’s a situation Grace and Tim want me to handle in Santa Cruz a bit like you and Jean had, only with a personal thread tied in with Grace. A woman and her two teenage sons are in the WITSEC program. One of the boys made calls back to an old girlfriend, giving away their general location. A killer has moved into the area on the hunt. He’s the same one that ordered Grace’s Uncle Joe killed in Queens. She never mentioned him before. This Chino Salermo recruits local gangs to do his dirty work in protection rackets and killings. He’s a soldier for the Lino Verducci mob in New York the woman is testifying against at a murder trial.”

  “Did Grace mention she’d probably catapult to number one on my shit list for dumping this on you?”

  Nick chuckled. “She may have mentioned that in our conversation.”

  “Good. I can see you’ve already made up your Muerto mind to do this insanity. I know you can’t pull this off as cartoons, so let me think.” Rachel leaned back in her chair, eyes closed, rubbing her chin in deep comical contemplation. She leaned forward again after a moment hearing Gus and John stifling amusement in varying degrees while Jean giggled. “I see all now. The great Muerto wants to unmask the quirks in our justice system once again, while using the justice system’s own minions to willingly help him carry out and cover up his heinous acts.”

  “Maybe.”

  Rachel sighed. “No maybes about it. I can’t say I don’t support you in this, but are you going to do the book signings too?”

  “Yep. I have to. Cassie prompted my publisher to push a special print run for these signings. Cass will be flying into Olympia today. She’s decided to stay halfway between us and Seattle. She called me while I was on the way home. The first signing will be tomorrow at 11 am in Olympia. I told her to send a limo for us on my dime which she’s handling. Gus will be accompanying us on the book tour since his character Jed in the novels is so popular. I have a huge seafaring scene in this one just released, Assassin’s Folly, and Jed played a prominent role in Caribbean Contract too. No critics dare challenge my seafaring plots with the ancient mariner Payaso at my side.”

  “John and Dan are flying home tomorrow,” Nick continued. “John will check on our places, do preliminary visits to Santa Cruz to scope out the situation, and introduce himself to Dimah Kader. I’m calling Dimah today to prep her for meeting with my associate El Kabong, who will be taking the lovely cousin escaping the East Coast Kaders under his protective wing. Dan’s going back because he’s a geezer, and he’s already homesick. I don’t blame him. In any case, that’s the scoop for the future while we’re here enjoying the great Northwest.”

  “And after you solve the Salermo problem in Santa Cruz, Muerto?”

  Nick shrugged. “What can I say, ‘Doin’ right ain’t got no end’.”

  “You know I hate that ‘Outlaw Josie Wales’ quote, right?”

  Nick reached across the table, and clasped Rachel’s hands. “Yeah… so what’s your point?”

  “It means you’re planning on going to New York after one of the most dangerous mobsters in the country.”

  “Like you admitted, Rach, in some cases the justice system misses the mark. I don’t. If that woman and her kids ever hope to be safe again, Lino Verducci must be persuaded to leave them alone.”

  Rachel smiled for the first time. “I bet this outlaw intervention makes Grace mental, huh?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “Good!”

  “Although I will be missing this glorious book signing event because I need to meet my future cousin-in-law, and assure her I can keep my future love safe, Gus has consented to wear a cam for my viewing pleasure. I wish to see the great El Muerto and Payaso handle the infamous ‘Book Killers’.”

  “Sorry, John,” Nick replied. “They don’t show at signings. Some of the more intense book critics arrive to lecture me on grammar or plot twists they hated, but the BK’s love their exalted positions working to cause chaos on the Amazon marketplace from the shadows.”

  “Gus? I thought you said I would see ‘Book Killers’,” John turned to his fellow Muerto minion.

  “The great Muerto doesn’t foresee everything,” Gus replied.

  “Yes I do.”

  * * *

  Gus discussed nautical questions with nearly every reader in line, as the fact he had been Nick’s inspiration for the seafaring Jed in the Diego novels became public knowledge after the book signings in the East and South. Since Jed threaded into many scenes in both Caribbean Contract and Assassin’s Folly, people at the book signing asked about the dangerous boat maneuvers in the novels. Nick based his characters Diego and Jed’s seafaring scenes on real life missions he and Gus crewed together. Since incorporating Gus into the book signings, the interactions improved with each new venue. The rumors and news headlines concerning Nick’s consulting with local and federal law enforcement entities on important cases also improved the interactions with readers. With Tina, Rachel, and Jean shopping together in Olympia, Nick and Gus were on their own.

  Nick loved watching the people in line waiting their turns. Most within hearing range listened intently to the conversations between Nick, Gus, and the person at the line’s front. Nick signed quickly any way he was directed by the fan, then allowed for conversation and more signings while conversing. Nick’s affable manner, and relaxed style discussing multiple plot points or scenes drew small groups around the signing table. If someone felt uncomfortable sharing in a small discussion, the reader could wait for a one on one Nick signing. The book signing was definitely not an author speed signing books without even looking up. Nick noticed the small group did not slow the line. In fact the fans seemed to know when their time should end. They moved on without incident. The few exceptions were spoken to quietly by the bookstore attendants.

  A man gripping a copy of Caribbean Contract waited until the cluster of fans in front of him left so he would have a one on one signing opportunity. Nick noted the grim expression on his face as he approached the signing table. Slender of build, middle thirties by Nick’s estimation, dressed in jeans and navy blue windbreaker, he threw the Caribbean Contract novel aside on the table.

  “I don’t want a signature,” the man stated in a tenor voice loud enough to be heard by nearly everyone in the store. His statement quieted the chatter nearby as other store patrons stopped what they were doing. “I only grabbed a book because I figured they wouldn’t let me get near you without one.”

  Gus tensed, and one of the security guards moved closer. Nick grinned at the man with his hands flat on the table in front of him. “Well… uh… what can I do for you then?”

  “I read strictly on my Kindle. Your novels suck. It’s incredible you’ve held any position on any bestseller list with the garbage you write.”

  Although a murmur of discontent rumbled through the crowd, a hush as everyone seemed to wait for Nick’s reply led to a silent moment before Nick began laughing. Gus looked on somewhat uneasily, while many in the crowd laughed too because Nick did.

  “Oh… you think this is funny?”

  Nick responded after a few more seconds of enjoyment. “Yeah, I guess I do. Thanks for stopping by.”

  “I’m not done with you yet!”

  That statement drew the security guard to the man’s side, but Nick waved him off with a smile. “It’s oka
y, Ken. I have this.”

  “I’ll be right here, Nick,” the security guard replied.

  “Have you reviewed any of my novels, Sir,” Nick asked the man.

  “Of course I’ve reviewed the trash. I’m Bongo97. You’ve taken it upon yourself to insult my reviews in the Amazon reviews and comments section. I’m here today to face you in the flesh.”

  Nick turned to Gus. “You were right, Gus. We attracted a Book Killer for John’s enjoyment.” He faced Bongo 97 again. “I recognize your handle. I’m always polite with you, Bongo. You’re what we call a ‘Book Killer’. For some reason only you know, instead of reading the preview Amazon supplies and avoiding novels you find beneath you, like mine, you engage in one star hit pieces in hopes of killing sales. Since Amazon allows such practices in spite of the lengthy ‘Look Inside’ preview feature they supply, which should eliminate one star hit pieces altogether, I choose to interact with my BK attackers. It’s kind of neat to have one attend in person to a signing.”

  Bongo pointed a finger at Nick. “Your comments held me up to ridicule from your troll supporters. How dare you attack a reader’s honest review!”

  “I take it you’re referring to my reply to the latest one you did on Caribbean Contract where you stated you had read all my novels, but couldn’t get through two chapters of Caribbean Contract. You also claimed it was a waste of money, my writing sucked, and you had read better prose from high school kids. Then you claimed I was no Hemingway. I merely pointed out once again as with all your other one star hit pieces, that Amazon gives you three chapters for free, so why not read the preview, and avoid the novel. Lastly, I agreed with you that I was indeed not Hemingway, but that I did know how to spell his name, which you misspelled.”

  A ripple of laughter went through the crowd in appreciation of Nick’s Hemingway comment. Nick could tell Bongo hadn’t intended for the details to be heard. Nick sliced away while watching Bongo’s head threaten to explode. “Coming here in person really wasn’t very smart, Bongo. Any derogatory remark you spout off about I can answer with a simple plot question, which you won’t know the answer to, because you’ve never read a single novel of mine. Think before you dig a deeper hole for yourself. Just saying I suck as a writer only works in the anonymous Amazon comments section. Here, I can ask for particulars, including plot points, which you won’t know. You’ve been somewhat entertaining, Bongo. Let’s part friends now while you can. Folks! Can we give Bongo a great sendoff? Bye Bongo. Bye Bongo.”