by J. L. Abramo
Monday evening. New York.
Vito Ventura walked Max Lansdale back to the Regency.
“Sorry that I can’t make it up to Connecticut with you tomorrow, Max,” Vito said. “I need to be in Baltimore all day. Paul Sacco will take very good care of you. Anything you want, food, drink, just sign for it, it’s on the house. And I held two tickets for the show tomorrow night if you’d like to catch it. Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons, and Frankie can still knock out the tunes.”
“And Paul Sacco has the cash ready?” asked Lansdale.
“It will be all set to go when you’re ready to leave for the Hartford airport.”
“Thanks, Vito,” Lansdale said as they came up to the hotel entrance.
“Don’t mention it,” said Ventura. “Have a safe trip. Take good care of my money.”
Lansdale didn’t know quite how to respond, so he said nothing. He went into the hotel lobby and from there directly into the lounge. He sat at the bar and ordered scotch.
Lansdale was still sitting at the bar an hour later when Sonny came into the hotel, returning from dinner with his wife’s brother. Sonny spotted Lansdale in the lounge. He debated whether he should go into the lounge or wait until the limousine ride in the morning.
“What the hell,” Sonny said to himself. He went to the bar and took a seat close to Lansdale.
“What can I get for you, sir?” asked the bartender.
“Scotch,” said Sonny, “the oldest you have. Do you have anything that’s reached adolescence?”
“How does sixteen years old sound?”
“Sounds great,” said Sonny. “Better make it a double; I probably won’t be able to afford it after my visit to the casino tomorrow.”
“Atlantic City?” asked the bartender, pouring the scotch.
“Connecticut. The limo leaves at ten.”
“I guess we’ll be riding together,” said Lansdale from a few seats down.
“Are you Mr. Lansdale?” asked Sonny.
“Yes.”
“Sonny Badalamenti,” Sonny said. “What are you drinking, Mr. Lansdale?”
“Same as you, Mr. Badalamenti.”
“Call me Sonny, and allow me buy you another while I still can.” “Let me get yours instead,” said Lansdale.
“Sure,” said Sonny. “I’ll get the next round.”
“I will have another,” Lansdale said to the bartender. “Why don’t you slide over, Sonny. If we’re sharing a ride together in the morning, then we may as well start getting acquainted.”
“May as well, Mr. Lansdale,” said Sonny, moving over to the adjacent stool.
“Call me Max,” said Lansdale.
“Here’s to filling the inside straight, Max,” Sonny said, lifting his glass.
After dropping Ralph Battle off in Cicero, Tom Romano had come back to Eddie’s place. He had nodded off watching TV. Romano was awakened when Darlene and Eddie came in.
“Have fun?” Tom asked.
“Loads of it,” said Darlene. “I’d ask if you had fun, but I think I can guess.”
“It’s business, Darlene,” said Tom. It went well. I believe it will fly.”
“Coffee?” asked Eddie Hand.
“I could drink some,” said Tom.
“Do you have any herbal tea, Eddie,” Darlene asked as the telephone rang.
“Cinnamon apple spice?” Eddie said.
“Perfect,” said Darlene.
Eddie went to the kitchen and answered the phone. A few minutes later he called to Darlene. “Darlene, phone call for you. You can take it in my study if you like.”
Darlene walked into the study and picked up. “Hello?”
“Hey, partner.”
“Jake, what a surprise. How are you?”
“Okay. How are you doing?”
“What’s up? You sound blue.”
“I don’t know. I think it’s all the waiting,” said Diamond, “or being in this big house, alone.”
“I knew that I should have left Tug McGraw with you,” said Darlene.
“I don’t know that the dog would help much in this case, Darlene.”
“Aw, shucks, Jake. Do you miss me?”
“Sure I miss you,” said Jake. “I miss a lot of other things, also. Nothing seems the same since the explosion, Darlene.”
“It will never be the same. Maybe you’ll never be the same. That’s the deal,” said Darlene, “those are the cards. You’re a pinochle player, Jake; you play what you have in your hand. And maybe, if you’re lucky, you get some help from the kitty. You’ll be here Thursday evening; I’ll take you to dinner. And on Friday you’re going to be right in the thick of it. Meanwhile, try to get some rest. Spend a little time at the office; it might make you feel better. Who knows, there might even be some work waiting.”
“All right, Darlene. Thanks for talking.”
“Anytime, pal,” said Darlene. “Anytime.”
Monday night. New York.
Sonny excused himself after two hours at the bar with Lansdale. He displayed appropriate surprise when he learned that he and Lansdale would not only be sharing a limousine to Connecticut, but would also be traveling on the same flight to Chicago. “Small world,” Max Lansdale had said.
Sonny had simply agreed.
It was nearly midnight when the telephone in Sonny’s room rang.
“Hello?”
“Hey, tough guy. How are you doing?”
“Well, you know, Connie. New York is a lonely town when you’re the only surfer boy around. How are you?”
“Same.”
“And the baby?”
“Which one? The one I had to read Dr. Seuss to for an hour before she gave up the fight against sleep or the one trying to kick his or her way out a month early?” asked his wife. “They are both fine. Are you drunk?”
“I had a few too many with Max Lansdale.”
“Are you kidding?”
“Nope,” said Sonny. “We hit it off famously. He even offered me a ticket to see Frankie Valli and the boys.”
“Is Lansdale hitting on you?”
“No, I don’t think so. I think that the poor bastard is in dire need of friends.”
“Either way, it’s going to tickle my father,” Connie said. “How did my brother treat you?”
“Louie treated me very well,” said Sonny. “He took me out to Mario’s Restaurant.”
“Mario from the Food Network?”
“The very one. He came to our table, Bermuda shorts, ponytail, the works. The food was very good, although it looks like Mario might enjoy it a little too much himself.”
“When are you coming home?”
“I have to come back here to New York for a meeting on Wednesday, hopefully an early meeting. I should be back by late afternoon.”
“What you’re doing for my father, Sonny?”
“Yes?”
“Is it dangerous?”
“No, Connie, not at all. Joey would never put me in danger. You should know that about your father.”
“Be careful anyway,” Connie said. “We need you.”
“I’ll be extremely careful, Connie. I love you.”
“Glad to hear it. How long have we been on the phone?”
“I don’t know,” said Sonny, “five minutes maybe. Why, are you worried about the phone bill?”
“No,” said Connie. “I’m just timing how long it took you to say those three little words.”
Twenty-Two
Early Tuesday evening. Chicago.
After the Cubs game and dinner at a restaurant on the North Side, close to the ballpark and Eddie’s house, they prepared for the trip to the airport.
Darlene would be riding with Eddie in his Bonneville; Tom would be driving the rental.
Ninety minutes later, the three stood watching at the concourse security checkpoint.
“Here he is,” said Tom.
Vinnie Strings strolled up the concourse toward them.
“He looks like he’s in his
own little world,” Eddie Hand said.
“Wait until you hear him speak,” said Darlene.
Vinnie spotted them and picked up his pace, a wide smile across his face.
“When did you start wearing glasses, Vinnie?” Darlene asked.
“They’re clear glass,” Vinnie said. “I thought that it would help me get into character.”
Darlene held her tongue.
“Vinnie, this is Eddie,” said Tom.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” said Vinnie.
“Ditto,” said Eddie.
“I’m looking forward to getting to know you, Eddie,” said Vinnie.
“You guys can bond in the car,” said Darlene. “Let’s get Vinnie checked into the hotel. Sonny and Lansdale will be arriving soon, and Battle is close. I can feel it.”
“Okay,” said Tom Romano. “Wish us luck.”
“Let’s hope that luck won’t have to figure into it,” said Darlene.
Ralph Battle stood watching as Max Lansdale and Sonny approached. Battle took Lansdale’s suitcase when the two men reached him. Lansdale held on to the briefcase that held the cash.
Lansdale quickly introduced Ralph to Sonny.
“Are you sure you don’t need a ride?” asked Lansdale.
“I’m set, Max,” said Sonny. “I have a ride waiting.”
“Give me a call if you find the time while you’re in town,” Lansdale said, handing Sonny a business card. “We can have lunch.”
“I’ll see how it goes,” said Sonny.
Tom Romano stood some distance away, waiting. Romano had run across Battle earlier, and each had ignored the other. He moved to Sonny as Battle and Lansdale walked off.
“I’m parked in the same section as Battle,” Tom said. “We should be able to drive out right behind them.”
“Let’s do it,” Sonny said.
They hurried out to the parking lot.
“What does Diamond actually have, Ralph?” Lansdale asked as they exited the airport.
“The retired medical examiner, who mysteriously passed away in Mexico, left his son an inheritance with your name all over it,” said Battle. “It would be embarrassing if the documents came to light, to say the least. They suggest you had something to do with your father’s death.”
“You know that’s absurd.”
“Sure, I know,” Battle said as he exited the freeway at the Chevalier Forest Preserve.
“Where are you going?” Lansdale asked when he suddenly found they were off the highway and in the park.
“There’s something wrong with the car, Mr. Lansdale,” Ralph said. “I’m going to stop up here out of traffic and take a look.” Romano was able to keep Lansdale’s car in view on the expressway. He followed the car off the exit and into the large wooded area.
“Great choice,” said Sonny as they turned at the Scout camp entrance.
“Battle will be stopping the car up around the bend. You’ll need to get over there quickly,” Tom said, turning off the headlights. “I’ll duck down in the seat when I see Lansdale coming back this way. The gun is in the glove compartment.”
Romano began slowing down as they watched Lansdale’s car move out of sight.
Battle stopped the car and pulled out his weapon.
“Get out, Max,” he said.
“What is this?”
“Get the fuck out. Don’t touch the briefcase.”
Lansdale climbed out of the car; Battle jumped out and moved quickly around to Lansdale.
“Get down on your knees, Max.”
“You’re insane, Battle. You’re committing suicide.”
“You killed your own father, you fucking maniac,” said Battle. “Diamond convinced me. If anyone gives a fuck about what happens to you, they can come after me. I think I can get lost pretty well with a quarter million bucks.”
“Ralph, please don’t do this,” Lansdale pleaded from his knees. “I can explain. I’ll take care of you.”
“Go to hell, Lansdale, it’s over,” said Battle.
Lansdale heard the terrible sound of Battle chambering a bullet. He closed his eyes.
There was a muted shot and Battle fell on top of him. He clawed his way out from under the body and looked up to find Sonny Badalamenti standing over him.
“You?” Lansdale cried. “Battle was going to kill me.”
“It would appear so,” said Sonny. “Lucky for you that Mr. Ventura asked me to keep an eye on his money.”
Sonny moved to the body and put a finger to Battle’s neck.
“Is he dead?” asked Lansdale, standing and brushing himself off.
“Oh, yeah,” said Sonny.
“And all along, you’re working for Vito?”
“Mr. Ventura had some concerns about Battle,” said Sonny. “Well founded, I would say. I’ll take care of the body, Max. Take the car and go home. And I’ll take the cash. Mr. Ventura would insist. When you’re ready to do whatever you do with it, call me at the Allegro Hotel on Randolph Street, downtown. I’ll meet you with the money.”
Sonny opened the car door and reached in for the briefcase. “Go, Max,” Sonny said.
Lansdale looked once at Ralph Battle’s body and then at Sonny holding the briefcase. He couldn’t say a word. Lansdale climbed behind the wheel, started the car, and turned it around to exit the park. Tom Romano sat up in the seat of the rental after Lansdale passed.
“Okay, Ralph,” Sonny said. “Get up and dust yourself off. You have a plane to catch to Detroit, and I need to get back to New York.”
Tom dropped Ralph Battle and Sonny off at the airport and headed into town.
Romano called Eddie’s cell phone number.
“How did it go?” asked Eddie.
“So far, so good,” said Romano. “Where are you and Darlene?”
“Downtown at the Burnham Hotel on State,” said Eddie, “getting Vinnie settled in. Darlene is helping him work on his character and making sure that the kid has everything straight. Why don’t you head to the house? We should be back there soon.”
“How is Darlene holding up?” asked Tom.
“She looks pretty tired, but she’s doing great,” said Eddie. “Jake Diamond is a very lucky guy.”
“I hope he realizes how lucky,” said Tom.
“Darlene is all pumped up for tomorrow morning,” said Eddie. “She said that she can’t wait to meet Lansdale, that she’s always been fascinated by reptiles.”
“From what I’ve seen of the guy,” said Tom, “she won’t be disappointed. I’ll catch you guys back at the house.”
Early Wednesday morning. New York.
It was well past midnight when Sonny checked into the hotel. He chose the Regency again, so he could walk over to Ventura’s office in the morning. He phoned Joey Russo as soon as he reached his room.
“Hello?” Angela Russo answered sleepily.
“Hello, Angela,” Sonny said.
“Sonny, what time is it. Is anything wrong?”
“No, everything is fine. It’s late, I’m sorry,” Sonny said. “Joey asked that I call when I got back to New York, no matter what time.”
“Hold on, Sonny, I’ll get him,” Angela said. “Take care of yourself.”
“I will, Mom,” Sonny said.
“Sonny, how did it go?”
“Smooth as silk, Joey. You should have seen Lansdale after Ralph Battle fell on him. I’m surprised Max didn’t have a heart attack. He was white as a ghost.”
“Battle?”
“Tom and I put him on a plane to Detroit,” said Sonny, “and Vinnie made it in okay. I’m back at the Regency.”
“The money?”
“Right here. I’ll bring it over to Ventura in the morning. I don’t know what kind of briefcase this is, but Lansdale carried it right on the plane at Hartford. It went through the X-ray machine and never raised an eyebrow. I decided not to press my luck, and put it into my suitcase; I checked it in at the ticket counter,” said Sonny. “Figured if they lost it, Ventura cou
ld sue the airline.”
“I spoke with Tony Carlucci. Tony said it was okay to drop his name when you see Ventura.”
“I think I already dropped it.”
“I thought for a minute about having you drop my name, but I’m not quite ready to come out of the closet,” Joey said. “Pray it won’t be long.”
“Every night before I go to sleep, Joey.”
“Good work, Sonny.”
“I’m hoping to be back by late afternoon. When are you heading to Chicago?”
“We’ll see how things go up there tomorrow,” said Joey. “I’ll probably fly up on Thursday morning.”
“Okay, then I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Need a lift from the airport?”
“No, thanks, Joey,” Sonny said. “Connie wants to pick me up.” “Good. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Early Wednesday morning. San Francisco.
Jake Diamond was jolted awake by a stabbing pain in his right knee, a consequence of tossing and turning in his sleep. Jake had been tossing and turning a lot during the past two nights, and much of the unrest had to do with Joey Russo.
Something about Joey’s plan was nagging Diamond. He had confidence in Joey Russo’s plan. He had confidence in Joey Russo. It was Joey’s conditions that puzzled Jake.
Jake could understand Joey’s insistence that Lansdale not be killed. After all, who among them was a murderer? Jake could not imagine Joey or Sonny any more capable of cold-blooded killing than he or Darlene would be.
It was Joey’s admonition against involving the police that bothered Jake. Lansdale was a murderer, a multiple murderer. Short of assassinating Max Lansdale, what better punishment than to see him rot in a jail cell for the rest of his miserable life? What could Joey Russo possibly have in mind? And why was Ray Boyle willing to comply?
Jake recalled something Tom Romano had said about how to bring Max Lansdale down. You need to find out what it is that frightens Lansdale, what it is that scares the shit out of him, what it is that gives him nightmares, his personal pit of snakes. And then you have to throw him right into the pit.