by Alves, Carl
In the early years, he got along well with the others, even Magnus. After a while, his eccentricities wore on some of them, yet nobody ever told him to leave. For better or worse, they accepted him. This long-running, silent feud between him and the brood leader was coming to a head. If Magnus wanted to force the issue, he would oblige him.
Chapter Seventeen
Mark Andrews sat alone on a bench near the Joan of Arc statue in Fairmount Park. Although he was sure the mob leader would not attempt foul play, he was still armed. He stretched his legs and cracked his neck. Enzo was late, probably watching nearby.
At peace with his decision, Mark slept well the previous evening. He was confident that since Enzo was willing to go this far, he would agree to work together.
He looked at his watch. Salerno was seven minutes late. When he glanced up again, Salerno approached wearing khaki pants, a polo shirt and sunglasses.
He sat next to Mark and took out a pack of cigarettes. “Care for a smoke?”
“No thanks,” Mark replied. “I quit.”
“Smart move. Here I am. I have a busy schedule, so I hope this will be worth my while.”
Mark nodded. “What I’m about to show you has to be kept strictly confidential.”
Salerno glared at him. “What do you think I’m going to do, find a reporter after we’re done? Come on, Andrews.”
“I know you won’t, but I had to say it.”
“And you wonder why I’m reluctant to work with you.”
“I’m not going to waste your time with the early victims. It’s a safe assumption that you’ve seen them already.” Mark opened a briefcase and took out a picture. “This is the latest victim. Her name is Denise McKenna. She’s a member of the orchestra at a local theater. Like the others, she was murdered in gruesome fashion.”
Salerno picked up the pictures. “Our killer likes to carve up beautiful young women.” He stared at the next picture. “This definitely fits the pattern. Did he go for the organs?”
“Yes. He partially consumed the liver and kidneys.”
“Sick bastard.” Salerno continued to flip through the photos. “Was the blood drained from the body?”
“Yes.”
“What does he do, suck it out or use an instrument?”
“The evidence suggests he sucked the blood from small puncture wounds below the neck.”
“You’ve been around a while. You ever seen anything like this?” Salerno asked.
“I’ve seen other brutal serial killers in the past,” Mark replied. “But never any as sick as our boy. He takes it to another level of depravity.”
After he finished looking at the photos, he handed them back to Mark. He took a deep drag from his cigarette. “Fascinating, but this is nothing new.”
“This is where it gets interesting. Troy Zutaut, a friend of the deceased, took me to her apartment. Prior to Denise’s death, they spent an evening with the suspect. Zutaut was pretty shook up when we reached the apartment.”
“I would guess so.”
“He said that the man had a mesmerizing quality about him. They were in his apartment for hours and he said it felt like minutes, like he had been in a trance the whole time.”
“Maybe he uses hypnosis,” Salerno said. “That would explain why there has been no forcible entry.”
“Except for Johnny Gunns. In that case, there was a struggle.”
The mob boss nodded. “Johnny was a fighter. Have you found any hallucinogenic drugs in the toxicology reports?”
“No.”
“What about the hypnosis angle? You think there’s anything to it?”
“I wouldn’t rule it out. The kid said the suspect had been around the world and told wild tales. Judging by some of these stories you would think the killer was really old, except that he didn’t look old.”
Salerno crushed his cigarette butt and tossed it into the trash can.
“The killer used the name Alexei,” Mark said.
“Sounds Russian.”
“We’re running a search on anyone in the area with a criminal record that has a first name of Alexei, Alexander or some variation.”
“Okay, since you shared some useful information, I’ll tell you what I know, as long as you agree that anything I say here can’t be used to implicate anybody.”
“You have my word.”
“On the night Johnny Gunns got wacked, one of my associates, Patrick Adesso, had a run-in with the killer.”
“The Goat?”
“You do your homework. You know everybody I deal with?”
Mark shrugged.
“Anyway, the man nearly killed Patrick. In his words, he choked him with an inhuman grip. The kicker is that once he heard sirens, the man vanished.”
“So I take it The Goat got a good look at him?”
Salerno nodded.
“We have an artist’s sketch. I want you to show this to him and verify whether or not it’s the same person.” Mark took the sketch out of his briefcase and handed it to Salerno.
He brought it close to his face. “It fits the description he gave.”
“Can you show it to The Goat?”
Salerno nodded.
“What else can you tell me?”
“Several neighbors saw our guy prior to the time Johnny and Tina were killed. He had blood on his shirt, and they described him as a vampire.”
Mark frowned. “We’re not dealing with a vampire. This guy’s flesh and blood like you and me.”
“I didn’t say otherwise.”
Mark’s brows creased. “We talked to everybody in the neighborhood. Nobody told us anything.”
Salerno chuckled. “They don’t talk to your kind. I guess you do need my help.”
“You have anything else?”
“Nothing that you don’t already know.”
“So, Enzo, I’m glad you decided to meet me today. That shows character and integrity.”
“Let’s not make this a love fest.”
Mark ignored the sarcasm. “We can make progress if we work together. I want your help nailing this killer.”
Salerno put his index finger to his chin. “I’m not sure this is a good idea, seeing as how you’re always trying to arrest me. That’s not conducive to a working relationship.”
“Enzo, I’m not going to lie to you. I’m desperate to get this guy. If it takes your help, then so be it. I’m willing to suspend my investigations into your illegal activities.”
“Alleged illegal activities. My record is clean. I’ve never been convicted of anything.”
“Yeah, and I’m the Tooth Fairy. Regardless, I’ll suspend my investigations in anything you may or may not be connected with until we catch the killer or dissolve our partnership.”
“Let’s say I agree. How would we go about doing this? What are we going to do, ride in a squad car together?”
Mark hesitated, not sure if Salerno was being serious.
“It’ll mostly be what we’re doing now, sharing information. If I come up with something useful, I’ll let you know. If we put our heads together, we’ll nail this guy. There are things I can’t do that you can and vice-versa. We can share resources. Basically, whatever it takes to get this bastard.”
The mob boss nodded. “You know, I’ve thought about this since the other day when you told me to cut the Godfather bullshit. I don’t have faith in the law. Your hands are tied because of legalities designed to protect the bad guys. There’s too much corruption for law enforcement to be effective. I know many cops and judges on the take. But I respect you. I want justice for Johnny, so, I’m going to take you up on your offer as long as you give me your word that you’re not going to turn on me.”
Mark smiled. The road ahead would be bumpy. “You have my word. You’re going down at some point. That’s as inevitable as the sun rising and setting, but for now you’re safe.”
Salerno chuckled. “I like your false bravado.” He extended his hand, and Mark shook it.
�
�I’ll be in touch. We’ve got work to do. Alexei doesn’t seem to take much time off between kills. That means we have to keep our eyes and ears open.”
“We’ll have people looking for our friend. He won’t be able to move without being seen.”
“Good.”
Mark turned to leave, but before he could go anywhere, Salerno grabbed his arm, pulled out a large silver cross from his breast pocket and handed it to him.
“What’s this all about? I thought that you didn’t believe in this vampire nonsense.”
Salerno smirked. “It never hurts to be careful.”
Chapter Eighteen
Fat Paulie took the envelope from a trembling Yeo See Choy and handed it to The Goat. “All the money better be here, you fucking gook bastard.”
The Goat counted the money. He didn’t think Choy would come through, but it was all there. They must have scared him shitless last time. “That’s all of it. Too bad. I was hopin’ to slice you up today.” He pulled out his switchblade and rubbed the blade against his palm.
“You leave me alone,” Choy said.
“Don’t tell us what to do,” Fat Paulie said. “The next time we come here, you better have the money again.” Choy had three payments left to settle his debt. “’Cause like I said, I can’t always control this guy. You know how young people are. They do what they want and don’t have respect for their elders.”
“I will have money! Now go. I have customers in store.”
“Relax. You think we don’t have better things to do than bother with a useless gook?”
The Goat waved the knife close to Choy’s neck. “See you next month. By the way, I’m taking a Blackberry. Consider it a penalty for your late payment.”
“How am I supposed to pay if you take merchandise?”
“That’s not my fucking problem. You’re the fucking businessman. You figure it out.”
As promised, The Goat took a Blackberry on the way out. Meanwhile, Fat Paulie took a camera. They put the goods in the trunk of The Goat’s BMW.
Fat Paulie looked at his watch. “Shit, we gotta go. We’re running late.”
The Goat pulled onto the Schuylkill Expressway and stepped on the gas. “Don’t worry. We’ll get there in time. So what do you think the Boss wants?”
Fat Paulie shrugged, his double chin sagging. “We’ll find out when we get there. All I know is that all the capos will be there.”
“So then why does he want me there?”
Fat Paulie’s head snapped back. “What do I look like, a fucking mind reader? He didn’t tell me. All the fucking questions. It feels like I’m on the goddamn witness stand.”
They made it to the parking lot of Santucci’s restaurant ten minutes later and walked to a private room. Santucci’s was owned by Tony Scrambolgni’s cousin.
The Goat’s spine tingled at the sight of all of Enzo’s top guys. Mario “Ice Pick” Lazaro sat at a table next to Vinnie Mascaro with his glass eye. He had supposedly lost his real one in a knife fight in high school. Sophie Koch stood on one side of Enzo, and Barry Horn on the other.
The Goat couldn’t hide his smile as he sat next to “Mad” Sal Demonte. He had never been this close to the Salerno family elite.
After everybody sat, and the waiter took their orders, Enzo addressed the capos, opening with a few jokes. When he finished he said, “I’m sure by now many of you have heard rumors about the death of Johnny Gunns, may God rest his soul. Although some of what you heard may be accurate, I doubt you know the full story. That’s why I’ve invited our associate Patrick Addeso to give a detailed account of what transpired.”
The Goat’s brow furrowed. “Say what?”
“Did you not understand what I just said? Then I’ll say it slower. I want you to tell everybody what happened from the time you arrived at the house.”
“Um, sure.” The Goat took a deep breath. He put his shaking hands in his pockets and rushed through his narrative. From time to time he glanced at the cold eyes of the men sitting at the table and lost his train of thought.
When he first mentioned the vampire, Vinnie Mascaro said, “Yo, pal, back up. What the fuck you talkin’ about?”
“I know it’s crazy, but you shoulda seen this fucker. If someone woulda told me that a month ago, I’d think the same thing. After I shot him, he grabbed my throat and then vanished. There ain’t no way it could be nothing else.”
“You gotta be shitting me,” Vinnie said.
“I swear it’s the truth.”
Enzo stared at Vinnie. “We’ll reserve judgment on the nature of this person for now. I can tell you that this is the “vampire killer” you’ve been hearing about on the news.”
“Get the fuck outta here,” “Ice Pick” Lazaro said.
“My personal belief is that the killer is a man just like the rest of us, despite what the reporters want us to believe. He just happens to have a demented way of taking his victims.” Enzo removed a folder from his briefcase and handed it to The Goat. “Open it.”
The Goat opened the envelope. His eyes bulged out. “Holy shit.”
“Does that look like the man you saw that night?” Enzo asked.
“Hell yeah. Where did you get this from?”
Enzo removed a stack of papers from his briefcase and passed them around the table. “I know everyone here wants revenge for Johnny, nobody more than me. These are copies of an artist’s sketch. His name is Alexei. This son of a bitch is our killer. I suspect he’s Russian or Eastern European. Pass these around to your associates. Be on the lookout for this bastard. If any of your associates find this guy, have them call you immediately, and then you call me. I don’t care what time it is or what’s going on. This is our top priority. Understand?” Everyone at the table nodded. “One more thing. We’re going to work with Mark Andrews and his people from the Feds on this.”
Shouts of dissension spilled from the table.
“Settle down,” Enzo shouted.
“What?” Spit flew from Mad Sal Demonte’s mouth. “Work with the Feds?”
Ice Pick Lazaro slammed his fist on the table. “Back in the day, you talk to the Feds and that’s a one-way ticket to your grave.”
“This is fucking nuts,” Mad Sal said.
Enzo stood. “Enough already. This is a one-shot deal.” He glared at his capos. “The best way to get this Alexei is to work with Andrews. After we kill this fucker, we part company.”
Barry Horn removed his glasses. “What makes you think we can trust the Feds? By working with us, they can dig up dirt. We all stand to lose.”
“Believe me, I don’t trust the Feds either, but Andrews is a standup guy. I believe his sincerity. I can read people. Let’s not forget, I sniffed out that rat Dom Capesso when he was trying to sell us out, and I cut his fucking throat. There have been other cases where I cut off people we couldn’t trust, and you guys know it. So right now, I’m telling you to believe me when I say you have nothing to worry about from the Feds.”
Sophie Koch said, “Enzo’s right. Andrews won’t screw us on this.”
“What have you two been smoking?” Mad Sal asked. “This is treason.”
“Sit down, Sal.” Enzo stared at him, his face tight. “I’m the boss around here, and that’s what we’re doing. If you stand against this, you stand against me.”
Sal stood defiantly.
“You either sit down now or leave. Once you’re gone, there’s no coming back.”
Mad Sal gritted his teeth. He looked around at the other capos, but they looked away from him. He took his seat.
“Think about poor Johnny’s mother. Her son was unjustly put in his grave, and it’s up to the people in this room to make things right. If Andrews or any of his agents are playing us, then we pull the plug, but that won’t happen. Put your trust in me. I haven’t steered you wrong in the past, and I’ve put you in position to earn a good living for your families.”
The Goat stared at Enzo, entranced by the boss’s power of persuasion. Just
minutes ago, he had a full-scale mutiny on hand, and he skillfully diffused the situation. He was glad he talked to the boss. So transfixed by what went down at the meeting, he did not even mind when he got stuck with the bill at the end of the meal.
Later Tony Scrambolgni sat at a table at the Reading Terminal Market with Enzo and Sophie, drinking a cappuccino and eating a cannoli from Termini Brothers. “You know I trust you, Boss. If you give me an order, I’m going to follow through. You’ve earned my respect and the respect of the other captains, but I have to say, I’m leery about your plan.” Tony gestured with his hands. “I get a little nervous around those Feds. They’re out to bust our balls, and the last thing I need are RICO charges.”
Enzo put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “No one here has more to lose than me. Don’t forget, I’m the one they’re after. The rest of you guys would be used to get to me. If I’m okay with this arrangement, you should be too.”
“You’re worried about the wrong thing,” Sophie said.
“What do you mean?” Tony asked.
“I’ve been doing a lot of reading about this vampire killer. Look at his victims. Their bodies have been drained of blood, organs consumed or removed. There have been no forcible entry into the homes, and that kid Troy said Alexei was mesmerizing. The Goat claims he vanished, and witnesses said he has the appearance of a vampire. If it looks like one, acts like one, and smells like one, then call me crazy, but I think we’re dealing with a real vampire.”
“You can’t be serious.” Enzo smirked as he drank his espresso.
“I’m dead serious,” Sophie said.
“You’re pulling my chain,” Tony said.
“You believe in God, right?” Sophie asked.
“Of course I do.”
“And you believe in Satan?” Sophie continued.
“Sure.”
“You believe in saints. I see you’re wearing a cross.”