by Thomas Laird
He’d talk to one of his lawyers about a harassment suit, maybe. Too bad Parisi was on the force. It wasn’t a good idea to pop patrolmen or detectives. Very costly business, that.
“Hey? Remember me? I’m your wife, Benny.”
“Stop calling me by that name.”
“Okay, Ben, my love. Now start talking sense. You sound more and more like you need some professional help. You sound like you’ve gone pazzo, off the deep end. You’re trying to do everything all by yourself.”
“I know. You want to help me. I heard you.”
“You afraid that I can’t help you because I haven’t got a cock and balls between my legs?”
The reference aroused him. And he caught a glimpse of the tops of her full breasts from the sheet that had almost given way to all that sweet flesh.
She hoisted the cover up over herself.
“Never mind that. We’re talking survival here, husband. You’re going to get us all killed if you keep on like you have been. Then that fine big dick won’t be coming home down here ever again. Everything you’ve built will be gone, and I’ll go down with you. Is that what you really want, Benny Bats?”
He watched her wolfen eyes as they bore into him.
“What is it you think you can do, Carmen?”
“I can negotiate a truce with Bertelli and Calabrese. I can convince Tony C that you didn’t order the pop at him on his front lawn. You haven’t noticed that I can be very convincing? You suppose Bertelli or Calabrese hasn’t noticed me or my extras, baby?”
His face flushed in anger.
“You see? First thing you do is hang your anger out in front of you like your big, hard member. What the hell’s wrong with you? We can use me against them. They got all that macho bullshit when it comes to dealing with a woman, and they both have egos as big as your lovely johnson, Benny. They think they can get more than just a sweet deal with me. Good, let them think it.
“Then, when they get all comfortable, then you can hit both of them. You have to get them all relaxed. I know how my old man operated. I watched him all my life, and I was paying attention.
“I’m not some stupid broad, baby. I can make it easy for you to put them both down, and when we do, Carbone and Bonadura will be under the heel of your shoe. They’re nothing, the other two. They’re both stupid and weak, and they’ll be happy if you just let them survive.
“Let me help you, Ben. Let me help you do these things. No one’s going to know I helped you set them up. You’ll get all the glory. I don’t give a shit about glory. I care about results. I care about us, Benny.”
He watched her intense face for a long moment.
Then she came across at him, and she left the sheet behind her.
*
“This can’t stand,” Calabrese said to Bertelli.
They were in the steam room at Collisimo’s Gym on Fullerton and Western. They brought plenty of security with each of them. Neither the capo or the Boss thought Benny Bats had given up being the cowboy just because his two favorite hitmen had parted with the mortal coil.
Both men had white towels draped around them, and the droplets of sweat cascaded down their bodies. They sat in a wet pool of their own making. The steam was like a London fog in which neither man could clearly see the other.
“So we have to do him,” Bertelli concluded.
“I heard he’s got the fuckin’ 101st Airborne around his house,” Calabrese shot back. “How the fuck are you going to get near him when he’s protected like that?”
“We can make like overtures toward a peace talk.”
“That cocksucker doesn’t want to be reasonable. He tried to pop me, and I think you better be careful when you’re out in the open, Joe.”
“I’m taking precautions, Boss…Motherfucker, it’s ablaze in this hellhole.”
“That’s sorta the idea. I brought a gift for you.”
Calabrese pointed to the naked woman entering the steam bath.
She was blonde and tall and top heavy in just the right way, and the only hair she sported was the drooping bouffant on top.
“This is Jennifer, Joe. A little post-Christmas cheer for you.”
The blonde knelt in front of Bertelli and pulled off his towel. There were only the three of them in the bath because Calabrese had rented it out for two hours.
“You don’t mind if I watch, do you?” the Boss asked.
Bertelli’s eyes popped open when Jennifer began her magic act.
“As if it ain’t hot enough already in here,” Joe laughed.
Then he stopped laughing, and Jennifer concluded her act.
“God damn!” the capo blurted.
Jennifer giggled, and then she wiggled her ass on the way out, for Calabrese’s benefit.
“Now then. I assume you’re quite relaxed, Joe. No?”
“I think I’m melted.”
The Boss smiled briefly.
“So what’s our play, here, Joe?”
“I think there’s a way into the citadel, the strong place in the castle, I mean.”
“I’m all fucking ears.”
“The wife.”
“You mean that luscious piece of ass they call Carmen?” Calabrese smiled again.
“She’s smarter than her old man.”
“You telling me we can reason with her?”
“She’s very bright, Tony.”
“And how did you come upon all this information?”
“She made like overtures to me.”
“You telling me, Joe, that you’re fucking Benny Bats’ old lady? Is that true? You been dipping it in the forbidden zone?”
“Everything comes with a price tag, Boss. If she’s letting me in it’s because she wants something in return.”
“And what’s her price?”
“She thinks she’s going to take her old man out and take over the Outfit. But she’s angling to take us down with her old man, too. The bitch has ambition, like that little prick Cassius in that play, you know, the one by Shakespeare.”
“You flashing your fancy education on me, college boy?”
“I’m telling you what she has inside that D-cup bra besides her tits. She thinks she’s going to make a move on all of us. I’m saying we lead her into a snare that just fits her cute little ankle, and then both of those fucking Rossis go down together. She’s the Judas goat who leads her hubby into the lion’s den. She’s not quite as cute as she thinks she is. But she’s our road to Benny Bats. Let her think we’re part of her plot. Let her be ambitious. It’s going to be the least expensive route to that prick. I’m telling you, Tony C. I know what that little gash is all about. She’s trying to set me up, but she wants the whole goddam thing. She thinks she’s the next Boss. Can you fucking feature that?”
“Unprecedented. You gotta give her credit. She’s got bigger balls than her old man.”
The steam was receding and the session was over. The two men walked into the adjacent showers and hosed themselves off with a cold burst from the two showerheads.
After they were cooled down, they toweled off and went to the locker room.
“How come you didn’t get in on the action with Jennifer, Tony?”
Calabrese shot him a dark stare.
“It helps me get ready for something I got going later tonight. She was just a preview of coming attractions.”
Bertelli laughed with a brief snort.
“Let me have her number, will you, Boss?”
“It’s done. You want me to send her over to your club, tonight?”
“That would be very sweet, Tony. You’re too good to me.”
“I take care of my people, Joe.”
Bertelli looked at the Boss of Bosses warily, and then he continued to put his street clothes back on.
*
Ben stalked the house again, that night. Carmen was asleep in the bedroom. She’d clawed him up one more time before she dozed off, and Rossi thought she was taking him out drop by drop, like some vampire, like one o
f those brides of Dracula in the horror flick. It was a sweet bleeding, but he felt sapped out by her. He would have to tell her to back off for a while. And his pecker was becoming a little bit chafed.If she weren’t his old lady, he might have brought in a stud service to calm her down some.
It all began with Nick. He was just a boy. Manhood was still in the future for him. His son would miss out on everything, now. Johansen had stolen that future. High school, college, his first piece of ass. Marriage, family. He would’ve taken over the family with his own. Nick Rossi, Boss of Bosses. Outfit Emperor. It all would’ve been his. Ben would’ve set everything up, and when Benny Bats was ready for retirement, Nick would take that whole kingdom over.
Rossi wanted to kill David Johansen again, tear him out of his grave and do him all by himself, this time. Keep killing him until he turned to dust. He missed his chance with Johansen’s wife and kids. Manny had talked him out of it, and look what happened to Fortunato.
It was that goddam soldier. Had to be. Only someone like that specter of a soldier would be capable of taking out people of the caliber of Fortunato and Cabretta. No ordinary street killer could pull those two whacks off successfully.
Now that Manny was gone, Ben would have to recruit someone of that same level. Manny had some contacts in the military, and now Rossi would have to pick up where Manny left off.
Fight fire with fire. Send in a pro who understands the game.
There had to be someone out there who fit the bill, and Benny Bats had to find him.
He owed it to Nick. He owed it to his only son.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Marilyn balled her fist and her hand shot to her mouth to squelch a scream when she saw his face. He staggered into the cabin and made it to the couch and collapsed atop it. Luckily the girls were already in bed.
Mark was conscious. His left eye was blackened and there were bruises and red welts all over his face, and it was clear that his nose was broken by the way it listed toward the left side of his face.
She released her clenched hand from her mouth. “What happened to you? My God!”
“I’m all right. It looks worse than it is.”
“You’ve never lied to me, so don’t start,” she warned.
She was afraid to touch him. She feared it would hurt wherever her fingers lighted on him.
“We need to get you to emergency,” she told him.
“We’ll have to make something up. I fell off the roof putting shingles on it. How’s that sound?”He tried to smile, but it hurt him too much.
“They might buy it, if the ER doctor is drunk.”
He laughed and it did hurt him and he winced.
“What’re we going to do about the girls?” she asked.
“I drove myself this far. Get me a drink and I’ll try to eat something and I’ll go into the hospital before dawn, before they get up. You’re not leaving them alone. And I’ll leave you the .45. Do you know how to shoot?”
“My dad was a hunter. He showed us how to handle all kinds of guns, pistols, too.”
“Can you hit what you aim at, Marilyn?”
“Yes. I think so.”
“Don’t think so. Anybody comes in here, they won’t be friendly types. Shoot them in the face, or at least somewhere in the chest. That cannon will most definitely knock them down.”
“You’re frightening me, Mark. It’s not like I don’t know what you were doing. You went back there, didn’t you.”
“Yes.”
“There was another killing.”
“I’d call it justified homicide, Marilyn.”
Her face reddened the way it did when she became anxious or flustered. Mark didn’t enjoy bringing it on, the way it looked on her face at the moment.
“I should never have moved you here. I should have settled you far away from me.”
“I don’t want us to be anywhere else. You know how I feel.”
“Maybe we should get you out of here, anyway, when I get my legs back.”
“I won’t go.”
The best he could do was a lame, weak grin.
“You’re tougher than I am, a damn sight tougher.”
“I doubt it…let me get you a drink.”
“Bourbon would be good. Is there anything left in that bottle?”
“I’ll get it.”
She went into the kitchen and retrieved the fifth of Beam. She brought him the decanter and a shot glass. He drank out of the bottle and he yipped when the alcohol met some of his torn flesh. His lips were sliced more than once. But he got a gulp or two down and then handed back the jug to her.
“Jesus Christ, that smarts.”
“Will the police be coming for you?” she asked.
“I don’t think we have to worry about the police.”
“So it’s Rossi.”
“He might be offended by my actions, yes.”
“It isn’t funny, Mark. You have to start thinking about Morgan and Elizabeth.”
“Who do you suppose I’ve been doing this for? It’s for all of you, Marilyn. You trust that Rossi was done with you once David died?”
“Why would he want to hurt us? We didn’t kill his son, and David—”
“He doesn’t think the way you do.”
“Does he think the way you do, Mark? Is that why you’ve got to kill all of them?”
“The men I met with put a plastic bag over David’s head and choked him to death. They asphyxiated him, Marilyn. It’s not a very gentle way to go into that good night. It’s not all that quick, either. And then they dumped my brother into the lake as if he were trash. The two I did were assassins, and they got exactly what assassins deserve.
“It’s what I deserve, when someone catches up with me.”
Mark looked worn out to her. Exhausted. It was a long drive from Chicago to Sawyer, and he was badly mauled by whomever it was that he’d ‘met’ with in the city.
“You need to sleep and stop talking.”
“It’d be safer if I placed you somewhere else as soon as possible, Marilyn.”
“Don’t even think it. I won’t allow it. I love you. Why do you keep talking about getting rid of us? You’re all we’ve got. You’re the only man between us and that gangster animal, Rossi. You just said so yourself. You’re right about him, aren’t you? He’ll want to kill the three of us, and you, too. He won’t let it go. He wants us all dead. He wants us all to pay for his little boy.”
Mark didn’t have a retort, an answer, a counter argument.
“Do you love me or not? Do you love Elizabeth and Morgan?”
He reclined against the pillows of the couch because he didn’t have the energy to sit up again.
“I’ve always thought loving somebody was weakness, vulnerability. It gave the others an angle on you, a way to get at you, a way to maneuver you. And then I inherit the three of you from David, and falling in love with you was never going to be part of the plan.
“But it’s done and there’s no changing it.
“He was going to murder all of you from the beginning. That’s how Rossi reasons. Hit me, and I kill everyone who’s connected to you. It’s the way these thugs work. They’re all paranoid fucks. But they’re not unusual, in my world. They want to eliminate everyone on the field, even three harmless females like you and the girls. They have no room for mercy or quarter in that cinder that takes the place of a heart in their chests. Believe me, they aren’t really human. Only just in appearance. They’re evil things, Marilyn. Forget the bullshit that we’re all human.
“So I morphed into a creature just like them. I’ve got to liquidate all those who threaten me. David was helpless, but I’m not. He was always gentle. I never was. I was always the aggressive brother. He was the meek one, but he’s not around to inherit anything, is he.
“You see who I really am? You see me for what I am, now? That’s why I want you to leave. But you’re right, I’m the only man standing between you three and Rossi, and that’s why I have to finish it. When
it’s over, you need to put a continent between us.”
She looked as though she were going to drop where she stood.
“Marilyn?”
“You’ll have to throw us out in the street. I told you I won’t leave you and I will not.”
She summoned some reserve in her that stiffened her spine against him.
“Jesus Christ, you’re stubborn.”
“You have no idea, Mark. You probably think I’m just some plain housewife that might fall to pieces with the first sign of a big wind. But I’m stronger than you can imagine. And if any son of a bitch walks in this house looking for trouble I’ll blow his brains out with that weapon of yours.”
He had to laugh, and it hurt him when he did.
“You need to eat. Then you need to sleep.”
His eyes filled involuntarily.
“Are you in pain?” she asked.
He tried to rise, but he fell back onto the couch again.
“God, that was a stupid thing to say,” she told him. “I’ll make you something to eat.”
“Come sit next to me.”
She walked over to him and sat close on the three-seater.
He took her left hand. His knuckles were raw and battered.
“All right. What happens from now on happens to the four of us. You wouldn’t want to marry me, would you?”
She choked up and couldn’t speak.
“I know I’m no romantic, but it’d make sure you got all my things if it doesn’t work out well and I’m not around. I mean if I’m not here anymore. The police…or Rossi. And if he doesn’t do us all, I want you to have whatever I own. At least it’d be legal. I’ll make a will before anything else happens. We’ll put all the money I’ve got into an account with your name on it.”
The dam burst and she wept. He managed to put his arm over her left shoulder.
“Hell of a proposal, no? But this honeymoon has been pretty goddam good, Marilyn. I didn’t think I’d ever be happy in this lousy fucking life.”
“Shut up, Mark. I’ll make you something to eat.”
She tried to rise.
“I’m not hungry. Just stay with me. Here. Just stay with me.”
*
He rose at 4:30. He ached so badly and he got to his feet so awkwardly that he thought he’d wake her up. There was no way to make love to her, so all he could do was lie as close to Marilyn as his agony allowed. She slept hard. He’d tired her out in an emotional way, he knew, and she was oblivious to his early morning struggles.
