by Rusty Kontos
“Well, I better be goin’. I’ll have someone stay with you while I walk to the station with your little girl.”
The cop left Nick’s room and returned to Nickole waiting outside the door. Then the two of them left for the train station. Along the way, Nickole stopped
for a moment, and looked at the cop squarely in the eye and asked, “What’s your name?”
“Why, it’s Daniel O’Shea.”
“Can I call you Danny?”
“Why, of course you can darlin’. All my friends do, and you are my friend, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
O’Shea started to say something else, but his voice trailed off as he changed it to asking Nickole another question instead. “Nickole, don’t turn around now, but there are two men across the street and they seem to be followin’ us. Now, I want you to start walking very slowly and sort of glance over their way. Then tell me if you know them or have ever seen them before.”
“Why, Danny?”
“I will tell you later, okay?”
“Okay, Danny!” Nickole started walking, then with a side-glance she spoke to O’Shea without looking at him. She saw that the two men were Scallenie and Gallucio. “Those are the two men who came to my house yesterday.”
“Do you know why they came?”
“Yes. They came to tell Mama about Papa.”
“I see. Then they must work for your father.”
“I guess so...I don’t know. All I know is what I told ya.”
“Well, until I find out for sure, I will meet you and see that you get to and from your train alright.”
From that day on, Danny and Nickole became very good friends. As for Scallenie and Gallucio, they had been sent to follow Nickole – and it was not by her father.
CHAPTER TEN
Scallenie and Gallucio walked into an office building on Clark Street. They took the elevator to the tenth floor. They got off and opened a door that read ‘Thomas Luchino, Attorney at Law’, and went in. Scallenie flirted with the secretary for a few moments. “Hey, Doll, how ‘bout you and me, say we
go out tonight? I can show ya a good time. Come on, what ya say?”
“No thank you. I would much rather go out with a rattlesnake,” the woman said curtly to Scallenie. Then very business-like, she asked them to state their business.
Scallenie let out his insane-like laugh. Then with a smirk, he told her they wanted to see Luchino. She picked up her phone, pressing a button. She paused, and then spoke through the receiver, trying to avoid Scallenie’s cold staring eyes. “Mr. Luchino, there are two men out here wanting to see you. It’s Scallenie and Gallucio.”
“Send them right in,” the voice on the other end of the phone replied.
“Yes, sir...you may go in now.”
“Thanks, Baby,” said Scallenie, as he brushed his hand over her breast.
“Drop dead!” The woman replied as she pushed his hand away. Scallenie only laughed and headed for the door to Luchino’s private office.
Luchino, a short, fat, squatty man with big fish-like eyes, was sitting behind a huge desk, thumbing through some papers when Scallenie and Gallucio came in. He was in his late forties and balding. He looked up at Scallenie and Gallucio, asking in a wheezing voice, “Well, did you get rid of the kid?”
“Well, not exactly.” Scallenie said, as he calmly sat in the chair, manicuring his fingernails with his switchblade.
“Not exactly!” Luchino screamed at him, slamming his fist on the desk. “What the hell do you mean, not exactly? Either you did or you didn’t.”
“We couldn’t do it.” Scallenie answered coldly.
“I send you out to knock off a bastard kid, and you come back, and all you do is sit there on your ass and
say ‘not exactly’?” Luchino screamed at him, slamming his fist on the desk again. “Why the fuck couldn’t you?”
“We couldn’t do it,” Scallenie answered coldly. “Because the kid had a cop with her, that’s why!”
“Well, why didn’t you say so in the first place?”
“You didn’t give me a chance to.” Scallenie scornfully replied.
“Do you think Colletti suspects something, Mike?” Luchino asked with a worried look on his face.
“I don’t know, but maybe you should give the Big Boss a call.”
“Yes, maybe I should. I think I will do that right now.” Luchino picked up his phone and dialed a number. “Hello, is Joe there? Where can I reach him? It’s important...This is Tom Luchino, that’s who. Now where can he be reached?” Luchino jotted down a number on a piece of paper as the man on the other end gave it to him. He hung up the phone, saying in a disgusted tone of voice as he dialed the other number, “He must be fucking one of his whores again. I don’t see how they can make any money for him. The bastard’s always got one or two of them in bed with him.”
The phone rang nine or ten times before an angry man’s voice answered, “YEAH!” Joe Torrio said, standing naked by a bed. A woman was lying on the bed, her naked body outstretched on her stomach. She played with his testicles while he talked on the phone.
“Joe, this is Tom. We got a little trouble.”
“Like what kind of little trouble?” Joe demanded.
“Don’t get upset, Joe. Mike and Johnny, they couldn’t get to the kid. She had a cop with her.”
“A COP!”
“Yeah, a cop. Do you think Colletti suspects that we tried to knock him off?”
“No, I don’t think so. However, just in case, forget about the kid for now. We can take care of her later. If it looks like he is going to make it, we make sure he doesn’t by sending Mike and Johnny to finish him off as they were supposed to do in the first place. You tell them this time they had better not fuck up! They had better make damn sure he is dead. Because if they don’t do it right this time, I will get someone who can and they will be in the same grave with him. Is that clear?”
“Yeah Joe, sure, I’ll tell them. I understand.”
“One more thing, tell those two fucking idiots they can get the kid any time. If she has a cop keeping an eye on her, they aren’t to do anything to her here. Do it in Bedville.”
“Okay, Joe, anything you say.”
“Now, you fat little bastard, don’t call me again unless it’s life or death. I was getting a damn good blow job until you called and spoiled it.”
“I’m sorry, Joe. But I though you should know.”
“That’s okay, Tom. I was just kidding. Hey look, paisan, you need to relax more. Why don’t you come out to my place and I’ll get you a couple of broads who will do anything you want them to, okay?”
“Yeah, sure Joe. One of these days. But I am too busy right now.”
“Okay, Tom. You keep in touch, and when you’re ready to come out, give me a call.”
“Sure Joe, I’ll do that. See ya,” Luchino said as he hung up the phone.
“That fucking cock-hound, one of these days a woman will be the cause of his death. He’ll poke his
dick into the wrong broad.” Then Luchino became more serious as he filled Mike and Johnny in on his phone call with Torrio.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
December 24, 6:15 a.m.
O’Shea came to work at the hospital as he always did. Six `o clock every morning, to guard Colletti from any further attempts on his life. He stationed himself on a chair in front of Nick’s room, as he always did since the first day he was assigned to Colletti’s case. The corridors were deserted this time of morning, except for a few nurses on duty and two strangers lurking in the shadows. The two strangers were Scallenie and Gallucio, who were easing their way down the hall to the linen room where all of the doctors’ surgical clothes were kept.
Scallenie opened the door quickly and stepped in, with Gallucio behind him. Scallenie took off his hat,
overcoat and suit coat, and hung them on a hook. Then very quickly, he put on a surgical outfit over his pants and shirt. Looking at Gallucio, he said
, “Remember, you keep that cop busy while I take care of Colletti.” Johnny nodded in agreement, then Mike told him to look outside to see if the coast was clear. Johnny poked his head out the door, looking in both directions to see if anyone was out in the hall. With one hand behind, he motioned to Mike that it was all clear. They walked out into the hall and started in the direction of Nick’s room.
O’Shea got up from his chair as they approached him. Johnny spoke first: “Good morning, Officer O’Shea isn’t it?”
O’Shea cautiously looked at him as he answered, “Why yes, I am O’Shea. What can I do for you?”
“I’m Lieutenant John LaPaole, F.B.I.” He handed a phony identification to O’Shea. As O’Shea examined it, Johnny went on to say, “I want to talk to Mr. Colletti. Doctor Walters here says I have to clear it with you first.”
O’Shea glanced at them from one to the other, then said, “Your I.D. looks official enough, Lieutenant. I guess it will be alright.”
Then Scallenie, speaking up very quickly said, “Not yet, Officer. I must examine my patient first to see if he is up to having a visitor such as the Lieutenant.” Scallenie was inside the room before O’Shea could give him an answer.
O’Shea was studying Johnny’s face very carefully, trying to remember where he had seen him before. Johnny stood there very nervously, trying to avoid O’Shea’s suspicious eyes.
Inside Nick’s room, Scallenie was standing by his bed, connecting the silencer on the barrel of his gun. Scallenie looked down at Nick as he was peacefully sleeping. He put the gun to Nick’s head, started to pull the trigger, then he stopped and thought to himself, ‘Now, this is too easy for you, Mr. Colletti. I want you awake so you can see the gun when it goes off in your face as I pull the trigger.’ Scallenie nudged Nick’s head with the end of the gun.
“Wake up, Mr. Colletti! It’s me, your old friend Mike Scallenie. I got a Christmas present for ya.”
Nick slowly opened his eyes, then turning white, he flinched at the sight of the gun that was staring him directly in the face. Nick knew he was about to die if he didn’t try to get some help. “Why do you want to kill me, Mike? Haven’t I always been fair to you?”
“Sure you have, but this ain’t personal. It’s business. I got orders from Luchino and Torrio to kill you. They want you dead.”
“But why do you follow their orders? I am over them. I am their boss. Why do they want me dead?”
“Well, it’s like this... they tell me that the order to kill you is from the top.”
“Mike, it can’t be. Don’t you see that my death would
only give them my power? That is why they want me dead, so they can take over everything?”
“I can’t see nothin’, Mr. Colletti, except the money I collect for killin’ you.”
Nick tried to keep Scallenie talking as long as he could. Nick saw his buzzer pinned to his pillow, next
to his head. It was just inches away from his reach. Beads of sweat dampened his forehead as he tried to ease his hand to the buzzer to ring for help at the nurse’s station. A little more, he thought, just a little more. His hand clutched, his finger closed around the buzzer. Nick’s thumb was about the push down right on the buzzer’s button, when Scallenie spotted what he was about to do. Scallenie thrust the gun to Nick’s head and pulled the trigger. The gun went off with a noise no louder than a hand slap. The bullet entered Nick’s head, just above the right eye, making a neat, clean little hole, no bigger than the bullet that had gone in. It came out through the top of his head with a more violent exit, spraying a shower of blood, flesh, and skull fragments, and covering the top half of Nick’s pillow and the sleeves and cuffs of the white medical jacket that Scallenie was wearing.
Nick’s eyes became a dead, dull glaze. Blood streamed down his cheek from the small bullet hole just above his eye. This time Nick Colletti was truly
dead.
Only a few seconds had passed since the time of Nick’s death. O’Shea and Johnny were still talking
outside of his door. All at once, O’Shea recognized who Johnny and Scallenie were. “Now I remember
where I have seen you.” Johnny tensed up. O’Shea went for his gun. Nevertheless, Johnny was much
faster. He hit O’Shea knocking him through the door and into Nick’s room, where Scallenie was still standing over Nick’s body.
Scallenie turned his head in a quick movement at the noise Johnny made with the banging door. It swung open when he hit O’Shea, causing O’Shea’s body to crash through it and fall to his knees on the floor.
“Hey, what the hell are you doing, Johnny? Are you crazy?”
“He knows who we are. He said so as he tried to pull his gun on me.”
“Oh he does, does he?”
“You want me to tie him up so we can get the hell out of here?”
“Tie him up?! Johnny boy, we just can’t tie him up and be on our way. He knows who we are and before we can get ten blocks from here, every cop in town will be looking for us. No, Johnny boy, we don’t tie him up. You got to kill him so he can’t never finger us for Colletti’s murder.”
“Mike! You can’t kill him!”
“Not me, Johnny, you. You’re going to kill him.”
Mike, listen to me! With Colletti was one thing, but killing a cop! Well that’s something else. By killing him that will mean every cop will be on our ass! They will hunt us down like animals, MIKE!”
Scallenie took a step forward, stopping in front of Johnny and O’Shea, “Johnny, I said KILL HIM!”
“NO!! I won’t do it, not a cop.”
“I think you have gone soft, Johnny! Well, I haven’t.” Before Johnny could stop Scallenie, he raised his gun to O’Shea’s head, aiming directly between his eyes. As he pulled the trigger, he said, “Goodbye, Mr. Policeman, see you in heaven if I ever get there.”
O’Shea’s body made a thud as it hit the floor. Scallenie bent over O’Shea’s body, put the gun right against his bleeding forehead and fired the gun twice again. Johnny almost became ill at the sight.
“Mike, you are crazy!” He screamed at him.
Scallenie looked up at Johnny. He looked more like a mad dog than a man. “You shouldn’t say things like that about me, Johnny! I don’t like to be called crazy. But I’ll forget it for now, because we got to get the hell out of here before somebody comes in and I have to kill them, too.”
“Okay Mike, forget it. I’m sorry, let’s go.”
“That’s better, kid.”
Mike and Johnny left the room that smelled of death, and went to the doctor’s room. Mike changed his bloody outfit and they left for the elevator on which they had earlier arrived. They were out of the building in a matter of minutes and walking down the street to where they had a car waiting for them. They got in and drove off. Scallenie drove to Cicero. There he pulled the car to a halt into a back alley, behind a row of nightclubs. Johnny gave Scallenie a look of surprise as he said, “Hey, Mike! Why are we stopping here?”
Scallenie sat there for a moment, a smile on his face. He suddenly broke out into a hideous laugh.
“Hey, what the hell is so damn funny, Mike?”
Scallenie stopped laughing. Then he turned his cold, deadly snake-like eyes on Johnny, saying, “Don’t you know, Johnny?”
“Know what, Mike?”
“The family don’t need you anymore. You ain’t got no guts. You’re soft like a dumb broad. The family don’t need you and I don’t need you. So I’m doin’ the family a favor and myself one, too. Now open the door, Johnny.”
“Look, Mike, this is crazy. If you take it on yourself to kill me, how will you explain it to the family?”
“I’ll just tell them you tried to double-cross them. You tried to stop me from killin’ Colletti. That’s how I tell it, Johnny boy.” Scallenie pulled his gun and fired. Johnny felt the bullet burn its way inside, between his ribcage. Then he felt the warm flow of blood gushing out of his side. Everything went black but he could still hear the roarin
g laughter of Scallenie echoing in his ears. Scallenie pushed Johnny the rest of the way out of the car. His body made a loud thud as it hit the pavement. His head crashed into a row of garbage cans, bouncing off like a limp rag doll. Scallenie sped off, laughing like a mad man, speeding as if he was on a racetrack. He took the corner of the alley with his car on two wheels. It screeched down the street, leaving Johnny in the alley, for dead.
A woman leaned out of her window to see what all the noise was about at that time of morning. When she looked down and saw Johnny lying in the alley, she called the police and an ambulance. They found that Johnny was not dead, and he was taken to a nearby hospital.
7:00 A.M.
A nurse was making her rounds, passing out the breakfast trays. She opened the door to Nick’s room.
She dropped the tray she was holding. It hit the floor as she stood there screaming in shock.
7:30 a.m.
Police, trying to get a lead on the one responsible for O’Shea’s and Colletti’s death, surrounded the entire hospital. O’Shea’s body was wheeled out from the room on a cart. Lieutenant Peter Russo was the investigating officer. He had been on the department twenty years and was a very close friend to O’Shea. He was a tough-looking man of forty-five, with dark hair and eyes that now sadly stared at the bloodstained sheet that covered the violently murdered body of his friend and colleague.
“Hey, Lieutenant!” One of the other cops called to Russo. He looked up toward the man that was calling him. “Lieutenant, you want me to tell his wife?” The man said as he came to stand next to Russo.
“No, this I have to do myself. Might be a little easier for her if it comes from me.”
“Sure, Lieutenant, I’m sorry. I forgot that you and Danny were like family.”
“That’s okay. Forget it.” Russo said as he headed for the elevators. As he reached the elevators, Tom Brannigan, a uniformed cop, was standing next to the elevator doors. As he pushed the button for down, Russo said to him, “Look, if anyone wants me, I will be at Danny’s house. I’ve got to tell his wife. I will make out the report later at the station house. So you guys finish up here.”
