by S. W. Frank
“Humph, still out!” The man sneered, finding no fun in torturing Alfonzo if he were unconscious. Soon the tranquilizer would wear off and he’d bring Nico inside to let him watch. He called his mama to tell her their loved ones were avenged and then put away his cell to look back at his prisoner. “For you, I plan to take your eyes!” He then laughed and walked to the door.
Alfonzo heard the footsteps recede. The door shut and the sound of a heavy handle locked into place.
His head lifted.
The motherfucker was crazy, he determined before sliding to the hole to see how Lucia was faring.
“Lucia, chica, hold on, do you hear me?”
She mumbled his name. The words were louder. “Take me home, por favore.”
“You’re going home Lucia. On my life, I’ll make sure.” He promised to give her that kick of hope. But she needed to help herself. She had the means right at her feet. “Slip your feet out Lucia. Come on try.”
“Aaaahhh!” she groaned as she tugged her legs up and like he thought, her feet were loose.
“Good –bueno. Now use your feet and get the lamp down chica, come on hustle your ass Lucia.”
Alfonzo listened for anyone coming as she grunted, swung and failed to capture the industrial light hooked to the beam.
“Come on you can do it mami. You walk around in high heels. That shit takes leg muscles to do.”
She grunted real loud and captured the edge of the covering, held on with her toes and then it began slipping loose. Lucia growled and Alfonzo smirked to see her Giacanti spirit emerge. When she recaptured the base, her thigh muscles bulged and Alfonzo thought of his wife.
Lucia lowered the lamp to the floor.
“Go chica. Now here’s where it get hard. You’re going to feel pain but you have to do what I tell you. First try and see if your hands can pull out of the cuffs.”
Alfonzo watched. Her thin wrists were reddened and the more she pulled the color deepened. Then when she had believed the effort was futile, her hands slipped loose. Exhausted Lucia dropped to her knees.
Alfonzo grinned with pride. “Good going Lucia, but you’re not done yet. You want to go home, right?” Then he heard the door and told Lucia to go near her door with the lamp. “Hurry,” he said, “Stay there and you hit anybody that comes in!”
***
Darren leaned on the door as the vehicle searched yet another location. They were on the move all morning following dead ends, seeing no return on the mileage.
The guards riding up front were his Zia’s people who knew every inch of Sicily and the underground locations where persons of ill repute frequented.
The scenery he viewed was both ugly and pretty. From Cefalu to the province of Palermo, old Arab-Norman buildings met squalor. Like many places there are sections where natives fear to go. They traveled in those areas without concern and departed as they had come.
He’d checked his watch, frustrated that hours had passed since leaving the house and yet nothing hopeful transpired. He took comfort that he at least had his brother nearby and Sergio.
Although equally distressed, Sergio provided the distraction with stories of his escapades leading up to meeting their dad.
He tried not to cry, especially when Sergio said, “They must’ve cold clocked Nico ‘cause he’d have to be out of commission for anybody to kill that poor girl. I’ve seen Nico in action and it aint no way he didn’t fight and I’m sure he did to save Anna. Damn, I’m hoping we find something soon. Not knowing whether Lucia or Nico and ‘em is dead or alive is killing me, word!”
Darren swallowed. Sergio was right. Anna was dead. His dad probably died too and if he had, he wanted his dad’s body. See, closure for an enforcer’s sons means giving him a burial with honor. The sacred site of the Giacanti’s holds their ancestors remains. That is where Vincenzo’s ashes lie and where Zia Sophie promised Anna would be interred.
Darren sniffled, wiped his eyes and sat up straight. He watched the morning pass to afternoon, losing hope. The shops and plazas had begun to fill, all the activity were signs to Darren that the world turned regardless of tragedy. He thought of his father, and their conversations about many subjects.
He recalled a recent interaction with his dad, right before his trip to finalize his college arrangements in the states. They’d been play boxing, wrestling and horsing around as usual. He’d exchanged punches with his dad, but his dad got the best of him, put him in a mock chokehold that turned into an affectionate hug.
His dad had laughed. “Hey, you’re finally almost out of the house. When you leave I’m going to miss doing this, so I better get in as many of these as I can.”
The memory made Darren smile a little. That was his dad, fun and lovable, not everything centered on his job. He wasn’t crazy, just a person who had a duty of protection that involved eliminating adversaries.
Sergio observed the twins. They resembled their father. Long limbs and angular jawline, and that sneer type thing to the nostrils they inherited as well. He frowned, wishing he had spent his years not in a cold home but the warmth of a parent who saw goodness even in a bad child.
He hadn’t been a bad kid. Constantly, being demeaned and told he wouldn’t amount to shit by his mom kind of’ made him believe. He forgave her though, yeah, he had to, how could he stay angry when she gave him life?
Come to think of it, he was grateful, he thought because he saw both sides.
“Hey what’s your deal?” Sergio asked Lorenzo to break the ice.
All eyes were on Lorenzo.
“My deal?”
“Yeah, we’re your from? You have a weird accent.”
“Greece.”
“Greece, huh? Sorry about your family man. I’m sure you want revenge as mush as we do.” Sergio stated.
“Thanks.”
Unlike, the group, Lorenzo didn’t have their shared history. To them he was an outsider and they were curious about him. They looked upon a man of Alfonzo’s age in a worn leather jacket, comfortable jeans that had seen better days loosely hugging bulging thighs, cuts and dark tattoos staring back. They saw an interesting man, who likely had a sordid past.
They were right and wrong.
He wasn’t much different than they were. He had a complex bunch of relatives, from smuggler to legitimate professional. His cousin with the Porsche was a software engineer and his sister a meteorologist. He’d been the rebel, and gone into the family business content to be the muscle. He got to travel, party and mingle with all sorts of characters and loved it. Problem is Lorenzo loved the seediness of living too much. He’d been cleaning up his act, right before the murders, unfortunately, he’d gone right back to drinking and smoking a lot.
“You think these people wanted revenge against Nico?”
Lorenzo glanced at the twins. He didn’t want to disclose what Sophie Dichenzo confided in their presence. They suffered, especially the youth staring aimlessly out of the window. Would he love his killer father less if he were aware the seed of revenge possibly began when Nico Serano hit an entire family and severed the victim’s finger?
Thanks to Sophie Dichenzo’s recollection, there was a name, Maher Davit, the son of the Armenian smuggler, Nico assassinated by order of Vasos Tsiakrokis and sanctioned by the Giacanti brothers.
Maher Davit was a veterinarian and lived with his mother. The picture they downloaded from the Internet matched the face of the man he’d seen. Maher likely abducted Lucia and tortured her to death for information. Lorenzo did not plan to say that to her husband. Nico Serano’s home was very hard to find and only a close family member had knowledge of his address Sophie had said.
The unsolved mystery was how Mahe
r tracked the murders to the Tsiakrokis’ and Giacanti or why he killed the Cuvato family?
Lorenzo’s focus went to the man who bore a slight resemblance to the youth, something about their noses, he supposed. The guy Sergio was shorter than the lanky teens by a few inches. Ironic, the eldest sibling isn’t the tallest. He had an amicable sad quality. Lorenzo assumed he was the black sheep, likely their half-brother who caused trouble out of resentment to his parent for not being there.
Lorenzo did not care to carry the childish thoughts of such things in his mind. The Parents are fallible and what matters is how the child copes with that as an adult.
“Yes, I think so. Your father when he is found can tell us for sure.”
Sergio shifted uncomfortably.
Aaron leaned forward.
Darren heard but he didn’t care.
“Wait,” Aaron responded. “Sergio you’re my brother?”
Lorenzo’s brow furrowed. Ah, the Family Secrets Revealed, Episode One.
“I found out last night. Vin switched roles. Think of sex pranks and fucked up stuff twins do to girls and I’m the result. I’ve been thinking Vin’s my pops all this time and it’s my Unk.”
Lorenzo’s ears fluttered at the mention of Vincenzo.
“Whoa,” Aaron gushed. He peeked at Darren. They had talked about stuff like that and hadn’t tried it, but either way it must be fucked up to be the result of a joke.
“It’s doesn’t matter. If dad’s dead, none of that matters.” Darren said maturely. He looked at Sergio. “What’s the next move bro?”
The youth had turned to him for leadership and he provided guidance. “Guys you’re good at computers right?”
“Yeah.”
“Think, is there anyway to track him…Unk…our dad?” And then they all exchanged knowing looks.
Excitement.
Kids who cracked a code all shouted for the driver to go to the house.
Sergio remembered Nico’s computer gadget thing he’d used to locate Lucia.
Aaron and Darren thought of the trackers in their watches and maybe their dad had one, too.
Lorenzo thought of Chocolate lying naked in his hotel room. He had something to look forward to.
Chapter 25
Selange rotated Alfonzo’s platinum watch on her wrist over and over as she listened to the children playing in the den with Semira. Ari was on her third cup of herbal tea, and a second helping of Anita’s stuffed pastry.
They were at the dining table, cell phones at the ready. They hadn’t spoken much. What good with that do? What point would it be to say what is clearly known?
Their husbands were gone and each hour hope faded.
The Capo occasionally updated Selange on the search results from the persons in the field. He remained on the property, along with reinforcements they received from the ‘Ndrangheta faction related to Nico. They also had people on the ground looking for Maher Davit as well.
Time moves fast. The afternoon had come and she prepared her mind for what she must do to buy their family extended time. She found where the meeting was to be held, a B&B near the upscale hotels.
How?
She rotated the metal, smooth and hard it massaged.
Alfonzo was a clever man, and he married an intelligent woman.
A travel magazine, a folded page, a spread on a new Bread and Breakfast opening in Palermo that Alfonzo never reads was the key. Alfonzo was a traveler who experienced locales that were often non-traditional and touristy. Like his wife, they went off the beaten path a lot, and shied away from the in-places unless a must. Security was foremost in his mind. Large crowds in easily accessible public areas were often avoided.
So, she surmised this meeting, at the B&B he certainly had scouted, found the choice unsuitable, and suspected he was attending his last supper.
Perhaps, he was right, she thought; yet she was a woman with keys to unlock closed doors. She planned to go to that meeting and renegotiate the contract or die.
Simple.
“Hey Selange, you have to eat something.” Ari advised.
“No thanks Ari, I’m fine.” Selange smiled wearily. She was glad to have Ari in her life. Perhaps, she needed to tell her that and she did. “I want you to know I love you very much and everything I never did right I tried to make up for. I know I’ve hurt you Ari…and…and I am extremely sorry. I want you to know that the only reason I didn’t listen to your proposal is because I worried Ari…. I worried so much that one day you’d get yourself caught up and get taken away from us.”
“Oh shut up before you make me cry. That’s it; you’re officially worse than a talk show host brings out the crybaby in people. Stop it, go somewhere with your sweet ass.”
Selange rose. “Do me a favor Ari, can you keep an eye on things for a minute. There’s something I want to do.”
Ari nodded an assent. “All right.”
That was the conversation and the farewell.
***
Giuseppe was ecstatic to arrive home. He’d turned off his cell to rest, exhausted from the mental drain of funerals. Nicole’s mother had been overly solicitous, completely persistent and annoying as hell. The usage of, ‘I insist,’ often attached at the end of her sentence or ‘that settles it’ was another closing remark.
The father nodded a lot. Many times since their arrival, Giuseppe sat across from the elder person and watched him nodding himself to sleep.
Giuseppe surmised that thirty years of marriage rendered the man ineffectual. Insisting and settling can elicit spousal compliance. When he awakened the aroma of food brought him to the table where Nicole and Carlo waited, aware the aroma might wake the bear.
He worked the prongs into the fish, spearing the trawl, holding it up for inspection and watching as it folded along the handle –dead.
“Must you play with the food Geo? Don’t eat it.” Nicole stated irritably at Giuseppe’s example of bad manners in front of Carlo.
He smirked. Having a mama as a chef may be responsible for his harsh criticism of a layperson’s dishes.
The elongated period of grieving had mourned him straight back to Sicily in a foul mood.
The somberness of death should not follow every waking hour. The tears from his wife and solemn expression left Giuseppe impatient. He wanted normalcy, and pretending to be the supportive husband had become tiresome. The truth was he wished to seize his wife, shake her awake to make her see life is dark but it is also vibrant.
When he censured his unsympathetic indifference; the result was a display of boorish behavior.
“I am done. Grazie.”
Nicole scoffed. “Fine, don’t eat.”
Their discussion was interrupted by an orchestral ringtone. He took the call from Salvatore, his nipote.
“Ah, nipote Buongiorno!”
“Uncle Geo, are you on your way?” Sal exclaimed.
“Cosa? Why Salvatore, what is wrong? Has your papa killed Gee with mistreatment?”
“No Zio, Gee’s right here. It’s dad. He’s missing.”
“Cosa?”
“I tried calling you many times Zio. Nico and Lucia are missing, also. Anna’s dead and everybody’s scouting for the killers. Now mom’s leaving and I think you need to hurry and get here before she does. Mom shouldn’t be going anywhere until dad’s found.”
Giuseppe absorbed the news. He’d been in flight and hadn’t checked his calls and then h
e grew angry that none of his men thought to inform him. He wondered if that was his mama’s doing, thinking herself protector of his feelings!
He leaped up, and his fork clanked to the plate. “Okay nipote. I will leave ora.” He then immediately called the driver and then his mama.
“Buongiorno Geo, I was just preparing to call you.”
“You should have called immediately!" Giuseppe exclaimed walking away from the table, and walking swiftly to fetch shoes and his jacket.
“You were on a plane Geo. I saw no need to distress you at that time. I thought it best for you to arrive safely first, capisce?”
“We will speak of this face-to-face.” He scowled and disconnected. He slipped his arm in the thin wool as he marched to the door.
Nicole leaned over the table. “What’s going on? Are you seriously cutting out on me?”
“My fratellino is missing. We must leave for my fratellino’s home. Fretta!”
“Now? I’m sorry Geo but the last thing I need is to be surrounded by more tragedy while I’m grieving.”
“Your sorella is dead. She is not missing!” Giuseppe exclaimed.
The insensitive remark took Nicole aback. “You are callous.”
“I speak the truth.” Giuseppe looked at his son. “Papa must go, collect your things Carlo.”
When his son scurried off, Nicole frowned. “So, you’re leaving and taking Carlo?”
“You can sit in your grief but Carlo will not be your company and neither will I!”
“Fine, act the mule.” Nicole stood when Carlo appeared with his favorite toy. She stroked his cheek. “Take care sweetheart.”
Giuseppe took his son’s hand. “Tell mama ciao.”
“Geo,” Nicole stated with a hint of frustration. “I know you’re concerned about your brother but does that mean you have to shut the door emotionally on me?”
Perhaps he had, however he was unaccustomed to thinking about another’s feelings during an impending crisis. Having a wife is limiting. Women expect lengthy discussions when practicality required expediency.
