Chapter Thirty-three
AS IF BY design, the cemetery yawned open and empty of visitors. Fred knew where Donato Giuffrida would be. Clutching the flowers in hand, he followed the path to Donato. He sighted Donato, a salt and pepper haired man with matching bushy moustache, heavy-set frame standing at five-foot-ten, seated on a bench before the Giuffrida mausoleum. Two men stood a discreet distance away. Kneeling in front of the headstone next to Donato, Fred placed the flowers in the holder, and bowed his head.
“I’ve information on the package we discussed,” Fred said quietly. Part of Fred hated himself for doing this, talking to a known criminal and setting up what Fred suspected would be a hit. Until he reminded himself who they spoke of and the atrocities he’d conducted, the barbaric attack on Claire’s friend, inadvertent murder of Lorraine Mills, and the attempt to assist in the annihilation of the man next to him, his uncle. “Package will be picked up at six tomorrow from the mortuary, crated and transported to the train station. Further travel to New York. Big Bill Dwyer will be on a train leaving at eight-twenty.”
“Status of package?” Donato asked.
“Alive, medicated to keep…civil.”
Donato nodded. “The package will have air?”
“An Oxygen Concentrator will be attached to the container.” Fred shuffled his feet, for circulation and for the niggling of guilt at being here and disclosing this information. His friends wanted to punish Bennett, not kill him, and make him severely uncomfortable for a while. The ultimate hope of Fred’s was Dwyer would handle that undertaking. Which is why Fred hadn’t told anyone about this meeting. He assumed Donato had no intention of letting Bennett live.
“You’re doing the right thing,” Donato said. “Be at peace with that knowledge.”
“Are you going to kill him?” The cop in Fred had to know, even if it didn’t change the outcome or the fact he’d assist in the crime.
“Second thoughts?”
“None at all. Curious, I guess, maybe confirming for my own peace of mind.”
Donato rose from the bench, his men instantly at his sides. He stared directly at Fred. “Rest assured. Bennett will not do to another woman what he’s gotten away with so far. Some crimes cannot be ignored.”
Fred watched Donato and men leave. He gave them a few minutes lead-time, before walking to his own car. If this meeting lost him his place in heaven, Fred wouldn’t lose sleep over it. There was a special place for men like Bennett, and Fred knew Donato Giuffrida would send him there with a one-way-ticket.
CLAIRE AND FIVE other women were silent as they walked a smirking Quinn—he mostly stumbling—to a cluttered yet deserted alley a block from one of Eldon Graham’s restaurants. She and three of the women were from the neighborhood, had grown up with Fiona and her family. Two of the women, Dorcas and Molly, Claire met through Ian who introduced them as Fiona’s friends from the Finn persona.
“This will do,” Claire said, once well away from possible prying eyes. Quinn accepted the invitation under a misunderstanding. Claire knew Quinn had the impression they would console him for the loss of his daughter—with sex. The setting sun brought a chill to the air. It seemed fitting, considering the coldness toward this man in the hearts of the women present.
What they planned for him was far more heinous. Claire had learned from Ian how Quinn had not only shared Fiona’s true gender with Eldon Graham, but while Jimmy Bennett savagely raped and beat Fiona near to death, Quinn literally sat and watched. Fiona’s prognosis for survival was still uncertain. Though she didn’t glance to confirm, Claire suspected Margaret watched, since she’d planned to do this deed herself, but Claire wanted this. No, she needed to do this, wanted to do something for Fiona, her friend who held her heart. Claire wasn’t a violent person by nature, but she and the others couldn’t let Quinn go unpunished. This was justice. Justice in the only way they bring it, with neighborhood justice.
“Yeah, this’ll do,” Quinn slurred. He placed the bottle of booze on the crate beside him, but bumped into it unsteadily and the bottle fell to ground with a crash of broken glass. Quinn unzipped his pants, letting the garment pool around his ankles. “So, who’s first?”
“That would be me,” Molly said. She sauntered closer to him, and then slammed a fist into his jaw with surprising strength. Quinn staggered backward with a hiss of disbelief.
The first blow loosed, the rest of the women took turns punching and kicking him. A couple women picked up nearby objects to use as weapons, with no body part ignored in the punishment. The pummeling only lasted a few minutes. When Quinn lay barely conscious in a bloody heap among the refuse, Claire called a halt.
As the women moved away from him, Claire stepped forward. “All Fiona wanted from you was love. You were supposed to protect her.” Claire shook her head. “She kept the roof over your head, worked hard and you squandered her money on drink. Me and mine wash our hands of ya’, Quinn.” Claire turned to the five women. “We’re done here. The trash has been tossed.”
MARGARET FELT NO sympathy for Quinn. After what he witnessed, participated in by giving away Fiona’s secret, the man deserved every bit of inflicted pain. She paused leaving the safety of her hiding place when the sound of returning footsteps had her pulling back into the shadows. She watched Dorcas as she hurried back to where Quinn lay moaning, trying ineffectually to get to his feet, hindered further by his pants binding his ankles.
Dorcas glared at him with disgust. “Fathers are supposed to defend and protect their daughters. So many of you fail miserably, mostly ’cause you don’t really try. How, you putrid worm, can you call yourself a man?”
“Fucking bitch,” Quinn grumbled through split lips, blood spraying with the vehemence of his words.
“Glad to see you’ve learned your lesson.” Glancing around her at the litter, Dorcas’s gaze settled on the shards of recently broken glass. She picked up the largest piece of glass by the smooth section of the bottles neck, the sharp jagged piece directed at Quinn. “Maybe this lesson will be easier to comprehend.” Bending toward him, Dorcas speared the sharp edge into Quinn’s genitals. Quinn’s pain filled shriek pierce the alley. Tossing the weapon aside, Dorcas wriggled her fingers at him. “Ta-ta now.” Skipping away in the direction of Claire and the others, Dorcas whistled.
IAN TIGHTENED THE arm draped over Junior’s shoulder, assuring he stayed put. “I’m sure the public defender will do what he can for you, Junior,” Ian said loudly. He noticed Fred and two of Jimmy’s henchmen exited from the door leading to the cells. “I’m sure glad you gave all the assistance you did.”
Junior shot a harassed glance at the two well-dressed men with Fred. “You know damned well I didn’t tell you nothin’ at all, Mick.”
With a quizzical glance toward Fred, which included an exaggerated eye roll, Ian said, “Oh, yeah, sure, sure kid. You didn’t say anything.” The three made their way toward Ian’s position by the front door. Ian and Fred stayed inside the police station. Jimmy’s men left the building immediately. Giving a none-too-gentle push of his hand to Junior’s shoulder blades, Ian said, “You’re fee, kid. Scram.”
A frightened glance skipped from Ian toward the departing men, then back. Junior’s voice shook when he said, “I can’t go out there now, they’ll kill me.”
“Too bad,” Fred said. “You’ve been released. Leave on your own, or I’ll physically toss you from the station.”
“Can’t I wait until my mom gets here?” Junior asked, his voice whiny.
Fred crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, outside.”
“The only way to stay in here is if you’re talking to the DA,” Ian said.
“I ain’t doing that,” Junior insisted. “I got the right to remain silent. I’m staying silent.”
“Time’s up,” Ian said, advancing on him. “Stay silent outside.”
Junior backed away, hands in the air, the tremor obvious. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” With the gait of an elderly man, Junior made his way out t
he station doors.
Fred and Ian followed him, stopping in front of the door. Jimmy’s men were near the curb, waving Junior over to them. He hesitated, but complied. Junior reached them just as a black car pulled up beside them. He was forced into the back seat, the two men trailing in his wake.
“Someone has explaining to do,” Fred said. “Wouldn’t want to be in his shoes right now.”
Ian nodded. “Yeah. I should feel bad for him, being young and all, but can’t work up enough emotion to fill one of Claire’s thimbles.” He knew going against the mobsters was fraught with danger on a good day. Ian tried to warn Junior, on too many occasions to count, about what he was getting himself into with Bennett. Worst part for Junior, not only ignoring the advice, he’d picked one of the meanest men to work for on the wrong side of law, someone who made Eldon look like a choirboy.
Fred placed a hand on Ian’s shoulder. “You did all you could. Junior made his choices, starting with ignoring sound advice.” Fred’s lips turned up in a goofy grin. “Speaking of Claire—”
“We weren’t,” he said. Even vague hints of his sister’s name were all it took to refocus Fred’s attention. “But, go ahead. What about her?”
“Well, I’d like to court Claire officially, with your blessing.” Fred turned serious eyes on Ian. “I know she deserves someone better, but I really care for her. I’ll do right by her, Ian.”
“I know you will, Fred.” Ian opened the door and stepped back into the station. “Because we both understand I’d make your life a living hell if you didn’t.” He barked a laugh. “And I’ll go easier than my mother will.” Ian heard an audible gulp from Fred and smiled.
“BACK IT UP, back it up. Good.” The night shift supervisor, Derek, gave a thumbs up. The truck stopped, the driver jumping down with clipboard in hand. He leapt onto the train station dock, pulled open the doors of the truck, and held out the clipboard to Derek, who scanned through the invoice and other documents. Derek called three of his workers forwards. “Put this in the storage room. I need to go over these papers. If everything’s okay, you can put it on the train.”
The employees went about their task. Derek sent the delivery driver off, and waved to the occupants of the car across the street. As the men exited the vehicle, Derek went inside to wait for Donato Giuffrida.
Donato Giuffrida walked with purpose toward Derek, his men following like silent sentinels. Derek gave a slight sigh of relief he wasn’t on opposing sides with this man. When Donato and his entourage met him at the door of the storage room, Derek opened it and stepped aside so the group could enter. He followed them inside and closed the door behind him.
“You have everything we asked for?” Donato asked.
“Yes, sir.” Derek knew better than to ask questions about the strangeness of the items requested, even if curious. “Everything’s on the table behind the crate.”
“Good. Let’s begin.” Donato gave a short nod and his men fanned out around the crate. One picked up a crowbar and pried the lid loose. Once done, two of the men lifted and removed it, laying the crate top to the side. Doing so revealed the coffin inside. Despite the oddity, Derek knew not to question. From experience, Derek understood Donato’s methods may be just shy of horrendous, but hadn’t meted out punishment not deserved, though maybe excessive. The lid to the coffin was open now.
Derek stood on tiptoe to peer into the coffin from his position by the door. He’d given instructions earlier not to disturb him and his guests, and knew those orders would be followed implicitly. But, he wouldn’t step closer, Derek was here to facilitate not participate.
Donato peered down at the thin haired, unattractive man whose eyes blazed with both panic and anger. Cloth was tied around his mouth to prevent too much noise. “Well, Jimmy, seems I caught you at a bad time, all tied up. I won’t keep you too long, having a train to catch, and all.”
Jimmy squirmed inside his confines. Derek realized Jimmy was securely bound inside the coffin.
“You made egregious threats against me and mine. I can’t have that, can I?” Donato paused, as if awaiting a response. None was forthcoming. He continued. “Normally, I wouldn’t take such talk, personal as it was, to heart. Then I learned of your heinous acts against women, and of two in particular, one dead and one nearly so. Now, your stupid posturing has taken on new meaning.” Another nod. This time, the man at the table stepped forward with a cloth bag and stopped beside Donato. “Augustus doesn’t take kindly either. Do you, Gus?”
Gus sneered. “No sir, I don’t.”
Donato shrugged. “So, we decided to take some preemptive measures. We’re going to accomplish what Miss Graham was unable to finish.” At the mention of the name, Jimmy’s eyes widened, and then gleamed wickedly. With a look and a toss of his head, one of the men removed the binding at Jimmy’s mouth.
“You stupid sonofabitch, when I get out of here—”
“So certain are you, Jimmy?”
Jimmy stopped squirming and furrowed his brow. “I heard them talking. I’m to be delivered to Dwyer.” Donato nodded confirmation. “You have other plans? You gonna to shoot me?”
“No, no, Jimmy, nothing so final.” Donato reached forward and lightly slapped Jimmy on the cheek. “You see, it’s like this. You made a deal with Dwyer giving you carte blanche over Graham’s enterprises. In return, Dwyer makes sure I wasn’t a threat. He lets you… How did you say it? Fuck those bitches senseless before tossing them to the sharks. That’s it.” Donato shook his head sadly. “Gus was not amused. He’s to marry my niece, Amara, and doesn’t take kindly to your plans. We know what you’re capable of and need to rectify the matter.”
“So, what?” Jimmy snarled. “You rough me up, stuff me back in the crate?” He snorted. “I’ll come back and make good on my threat. So, go ahead. Shoot me.”
“Now, now, don’t be so impatient for your punishment.” Donato straightened his jacket, adjusted his tie, and inspected the nails on his right hand. “So, you’ve no intention of learning the error of your ways?”
“Fuck you.” Jimmy chortled. “Correction. I’m coming back and fucking every bitch in your household. I’ll let you watch when I bang your wife, Donny boy. Bet she pleads me to give it to her good.” Derek noted the twitching in Donato’s jaw as he clenched his teeth. Jimmy flashed a glare at Gus. “You can watch, too, when I do your girl. Hope she’s a looker, they scream the best when they get taken by real men.”
“You do realize what position you’re in?” Gus asked. “Isn’t it rather reckless to piss off your captors?”
“If you aren’t going to shoot me, I can survive any beating. Kinda resilient that way. Besides, Dwyer won’t let you get away with this.”
“Well Jimmy, we are about to find out.” Donato took a step away from the coffin.
Gus raised the cloth sack he held.
Was the sack moving? Derek shuddered.
Gus loosened the rope attached to the opening, but didn’t remove it. One of Donato’s men brought over a metal canister, twisted a valve at the top until a low hiss emitted. He tossed it in toward Jimmy’s legs.
“You and your travel companions will take a little nap. When you all wake up, you can get better acquainted.”
“What the—” Jimmy eyed the sack suspiciously.
“Since you conducted yourself like a big, fat rat,” Donato said. “You should spend some quality time with your kin. Goodbye Jimmy.” Donato raised a hand, twirling a finger in a circular motion, and joined Derek at the door. “We’re almost done, Derek.”
As they watched, Gus stuffed the sack into the bottom of the coffin, shoved the binding into Jimmy’s mouth. The men closed the coffin, the crate’s lid replaced and hammered to tighten the seal.
“Thank you Derek.”
“Don’t thank me. We’re family. What he threatened included my wife and little daughter, Elsie.”
Donato nodded. “Trust me when I say it wouldn’t have been something we would have been able to live through, much
less our women. This is for the best.”
“I trust you.” Derek glanced toward the crate.
“Jimmy makes his train. The canister will knock everything out for a while. When it’s waky-waky time, the bag of rodents will work themselves free from the loose binding, and a ready-made snack. If Jimmy survives his trip to New York, it may be a while before he can exact his revenge.”
Derek nodded and reached out a hand, and Donato returned the grasp. “Pleasure doing business with you, sir, I’ll just get on back to work.” He stared after Donato and men until they left the train station dock. Derek called for his employees, ordering them to load the crate to the cargo boxcar. It was just another workday, after all.
Chapter Thirty-four
“CAN I GET you anything from the dining car, honey?” Margaret asked. Fiona noticed Margaret had given up all attempts to touch her, her usual reaction when speaking to her. From the clenched fingers, Fiona realized the task was not an easy one for Margaret. Fiona wanted to reach out to her, but—
“No, I’m fine,” Fiona said. On the bench seat across from her, Fiona watched Sunny cross her arms over her chest, her anger radiating in unseen waves. “Sunny? Is there something wrong?” she asked. Fiona wasn’t certain why, but realized that in the last day or so of this train ride to Colorado, the tension and silence grew into a tangible thing. Tension so heavy this private room of the boxcar would implode on itself. Fiona, suddenly in a rare mood of humor recently, wondered what that would look like to the outside world. Would there be a large black emptiness in the boxcar? Or, would the boxcar resize itself like in a cartoon strip in the newspapers?
“Fiona?” Margaret whispered her name cautiously.
“Hmm?”
“Are you all right?” Margaret asked.
Dammit. When will this constant hovering and asinine inquiry end? “Yes, why?”
Speakeasy, Speak Love Page 24
