Old Wounds, a Gino Cataldi Mystery

by Giacomo Giammatteo

  I passed a church, St. Edwards, and wondered if it was fate. I checked my mirror, did a quick U-turn, and headed back. As fortune would have it, today was Tuesday and they had confessions starting at six-thirty. I looked at my watch—only half an hour to go. Redemption was right around the corner.

  What the hell. My new life has to start somewhere.

  For twenty minutes I flip-flopped between wanting to run out of there and go home, then back to figuring out how to confess so many years of sin. Right at six-thirty a priest entered one of the confessionals. Nobody was in line, so I mustered the courage and walked through those curtains of death. It felt like I was walking into hell.

  In the few seconds it took for the priest to slide the confessional door open, my palms started sweating, my feet and legs twitched, and my gut ached. I felt like a little kid again, the same one who was afraid to tell the priest about the lies I’d told and the times I disobeyed my parents.

  The sins I had to confess now were a little worse. I prayed that the good father had not made dinner plans. He might be late.

  The priest said something, which I missed. It was my turn now. Despite how long it had been since I’d been in a confessional, the proper words came right back to me. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been…twenty-seven years since my last confession.”

  “You must have something big to tell, my son.”

  I almost laughed. At least the guy had a sense of humor, though I was about to put that to the test. “It’s big, Father. I’m not going to bother with the little stuff; the only one that’s really important is that I killed someone. Actually three people.”

  After I said it, I sighed so loud that I know he heard.

  A silent period followed before he spoke. “When you did this were you defending yourself, or your family, or—”

  “No, Father. This was cold-blooded murder.”

  There was a long hesitation, longer than before. “Why did you do this?”

  “I’m a cop. And these were drug dealers. They killed my partner and God knows how many other people. I’m not making excuses. I know it was wrong, it’s just…I don’t know.”

  “Why are you here?”

  It was my turn to be silent, then, “I don’t know.”

  That statement led to a conversation that lasted a half an hour or more. We got into far more than I intended to about my feelings on the church and religion in general but, I have to admit, when I came out of there and knelt in that pew to start my penance I felt a thousand pounds lighter. I felt like a good person. A clean one.

  I thanked God for giving me the strength to come here, then I said a few of the prayers the priest gave me for penance. The rest I’d have to do on the installment plan. This wasn’t a “three Hail Mary’s and two Our Father’s” type penance.

  I was oddly calm on the drive home even though I faced an even tougher decision. The priest told me for complete absolution I’d have to turn myself in. That meant turning in the badge, the gun, and probably my life, just when I was getting it back. Was it worth it? That’s what I had to decide.

  I picked up a burger near the house, then made coffee to help me mull this over. When my eyes closed for sleep I was still undecided.

  I took a shower in the morning, packed my gun and badge, and put them in a box before heading to the station. I planned to see Coop and bring this era of my life to an end. Surprisingly, I felt a serenity that I hadn’t known in…forever.

  As I drove down I-45 the phone rang. It was Tip. I ignored it, but a few minutes later it rang again. I let it ring, and focused on how I would tell Coop. Then I heard sirens blaring behind me. I looked in the rearview mirror and saw it was Tip. I was still laughing when I pulled to the shoulder of the freeway. The phone rang again just as he pulled in behind me.

  “What the hell do you want, Tip?”

  “Let’s get something to eat,” he said.

  Before I could say no, he started in on me.

  “There’s a Cracker Barrel about two exits south of here. Let’s go.”

  We grabbed a table near the back, got coffee, and ordered breakfast from a waitress named Marcy. Tip always looked at their name tags, and he never seemed to forget a name. He was usually chipper in the morning, but seemed more so today.

  “What’re you in such a good mood about?” I asked.

  “We closed our case. It’s a new day. What’s not to like about it? We got a bad person off the street,” Tip said.

  “Not us,” I said. “We didn’t do shit.” I downed my coffee and signaled for more. “All we’ve ended up with were two dead prostitutes, a dead businessman, and his bodyguard.”

  Tip looked out the window for a few seconds, then he turned to me. “I’m not saying Anne didn’t do wrong, but we both know Camwyck and Richards were doing a lot more than spreading their legs. I don’t give two shits about that part, but the blackmail and—”

  “She didn’t have the right to decide,” I said.

  “You blame her? After what they did to so many people?”

  I poured creamer into my coffee and set the cup down hard. Then I picked up the water and took a sip.

  “Well?” Tip asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “What would you do faced with the same situation?”

  The waitress brought our food. “Anything else?”

  “Not now,” Tip said, “But keep checking on him, Marcy. He’s a needy man.”

  She laughed and headed to another table.

  “Well?” Tip asked again.

  “I’d do…something. Find some way to bring them to justice.”

  Tip bit into his bagel. When he finished chewing, he said, “I talked to Chicky.”

  I tried not to show emotions, but I know I gulped, and I’m sure my expression showed my surprise. “What’s Chicky got to do with anything?”

  “He’s got nothing to do with this case, but you know what I’m talking about.”

  I looked to the side, signaled Marcy for more coffee.

  She returned with a smile on her face. “I guess you’re thirsty today. Or do you just need waking up?”

  I smiled back at her. “Waking up is more like it.”

  “Where’s your gun?” Tip asked, after she left.

  “In the car.”

  “What’s it doing in the car?”

  Tip had a way of pressing me that I didn’t like. “I left it in the fuckin’ car. Okay?”

  “Leaving a gun in a car is a dangerous thing to do. But getting back to our discussion, who’s to say what’s wrong?”

  “People can’t play God. Anne was wrong.”

  “I wasn’t talking about her,” Tip said, and gave me one of his hard looks.

  I braced my palms against the table and pushed back a little. It was time to cut through the shit. “Are you talking about Rico?”

  Tip pushed his plate aside and leaned he elbows on the edge of the table. “We both know Rico was guilty. Didn’t need a jury for that.”

  I said nothing, so Tip did. “You know how many people Rico killed?”

  “It doesn’t matter, Tip, and you know it.” I looked out the window so I didn’t have to face him.

  Tip looked up when another waitress walked by. “Hey, darlin’, can you ask Marcy to get me some hot tea please?”

  “I’ll get it,” she said. “Be right back.”

  Tip looked me square in the eyes. “You said it doesn’t matter. What doesn’t matter?”

  “People can’t take the law into their own hands,” I said.

  “Gino, I’m sure there’s an argument in there somewhere, and I know you like to argue, but I’m too damn tired for it. I don’t know what you had planned with your gun in the car, but I’m guessing your badge is there too. So here’s what you’re gonna do.” He leaned partway across the table, got real close, and then he whispered. “You’re gonna get in your car and put your goddamn gun back where it belongs, and then we’re gonna go catch us some bad guys.”


  What Tip said felt good, but I was determined to do what I had to do. “I can’t do it, Tip.”

  “You can do it. And you’re gonna do it, or I’ll kick your ass.”

  The waitress brought Tip his tea and hurried off. I was grateful for the interruption, as it gave me time to think. I wasn’t sure what game Tip was playing, or if he was playing, but I decided to go along with it. “You’re okay with this?”

  “I’m never okay with breaking the law, but Rico’s where he belongs. And I’m gonna need help finding the Ranger—in case you forgot, that’s the son of a bitch who killed my mother.” The left side of his face wrinkled up and he smiled. “And you can bet your last dick I’m gonna’ get him.”

  “My last dick?” I smiled. “If you’re that sure about things, I might have to go along with you.”

  We both laughed, but I stopped before I wanted to. “Tip, I’m going to see Coop. I’m gonna’ tell her what happened.”

  Tip shook his head. “Don’t do it.”

  I stood and tossed a twenty on the table. “I’ve got to. I’ll let you know how it goes—if she doesn’t put me in cuffs.”

  Tip stuffed the money in my shirt pocket and threw two twenties on the table. “Call me,” he said, and we walked out of there.

  It didn’t take me long to get to the station, but I thought about turning around a dozen times, and I sat in the car for ten minutes after parking. Finally, I mustered the balls to do what had to be done, and I got out, walked in, and headed to Coop’s office.

  “Good morning, Cindy.”

  “You here to see the captain?”

  “If she’s in.”

  “I think she’s busy, but—”

  “It’s really important, Cindy. If you can get me a few minutes.”

  She glanced at the box in my hand, and must have noticed the lack of a gun on my hip. She looked at the calendar on her desk and smiled. “Okay. We can do that.” She got on the intercom and announced me, then indicated I should go in.

  Coop was reading the paper when I entered, her glasses perilously close to the end of her nose. “Good morning, Gino. What problem do you bring me?”

  “A big problem, Captain.” I placed the box on her desk, took out the badge and gun and set them in front of her, then I sat down.

  She looked at me with her mean glare. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’d like to spend time with my son. Maybe I can make some things up to him.”

  “That’s a nice plan, and a wonderful idea. Take a week off. Hell, take two weeks off, but then get your ass back here and solve some cases.”

  I shook my head. “I’m done with it, Captain. I’ve made up my mind.”

  “You can’t leave me with that lunatic partner of yours without a leash.”

  I laughed, feeling her pain. “You’ll find somebody else.”

  She was silent for a minute, then pushed the gun and badge aside and tossed the box onto the floor. “Now tell me the real reason for this nonsense.”

  I breathed deeply, chewed on the inside of my lip, squeezed the chair, then found all the courage I could and looked into her eyes, those same eyes that had meted out justice for a lot of years. “Coop, when I’m done talking you’re not gonna like me. I’ve done some terrible things in my life. Things I’m not—”

  She held up her hands. “Hold on, Cataldi. Before you say anything else, does this have anything to do with Rico Moreno?”

  I stared back at her, stunned, and nodded.

  “Then shut-up. Do you hear me, shut the hell up. Now!”

  I sat and said nothing.

  She got up and paced. “We are the fourth biggest city in the country. We need every good cop we can find. I’m not about to let one of my best get away. So, if you think you can still follow orders…never bring up the name of Rico Moreno again.”

  I got that good, clean feeling in me again. “Why are you doing this?”

  She looked at me with the softest eyes I’d ever seen. I didn’t know her eyes could even show that emotion. “Forget the fact that Rico Moreno was a drug-dealing, scum-sucking son of a bitch. Forget the fact that his drugs killed God knows how many people and ruined thousands of lives. And forget that he would have continued for a long time because we couldn’t bring him in.”

  Coop walked over and gave me a hug. “I’m doing this because one time a cop thought I was in trouble and he offered to help.”

  I hugged her back. “Thanks, Gladys.”

  “Now, more orders. Take two weeks off, have a good time with your son, figure out what you need to do to get straight, then, if you still want to be a cop, get your ass back here and help me control Tip Denton. That cowboy gives me ulcers.”

  I couldn’t control the grin. “Yes, ma’am. Is that all?”

  “No. Don’t ever call me Gladys again.”

  I kissed her on the cheek. “You’re the best, Coop. I owe you big time.”

  “Tell Ron I said hi.”

  “I will, and I’ll see you in two weeks.”

  CHAPTER 66

  GRAVES AND REUNIONS

  Never had I felt better in my life, and certainly not since before Mary died. It was a feeling that I wanted to wake up with every day. I vowed to never do anything that would compromise that. I drove slowly on my way to pick up Ron, appreciating life in general and the mild day we were having in particular. He was ready when I pulled up, and I could tell before he even got in the car he was in a great mood.

  “Hey, Dad.” He reached over and gave me a hug, then buckled his seat belt. This was definitely not the kid who went into rehab a few months ago.

  “Where to first?”

  “I thought we’d go to Mom’s grave. I need to show her I’m all right now.”

  That choked me up. “I’m sure she knows.”

  “Me too,” he said. “But I still want to show her.”

  We stopped and got her favorite flowers—white and peach roses—then drove to the cemetery. I set the flowers in front of her headstone. We knelt and said a few prayers.

  Then I spoke to her. “Mary, you know I don’t like to express myself in front of other people, not even family. I never could with anyone but you, and even that was tough. But I’m here to try, like you always asked. Ron’s with me.” I stopped, trying not to cry. “We’ve both been hurting, baby. Real bad. Ron got in trouble for a while.” I reached over and put my arm around his shoulder. “But he came back better than ever. It was you who did it for him. You somehow left enough love in this nasty world to keep him going. Heck, you might have even left enough for us to share and help each other out. I hope you did.”

  Ron knelt and blessed himself. “Hey, Mom. It’s me. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here sober. But you can count on me now. I’m all right and I’m planning on staying that way.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it. “And what Dad said, about you leaving enough love for both of us—you did. And don’t worry, I’ll take care of this old fart.”

  I closed my eyes and said a final prayer, then I felt Ron hug me. I heard, and felt, him crying. “I love you, Dad.”

  “I love you too, Ron. More than you know.”

  We said our goodbyes to Mary, promising to be back at Christmas.

  “Toss the keys, old timer. I’m driving,” Ron said.

  “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to dinner.”

  “I’m game. Let’s go.”

  As we exited the cemetery, I felt peace for the first time in a long, long while.

  Thanks, God.

  <<<<>>>>

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  Fiction
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  Lisa Benz was brilliant, street smart, and full of potential. She could have had any job she wanted, but she decided to join the police force. She didn’t join to carry on a family tradition, or to fulfill a lifelong dream. She didn’t join to impress anyone or make her mark on society.

  She joined for one reason only—a promise she made to a young girl.

  For those of you who read Necessary Decisions, this is a novella about Number Two.

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  My first fantasy, and the first book in a four-book series—the Rules of Vengeance. (Three are already written and the fourth is being outlined.)

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  Non-Fiction

  No Mistakes Grammar, Volume I, Misused Words. (being proofread)

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  No Mistakes Grammar, Volume III, More Misused Words. (being proofread)

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  Children’s Books

  No Mistakes Grammar for Kids, Volume I—Much and Many (Sent to editor)

  No Mistakes Grammar for Kids, Volume II—Lie and Lay (Sent to editor)

  No Mistakes Grammar for Kids, Volume III—Then and Than (Sent to editor)

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  Acknowledgments

  It’s been a long time since I published a book, and even a longer time since I wrote one. Early last year, I had 2 heart attacks and 2 stokes which left me damn near dead. I couldn’t move—literally.