by S. W. Frank
Nico unlocked the door and backed out. “Let’s go guys.”
The woman tried to follow. Arturo seized her arm. “Not you. We’re not finished here.”
Nico led the way out the back. He stopped the guys as he peered around the side of the building. Sure enough, the driver had been summoned and headed in the club. “Okay, let’s go.”
“What about my car?”
“Fuck your car. You’re a marked man you goddamn idiot.”
Tony hurried to his vehicle parked right in front to grab the insurance, registration and other items from the glove compartment and caught up with the pair a few minutes later as they walked briskly toward the end of the block. “What now?” he asked Nico.
“Tonight and tomorrow you guys have to lay low. Arturo doesn’t forget faces or names. You two pricks are unfinished business.”
“But he said he just didn’t want to see our faces. As long as we aren’t in his ‘hood we’re cool,” Sergio interjected.
Nico ceased walking. Sergio was dense. “Kid, when a Mafioso says that he’s giving you a heads up to go dig a hole to hide under. You’re not a priority at the moment but when he’s finished with important business, he’s stuffing your ass underground in a box, capisce?”
“But-”
“But nothing. Keep walking and shut up.” Nico unlocked the car before hurrying into the street. “Get in,” he ordered before ducking inside.
The car was in motion, making a U-turn before Tony asked, “Can I make a stop? There’s a lady I need to see.”
“Does anybody at the club know this lady or where she lives?”
“Yeah.”
“Give her a call; ask her to meet you somewhere away from her house. Somewhere safe, outside a precinct’s good.”
“A precinct, seriously?”
“Would you prefer she meets you in the morgue?”
Tony phoned Tiffany and did as Nico instructed. “By the way,” he said as Nico drove down the dark streets. “You left something behind the other day. Since I know your name, I guess I don’t need this anymore.”
Nico’s eyes glanced at the half smoked cigar. The brand was unmistakable. The error highlighted in his mind; he’d slipped.
Tony wasn’t a dummy; in fact he was damn smart. Alfonzo was expected to arrive in New York on Monday and he’d speak to him about the guy. Until then, he’d take the guys to one of the safe houses after they picked up Tony’s woman. This meant another day and a half delay, all thanks to Sergio. Anyway, no more smoking in the field. That’s over, he swore silently. “Thanks for sweeping the street.”
“Thanks for saving my ass back there,” Tony responded.
Nico nodded. “You’re welcome Sergio!”
“Yeah –yeah thanks Uncle.”
Tony smirked. ‘Now isn’t this a bitch, Sergio’s Uncle’s a goddamn hit-man?’
Sergio leaned forward and tapped Tony on the shoulder. “How you let Chip say we're niggers and not pop the fool, huh?”
Tony scoffed. “I don’t have enough ammunition for every asshole using the racial slur and that includes the rappers your generation’s bobbing heads to and calling it music. Besides, my name’s Tony, I don’t answer to anything else.”
Sergio sat back. Nico didn’t say anything, he only listened. As he drove he looked at his nephew in the rearview mirror. The guy had a lopsided grin on his face, similar to Vincent’s. Yeah, his brother poked fun at people a lot, too. Nico smirked. Sergio had inherited something from Vincent after all.
Nico drove in silence. Luckily, Tony’s girl was from Morningside Heights, which worked out fine because the safe house he was taking them to was on the west side. Tony got a call from his lady as they sped across Madison Avenue. Nico heard something about, she felt safer in a moving crowd, and was going to wait near Columbia University where there were lights and college students mingling around. The area was also heavily patrolled by cops.
A few minutes later they rolled up to the main entrance. Nico spotted a woman near a gate carrying an oversize duffle bag. Cute, rather petite for Nico’s taste but a good-looking woman. “Is that her?” Nico asked pulling to the curb.
“Yeah, that’s my Tiffany.”
Nico honked and she jogged to the car. Tony got out and switched places with Sergio and they were in motion again.
“So, what’s going on Tony?” she asked immediately, eyeing the back of Nico and Sergio’s heads.
“Chip’s dead and I don’t want anyone pinning the shit on me, you understand.”
She spoke to Tony but her gaze was on the strange men, “Who are these guys?”
“Honey, I’ll fill you in later.”
This received an eye-roll but she said nothing more. On Eighth Avenue and One Hundred and Thirty-Fifth Street, Nico entered the parking area of a newly constructed co-op and got out without a word, grabbed his backpack from the trunk and headed to the doors of the residential complex. Long strides put distance from the others and they scurried to keep pace, just like he thought they would.
This particular building was one of many in the city owned by Alfonzo. Nico had master keys to several in the event he needed a place to bunk for a few days. He unlocked the lobby doors and strolled to the elevator.
Sergio checked out the posh main floor with the unmanned security desk and whistled. “Now this here is the shit. I can see myself living in a building like this.”
The elevator chimed open and Nico stepped inside not bothering to hold the button. Instead he pressed nine and stepped back to lean against the aluminum wall to watch the three guests. The woman Tiffany held her man’s arm as if Nico was some type of psychotic killer and glanced in his direction every so often until Nico said, “Don’t worry I’m not an ax murderer.”
She didn’t laugh, but Sergio did. “Nah, he’s not an ax murderer but he does murder.” His mouth clamped closed when Nico’s brows pulled together and the glint of the dark eyes warned impending harm if he didn’t shut the fuck up.
They reached the floor and Nico walked out first, unlocked one of the apartments and pointed inside. “Tony, Tiffany, you’re in here. No phone calls about your location. No mention of Chip, Sergio or me. No going out for anything. Leave and it’s your funeral. Once Monday comes and everything’s squared away, you can mosey along and do whatever the fuck you were doing before we bumped into each other. Food’s in the fridge.”
Tony nodded. Nico wasn’t the friendly type was he? “Thanks.”
“Welcome. Sergio you’re with me,” Nico replied and sauntered down the corridor. The last thing Nico wanted to hear in the middle of the night was lovemaking sounds. Frankly, he didn’t want to babysit anybody or listen to anyone getting laid. He missed fucking Ari and sleeping beside her in bed.
The apartment he chose had two bedrooms, completely furnished, cozy and with an unobstructed view of the front streets. Sergio was doing his play by play commentary as Nico switched on lights and checked every closet and closed door. “Ah man, check these floors. Holy shit…what…look at those counters…”
“Will you shut up!” Nico voiced when he was done and then sat his backpack on the counter to look in the fridge.
Nothing, well damn!
The apartment he’d given Tony and Tiffany is where he’d planned to hole up for the night, thus the supplies he bought a few days ago, but now he didn’t have a damn thing to eat. He grumbled.
“Why are you so uptight Uncle Nico?”
Nico slammed the fridge. “Because young buck I hate babysitting grown men, especially one who doesn’t have an ounce of common sense and can’t keep his mouth closed.”
“And who’s that?” Sergio teased.
Nico saw the bruises to Sergio’s eyes were healing well. Too bad Giuseppe’s beat down hadn’t reset the kid’s brain. Nico went to the long sofa to sit and remove his shoes. He stared at Sergio’s nosy ass peering into the rooms. “I might need a muzzle splint for you. I think your mouth’s broken and it’s why the damn thing
never closes.”
“And you’re a cold motherfucker Uncle Nico, so ha-ha we’re even!”
“Why do you want to be part of a family you know nothing about Sergio?” Nico suddenly asked.
“Because we’re family and I want to get to know ya’ll. You know what I’m saying?”
“Sometimes it’s better not knowing, this way you never get disappointed.”
“Well that’s true, because you motherfuckers are really cookoo like Cocoa Puffs.”
“Yet, you want a job with Alfonzo. You’re not stupid Sergio; you must’ve heard the rumors.”
Sergio shrugged. “I don’t give a shit about that. As long as I get paid, shit I’ll blast a fool if the pay’s right.”
"Step away from this sordid life while you can and go back to being a regular guy. I took care of the debt you owed your sister. She’s got the cash back with an apology from her brother. Clean your life up and go straight, you’re not cut out for this family Sergio. You talk a good game but I see right through you. You said I'm cold and you're partially right. Any goodness inside putrefies when you kill. I'm a living corpse, a contradiction, a damn killer who loves but has no life. Do you want to turn out like me?”
Sergio had moved to the counter and leaned beside Nico’s backpack. “I’m just looking for a come up. I’ve been down so damn long…I’d take what you have, it beats hustling day after day and not having shit to show for it.”
“You have a nice car. Isn’t that what you want, nice things to show the women?”
“Hey, a brother gotta’ do what a brother gotta’ do. Nice things get me in.”
Nico laughed. “I guess your charms aren’t working or the women are highly superficial if material things are all it takes for a screw. Hey –and don’t try to swipe any of the stuff from that backpack or I’ll break every one of your fingers.”
Sergio showed his empty hands. “I wouldn’t steal from you Uncle Nico.” He laughed. “Yo, I get in the pussy and it doesn’t matter how I get in as long as my dick gets to swim.”
“Be careful young buck, you might find yourself in diseased infected waters.”
“I got it covered Uncle. It’s called protection.”
Nico scoffed. “You put it over your mouth, too when you’re eating or over your skin?”
Sergio’s grin faded. “See now why you have to go there with that shit?”
Nico smirked. “I’m just saying, you can catch diseases other ways. Swopping spit with someone who has HSV-1 and HSV-2. Blisters aren’t always visible; sometimes carriers may not have any symptoms. Kissing, skin to skin contact is also how it’s transmitted. You ever heard of Herpes Simplex, Casanova?”
Sergio’s grossed out expression produced a laugh from his Uncle and his nose flared in disgust. “Come on now, damn. See, I’m not feeling this conversation.”
The fun was over. Nico put his feet up and his hands behind his head and relaxed. “Is money and pussy the only thing on your brain Sergio?”
“For the most part.”
“What about honor, duty, loyalty?”
“I honor cash, dutifully pursue it and loyally spend it.”
“What about family, is there loyalty there?”
Sergio scoffed. “That goes without saying.”
“Spending your mom’s entire life insurance policy and not giving any to your sister was pretty low, don’t you think?”
Sergio swallowed his shame. “I fucked up, you ever fuck up Uncle?”
“Yes I have –royally and I pay for it every day.”
There was a brief silence, but Sergio never stayed quiet for long. The man’s mouth had to run. “You’d said my dad got killed trying to protect you a while back, is that why you’re such a mean bastard?”
Nico’s eyes were hooded. “I’ve always been a mean bastard; since my brother died I heard I’ve become nicer.”
“Who told you that –Lucifer?”
“Now-now Sergio,” Nico cautioned.
“So how’d you fuck up anyway, talk to me?”
“A woman’s often the reason men fuck up. Covetousness is right up there with greed,” Nico said as his eyes began to slowly close and then he added, “Wipe all the crap out your brain about this family. If and when the time is right, we’ll have a sit down and I’ll give you the 4-1-1, then young buck you’ll have a chance to put some money where that big mouth is.” His eyes shut to avoid any further conversation. Aaron had his dad’s mannerisms, except he used those earphones and observed –everything.
The slick ass kid!
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
On the trading floor, people jostled each other, watching monitors and talking excitedly about the morning guest. Alfonzo’s blank expression was really indifference as he peered over the balcony which overlooked the entire floor. Alfonzo’s eyebrow ascended when he spotted a female trader among the sea of men lean over to retrieve a paper. From the height, Alfonzo had a good view of her hefty breasts.
Nice.
Alfonzo considered her tits the intermission and then returned his attention to the zoo where hard-ons came from trading other’s money. Someone passed Alfonzo a large gavel and nodded for him to ring the bell to signify the New York stock Exchange was up and running. He struck the bell and the excited energy, shouts and scurrying here and there began among the anxious zoo animals.
He set about shaking clammy, nervous hands, patted shoulders and got the hell out before the animals devoured him with their greedy eyes. The man leading the zoo animals, Seth Meyer was the most carnivorous of them all. He led Alfonzo through the jungle for breakfast nearby.
Shortly later, Alfonzo sat across from the bald stout guy in a packed upscale restaurant watching him eat while sipping his coffee.
“Thanks for coming down Mr. Diaz. I’m sure that’ll spike an upsurge in your company’s stocks.” His stubby fingers held the fork, pointing to the table as he talked. “Hell, nowadays people turn on the tube and see a handsome guy they’ll buy into whatever he’s selling. You should’ve brought your pretty black wife. A white-Spanish man and a woman of color,” he guffawed, “oh that would bring in many investors looking to support successful minority owned businesses.”
“My Queen is not a topic of discussion and I damn sure don’t pimp her to further my business.”
“Well, you should consider it.”
Alfonzo’s eyes grew mean. “I haven’t seen your wife on any billboards Seth with her pasty legs and tits on display.”
“Hell, she’s too ugly. She’s a good mother though, but hasn’t aged well, you know what I mean?”
Alfonzo thought of Sergio. Last time they spoke, the slick talker used the phrase, ‘you know what I’m saying?’ This educated multi-millionaire had a more polished approach but he and Sergio wasn’t much different. At least with Sergio, hunger was the motivation; Seth Meyer’s motivation was greed.
“Every woman’s beautiful and it’s an ugly sonovabitch who’d disparage his wife and try to do the same to another’s.”
The man’s fork trembled and he back pedaled when he noticed Alfonzo’s face tightening and the jaw clench. The man had a quick temper and he tried not to ruffle his feathers. “Yes, you’re right. Terrible joke.”
“Terribly asinine and offensive to me and my lovely wife, don’t you agree?”
“I agree, sorry if I offended you Mr. Diaz and your wife, it was very insensitive,” Seth Meyer responded with a more sincere apology. “The joke was in bad taste.” No small talk or ice-breakers is what Mr. Diaz let him know in no uncertain terms and definitely do not make references to his precious wife. His voice went up an octave. “I believe your company’s stocks will rebound by the closing bell. I understand an Italian businessman has purchased hefty shares
in your enterprise just this morning.”
Alfonzo’s antennae rose. “Who?”
“DeMarco and Sons. Have you heard of them?”
“Of course.”
“Well, when investors learn DeMarco’s buying shares, they’ll follow suit. They’ll see it as a show of confidence and take more risks.”
“Humph.” Alfonzo quietly digested the information. Bruno buying stock in any of his holdings made him uneasy. It was time to speak to Bruno, crack his skull if necessary to find out what the hell the man was up to. Alfonzo’s mood switched from patronizing to downright annoyed when Seth continued talking.
“How do you explain competitors with equally competent companies like Nysac and Tennen having a huge disparity in stock valuation, Mr. Diaz?” The asshole asked.
Alfonzo’s eyebrow lifted. When had the conversation shifted? Perhaps, when his mind wandered to Bruno. Despite the transient lapse, he was able to follow along. This was about image and consumer confidence. Did they correlate? To some degree, but he wanted the talkative fool’s opinion, since the arrogant sonovabitch had an answer for everything. “Tell me.”
“The face of Tennen is a handsome young entrepreneur and Nysac’s CEO is a saggy jowl old man.”
“Humph.”
“And Tennen has the flashy commercials, hook’s you with the smile of sincerity in his product and bam, stocks shoot to the roof.”
Alfonzo found the conversation boring. Their opinions differed; an arrogant white man who believes he can answer every riddle has little in common with a street seasoned professor of people. Their philosophical commonality is ‘money makes the world go round. “Tennen’s stock values have increased because he’s outsourced jobs which shrunk his overhead and manufacturing costs. He can sell more for less giving him an upper hand on his competitor whose commitment to the American economy has given him nothing but a huge deficit –because loving your country nowadays and doing right by the American worker means fucking yourself in the ass, puta!”
The clinking of glasses and forks stopped. The self-important people eating in their sheltered luxury probably never knew what it was like to be hungry or have to rely on a paycheck which is far too small to cover enormous living expenses. Many were so out of touch with the struggling working class it angered Alfonzo. They sat there, stuffing fat guts pushed against white linen cloths, with shiny silver forks, unlike the smudged utensils haphazardly tossed in dishwashers at low-end eateries and recycled to hardworking customers in the ‘hood. They were oblivious to how their greed killed the American economy.
