The Father's Son

by Jim Sano

  “Anytime, David. Don’t hesitate to ask. If you need me for anything at all, I’m here.”

  On the way home, David’s mind continued to churn. He felt different about sharing his feelings after Tom had been willing to open up about his own sensitive history. The fact that Tom would trust David with the ugliest parts of his life had made an impact on David. He wasn’t ready to go there fully with Tom, but at least he knew he had someone he could trust if that time came.

  As he got closer to his Beacon Street apartment steps, he thought there was no way he could see his father without a ton of anger pouring out. Do I want to see him? What would I even say to him? Hey, Pop, how’ve you been? Why did you kill my brother and destroy our family? Why was your life a lie and how could you abandon me?

  Trooper greeted him at the door. David squatted down and ran his hands through his fur. “I can always trust you, boy, can’t I?” He glanced around. “Anybody break into the apartment today? After all, it is Tuesday.” He walked through the rooms looking for another note, then soothed himself in a very long, hot shower.

  Clean and more relaxed, David sat in his leather chair with Jimmy’s diary. When he flipped to the empty pages, he thought these blank pages represented all he really knew about what happened. The man, who always talked about putting God, marriage, his family first, and the importance of honesty and integrity, was a big lie all along. Even if he went into this for a good reason, how could he involve Jimmy? How could he kill his own son and a police trooper? How could he remain silent all these years? David wiped away a tear as he thought about never seeing Jimmy again. He realized all these questions and feelings weren’t going to go away.

  As he dozed off, he found himself drifting back into a dream of himself as a young boy running frantically through the dark woods trying to get away from a rabid wolf. He was running barefoot on the unsure ground, dodging trees that came up faster and faster before the ground beneath him opened up and he landed in a deep, dark sinkhole that seemed too deep to escape. As he began to see what was in the hole with him, he panicked and woke up in a cold, uncomfortable sweat.

  David went to work in the morning, shutting off his emotions and attacking work with a fervor to fully occupy his mind. Just after lunch, Kevin Walsh dropped by to see him.

  Walsh was out of breath and was white as a ghost as he came into David’s office.

  “Walshy, are you okay?” David asked. “You look as white as a ghost.”

  “I spent the evening at Dana-Farber with my dad. He’s not doin’ well.”

  “Then what are you doing here? What can we do to help?”

  “I’m going back this afternoon. I just wanted you to know that I may be in and out for a while.” Walsh choked up. “I think we are losin’ him and nothin’ I have in my bank account can do anythin’ to save him. I can’t do anythin’. I’m kicking myself for not findin’ the time to see him more, to spend time with him. I convinced myself that I was too busy, knowin’ all along that it would mean the world to him to see me more often. I just want to sit with him even if he doesn’t know I’m there.”

  David patted Walsh on the shoulder. “Kev, take all the time you need. Just let me know what we need to cover, and you focus on your dad.”

  Walsh started slowly towards the door. “Thanks, DJ. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your understanding.”

  “Just take care of him and yourself. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do.”

  David delved back into his work, glancing at the clock once in a while, but not caring that quitting time had come and gone. He didn’t want to go home.

  Izzie finally poked her head in. “Is everything okay, Mr. Kelly?”

  David looked up and nodded.

  Izzie said, “You take care tonight. See you in the morning.”

  Her interruption busted his shield. He decided to leave as well.

  Despite having his suit on and knowing the boys’ practice was ending, David made his way to the church to let Tom know he was okay.

  One of the boys was heading out of the school doors. “We missed you today, Coach. I think Father Tom missed you too.”

  “Thanks, Hank. How’s that jump shot coming?”

  The boy grinned. “Oh, it’s coming along. I’ve been practicing using my legs to shoot. It sounded weird when you said it at first, but it makes sense when you do it. You know what I mean, Coach?”

  David touched the top of Hank’s head. “Keep it up. It gets more natural, with practice, to build muscle memory.”

  “Will do. I trust you, Coach.”

  Tom walked out of the door before David turned around. “Hey, stranger. We missed you. Are you up for a Dempsey stop?” David nodded, and they made the short walk to the pub.

  Before they could even sit down, Dempsey was at the table with two cold pints and a smile. Tom raised his glass. “How are you doing?”

  David tapped his glass against Tom’s and took a sip. “It was a rough night, but this helps.”

  “I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds, but I thought that maybe we both have some opportunities for forgiveness in our lives.”

  David’s tone was more resolved as he put his glass down. “I don’t think I can forgive a man who has offered no repentance and was a fraud who destroyed his entire family. I don’t see how that would help me or him. Even if he were sorry, I could never forgive what he did. It was too big of a line to cross. I’m feeling a bit better now that I’ve decided to just leave things as they are.”

  Tom sat holding his beer. David could tell he was studying him, seeing someone who was retreating for reasons he knew now Tom could identify with.

  After several moments of silence, he said, “David, I have information that will come as a shock, but it might shed some light on your mystery.”

  “What information? What are you talking about?”

  “After morning Mass, I was looking for Angelo, to see how the building repairs were going. The shed door to his room was slightly opened, and when I knocked and didn’t get a response, I opened the door to see if he was okay. On the wall, I noticed a picture pinned to his wall. It was of the same white building you received on the postcard with two of your messages. I’ve been curious about Angelo for some time. He showed up out of nowhere, asks for nothing other than work and a room no bigger and no more comfortable than a jail cell.” David’s head moved forward, and his eyes squinted in response to that last sentence. “I saw a few other things jotted down on papers on his bed and his desk that started to put some pieces of the puzzle in place.”

  “What puzzle?”

  “I know Angelo is a good man and a godsend for me, but I also knew I shouldn’t be going through his things like that. I should be showing more trust and respect for him, especially for all he’s done. Anyway, I asked Angelo to drop by the pub tonight, if you’re okay with that.”

  David frowned, but nodded his consent.

  Just then, Tom saw Angelo outside the pub window and waved him in. Angelo came in and sat down next to Tom and nodded to David.

  Tom said, “Angelo, thanks for joining us. I think you know David Kelly. We have a mystery we were hoping you could help us solve. David has had a number of break-ins to his apartment despite changed locks and a tight security system. Someone has been able to slip in and out each week, but they take nothing from him. In fact, they leave something each time. We’ve been racking our brains trying to figure out how this is possible. What do you think?”

  As both David and Tom anxiously waited for an answer, Angelo put his forearms on the table and pulled forward. “I would say you might have some clever mice to take care of.”

  David exclaimed, “I don’t think mice write messages, carry large stones, or carefully place pictures on a freezer door.”

  Angelo sat back. “I hear they’ve been doing amazing things over at that MIT these days.”

  David hadn’t noticed a lot about Angelo when he met him in passing at St. Anthony’s, but sitting this clo
se, he saw the look of a hard life on his rough face and stubby, coarse hands. When he looked straight at Angelo, he didn’t see that roughness in his eyes, but the look of someone who’d known him for his entire life. With his heart starting to beat rapidly in his chest, David asked, “Angelo, I appreciate your coming over and trust you are an honest man. Have you ever been in my apartment?”

  Angelo glanced down at the table and then back up at David. “Possibly.”

  David half smiled. “Possibly? Could you have possibly been in my apartment on several occasions, leaving things behind?”

  Angelo said, “That would also be possible.”

  Tom nudged Angelo with his shoulder. “Angelo, if we buy you a beer, can you let us know the whole story? It would mean a lot to me, and I think it would be helpful to David.”

  Angelo leaned back in his seat and was apparently contemplating what to do next as Tom waved to Dempsey for three beers. Angelo thanked Dempsey and took a long sip of his cold brew. “Okay. I may have stopped by your place a few times, and I may have left a few things, as well, but I never disturbed anything and didn’t take anything.”

  David leaned in on his side of the table. “But why and how did you do it?”

  Angelo answered, “The ‘how’ was easy. Your locks, alarms, and that great guard dog of yours weren’t really much of a challenge. I spent most of my younger life perfecting my ability to get in and out of places that had things I wanted to borrow long term. Breaking into homes in rich neighborhoods became easy, and little by little you learn the trade. Safes, banks, and high-end security systems became a game I could play with anyone. About thirty years ago, I was involved in a large-scale museum heist in DC that didn’t go as planned, and I landed in the Virginia State Pen for a forty spot. After the mandatory solitary confinement, I ended up in a two-by-four of a cell with this guy from Boston, funny accent and all. I wasn’t particularly interested in girl talk, and he seemed a bit shell-shocked to even know we were sharing a broken-down toilet, cold cinder block walls and the hard metal beds with smelly old paper-thin mattresses. I was angry at the only person I ever cared about in my life—me. When I realized that this guy was on death row, I saw no benefit for me to get to know him, which is hard to accomplish when you spend that much time in that small of a confine. I quickly realized he was at peace regardless of his fate, even the electric chair. That man is responsible for saving my life and my soul, and I would do anything for him. That man is your father.”

  David felt dazed as he was trying to process Angelo’s story. Here he was sitting across from someone who probably knew his father better than he did.

  Angelo now stared at David. “There’s no man I’ve ever met with more integrity, more heart, and more character than Gianni Fidele. David, I know about every minute of your childhood, about your mom, Jimmy, Bobby, and Abbie. Your dad loved each of you so much, and it crushed him to be separated from all of you because he knew how much you needed a dad. Listen, I was a hard-nosed thief with no sense of love or purpose in my life. In spite of my resistance, he patiently taught me the purpose of a well-lived life. From your father, I learned that self-worth comes from God alone. That a real man lives through Christ’s example. He wanted so badly to pass all these things on to you, so you could have a life of joy and love, but he had to make do with someone like me.”

  David noticed that Angelo’s eyes had filled with tears as he took another drink of his beer. “I wish I could share your admiration and love, but did he ever tell you what he did to his family?”

  Angelo reached out and put his hand on David’s forearm and pulled him forward. “David, whatever you think you know about your dad is not the truth. Everyone in the pen claims he was innocent, but your father never did. Even up until that morning of June 29th, 1972, he didn’t whine about his innocence, but the truth is that he was innocent. He blamed himself for not saving Jimmy, but don’t ever think he was responsible. Your dad didn’t like talking about it, but over time I got the story out of him. Everything he told me was confirmed by one of the guys on the heist called Johnny Maccillo, who spent a dime in the pen. Your father was concerned about Jimmy’s lack of direction and mistrusted the people he was hanging around with, especially a guy named Mo Diavolo.”

  “My mother said she saw Pop looking pretty friendly with Mo several times before the robbery, looking like they were making some agreement.”

  “Your dad never trusted Mo. He tried to get Mo to stop spending time with Jimmy, to stop giving him tickets and letting him in his bar. Mo had supposedly agreed, and that may be what your mother saw. Your dad told me he followed Jimmy when he left the house at night to see where he was going and if he was okay.”

  David shook his head. “Angelo, I want to believe you, but why was he at the robbery with his gun that killed Jimmy and a cop? His fingerprints were all over that gun.”

  “Well, your dad continued to follow Jimmy because of the type of places he was hanging out and who he was with. Jimmy had left some notes around about dates and lists of things to take care of that made your dad even more nervous. Putting the pieces together, he figured out that Mo had worked on Jimmy and his friend Tommy Collins for quite some time to convince them they could have a nice payday with little risk to them. According to Mac, when Jimmy pushed back on Mo, Mo told him they didn’t have to do anything illegal, that the insurance companies would cover any bank losses, and that he’d be able to help the family out with Abbie’s operation.”

  “Once Jimmy and Tommy were in, they were let in on more of the details of the plan. The target was the Bank of Boston branch closest to the North End, and the pickup would be Tuesday after the large Columbus Day weekend receipts. They estimated about two million to be split between the local family, Mo, and his team. The only thing that Jimmy and Tommy needed to do was provide uniforms to Mo, Mac, and Gino Cappelletti, borrow your dad’s .38 Colt from the hiding spot above your father’s bedroom closet, and to sit in the Dunbar armored truck while the others took care of the rest and loaded the van parked in front of the armored truck. Your brother, Jimmy, was never supposed to be in the bank.”

  Angelo stopped to drink his beer. “Jimmy was too young to ride as the ‘hopper.’ There was another guard who was supposed to ride with Tommy, but he didn’t show, and Jimmy filled in. There were two other guards who rode in the back of the truck who had no knowledge of the plans. On the day of the heist, Mo, Mac, and Gino were already parked in the van, dressed in their security guard uniforms. Tommy later pulled up behind them and directly in front of the bank entrance. Tommy acted as if the electronic auto locks were stuck for a bit and told the two security guards in the cargo-hold to be patient. The normal hopper had provided Mo with the security passcode and the official procedure for accessing the money from the bank manager without suspicion. The entire heist was to only take ten minutes from the time the armored truck pulled in front of the bank.

  “It all went bust when Gianni showed up to confront Mo and try to save his son from committing a felony. Mo never liked Gianni. He was more than happy to corrupt Jimmy to hurt Gianni, and he had no intention of having his master plan undermined by him. When Gianni didn’t see Jimmy in the bank, he started towards the door just as Mo yelled for everyone to hit the floor and keep their faces down. Mo waved your dad’s gun at him and yelled to your dad to get down. When he didn’t, Mo pointed the gun at your father just as Jimmy rushed into the bank and jumped in front of your father as Mo fired the gun. Jimmy fell bleeding into your dad’s arms telling him he was sorry. Mo kept yelling at people to keep their heads down and to not look up as he rushed at your father, whacking him across the temple, then ordering Gino and Mac to load your father into the van with the money.”

  Stunned, David released a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as Angelo continued the story. “Even with the shots fired, the Mafia boss, Angiulo, had guaranteed Mo that there’d be no police in the area during the heist, so Mo was able to load the van and make a clean getaway.
They made it as far as the Virginia border, where they got into a gunfight at a barricade and a State Trooper was shot and killed with Gianni’s gun. Mo had cleaned off his fingerprints and put the gun in your dad’s right hand to get his fingerprints on it. He then testified that Gianni had planned the heist and was responsible for the two deaths with his own gun. Mo’s testimony was convincing, and he strong-armed Gino and Mac to corroborate his version. Even with Gianni’s denial, your dad was quickly convicted of two first-degree murders, armed robbery, and endangering the lives of citizens.

  “Sometime after Mo had been knifed and killed in prison, Mac confirmed Gianni’s story to me and filled in a few more holes.”

  David, tears in his eyes, directed his gaze to Angelo. “Is this all true?”

  Angelo nodded. “Every word of it. Your dad is a good man. Always has been. You may have stopped believing in your dad years ago because of how things looked, but all that pain wasn’t based on who your dad was. I don’t know why your mom lost faith in him. Maybe the shock of losing her son was too much, but he never stopped loving her or the three of you the entire time. When I got out this past spring, I told him I would try to find you. It wasn’t easy because he had no clue where you lived or that you changed your name. When I found out you worked at the Prudential, I found St. Anthony’s just a few blocks away and a good friend here in Father Tom. Your dad was overjoyed when I let him know I found you. I told him you were doing well in some ways but seemed lost in others, so I decided to try to use Father Tom to help teach you things that your father had taught me. Your dad was very happy to learn that you two have become friends.”

  Tom said, “Angelo, did you have anything to do with that donation made to the school?”

  Angelo nodded. “That was thirty years’ worth of prison wages from David’s dad. He wanted the school to have it as a thank you for your being a good friend to his son.”