Tommy shook his head. “Anybody but Rizzo.”
“I was thinking the same thing,” Reno said. “Last fucker on earth I would have wanted involved in this. But I’m telling you,” Reno added, “if we snatch him, we can’t give him back. Because if he lives to tell about this little kidnapping, there will be war and a lot of people will die. It’s not debatable. That will happen.”
“What if he can link us to it anyway?” Sal asked. “They tried to take my brother out, why wouldn’t they think we’d try to take Rizz out?”
Reno and Sal both looked at Tommy. “We’re going to have to subterfuge it,” he said. “Misdirection, and then snatch him.”
“You mean set up one of his guys?” Sal asked.
“We’ll have to,” Tommy said. “Get some cash deposited in an account in the guy’s name, if we can swing it.”
“I can swing it,” Sal said.
“As soon as the deposit goes live,” Tommy said, “we get an anonymous caller to notify, not Rizzo, but his most trusted lieutenant.”
“That would be Mike Carrigan,” Sal said.
“That’s the guy,” Tommy said. “Make up a story about how one of Rizzo’s men is working for some foreign guy who wants to take over Chicago from Rizz. Mention how they might be planning Rizz’s execution. And while Carrigan’s looking into it, we’ll already have Rizzo in our custody. They will be looking at an inside job, we will be doing our thing. They’ll blame anything that happens to Rizzo on their own people.” Tommy said this, and then looked at Reno.
Reno began nodding his head. “It could work,” he said. “Yeah, it could work. But how will we snatch that prick? He’s more protected than Fort Knox I’m sure.”
“He is,” Sal said. “But he’s got one weakness.”
“What’s that?”
“Manicure, pedicure, and a massage on Wednesdays.”
“At home?”
“No. At this danky looking parlor. He enters in through a backdoor, and leaves through a backdoor. When he gets there Wednesday, we’ll already be there. And our men will go out back and take out his men and we will snatch him. We’ll also take out any cameras.”
But Reno kept looking at him. “And why would you know all of this about Rizzo Marelli’s routine?”
“I did surveillance on him before.”
“Why?”
“Why the hell not?” Sal asked. “I have a lot of interests in this town, I told you that. I have to know who might be eyeing it.”
Reno shook his head. “Fucking mob boss,” he said, “I don’t care how much you deny it.”
“Who are you?” Sal asked. “You deny it.”
“That’s because I’m not one,” Reno responded.
“Neither am I,” Sal responded.
“But you’re lying motherfucker.”
“Then so are you motherfucker.”
“Guys,” Tommy said and grimaced. “Focus now. Fight later.”
Sal and Reno stopped bickering and entered into an alliance that always made them, even though neither would admit it, thick as thieves.
Three days later, on Wednesday, the preliminary work went off without a hitch. The money was deposited in the bank. The anonymous call was made to Carrigan. And as soon as Rizzo Marelli entered the backdoor of the massage parlor, he was met, not by his regular masseuse, but by two men who placed a duffer bag over his head, tightened it, and then opened the back door just as Rizzo’s men were being shot, one and then the other, as they sat in the van.
A second cargo van drove up to the backdoor, Rizzo was tossed inside, and then the van drove away. When the bag was removed from Rizzo’s head, and he saw Reno and Sal sitting inside the van with him, he frowned. He was a big man, and his face had layers of chin.
“Reno? Sal? What the fuck is going on here?”
“Hello, Rizz,” Reno said. “It’s been a while.”
“What do you think you’re doing, Reno? I got no beef with you! What do you think you’re doing?”
“We’re kidnapping you,” Sal said.
Rizzo frowned. “For what?”
“You know already,” Reno said. “Don’t piss with us.”
“What I wanna piss with your ass for? What did I do?”
“You ordered a hit on my brother, that’s what you did,” Sal said.
“On Tommy? Why would I do that? Why would I wanna mix it up with the Gabrinis?”
“Because Tommy Gabrini mixed it up with your mayor,” Reno said. “With your cash cow. And you didn’t like it.”
But Rizzo was animated with anger. “I didn’t give a fuck, what are you talking?” he asked. “That jackass is on his way out anyway. Nobody’s supporting him next term. I’m not even supporting him! Why should I care what somebody does to his balls?”
The van began bouncing along, as if it was now on rougher terrain.
“Somebody put a hit on Tommy before day this morning,” Reno said. “All roads still lead to you, Rizz.”
“Only in your mind, Reno.”
Reno quickly pulled out his gun, leaned closer to the man sitting across from him, and put the gun to his forehead. “What about now, asshole? Still in my mind?”
Reno had his undivided attention now. He knew Reno. He knew what he was capable of. “I didn’t put the hit on Tommy,” Rizzo said.
“Who did?” Reno asked.
“I didn’t.”
“Who did, Rizz,” Reno asked. “You don’t wanna fuck with me!”
“Come on, Marelli,” Sal said. “This your town. You know when shit goes down. Who put the hit on my brother?”
“I told you---” Rizzo started saying, but then Reno cocked the hammer of his gun.
Rizzo stiffened.
“Who?” Reno asked.
“Fuck it,” Rizzo said. “I don’t owe that fool shit!”
“Spit it out then,” Reno said.
Rizzo exhaled. “Fontaine,” he said. “The man you want is Carmine Fontaine.”
Reno frowned. “Who the fuck is that?”
“Fontaine?” Sal asked. He knew who it was. “That small-time prick. What would he know?”
“He knows,” Rizzo said. “It’s been in the works for weeks.”
“The hit on Tommy?”
“Yeah,” Rizzo said. “Fontaine planned it for weeks.”
“And you didn’t try to warn me?” Sal asked.
“Warn you? Why should I warn you?”
“You didn’t try to stop it,” Reno asked, “knowing you could be blamed?”
“I didn’t stop it because it wasn’t my fight. He tried to recruit my men, but I wouldn’t allow it. It had nothing to do with us.”
“What does it have to do with Fontaine?” Sal asked. “What’s the connection? Is he related to the mayor or something?”
“I don’t know about that. All I know is he was looking for muscle to take out Tommy Gabrini. Anybody with a brain knew he was nuts. But he was willing to pay to get it done.”
“Pay big money?” Reno asked.
“Money,” Rizzo responded. “I don’t know how big it was.”
Sal and Reno looked at each other. What the hell was going on here?
They drove and drove. Rizzo kept telling them to let him go, that it wasn’t him, but they weren’t convinced. He could be lying. He was caught red-handed and could have created this entire story. They didn’t know. But Reno had a way to find out.
He shot Rizzo in the foot.
Rizzo screamed out in pain and fell sideways holding onto his foot. Reno got down on the floor next to him and put the gun to his mouth. “Tell me the truth, or you’re dead right here in this funky ass van. Who put the hit on my cousin?”
“You shot me?” Rizzo asked, still stunned by Reno’s action.
“I’ll kill you if you don’t tell me the truth!”
“I’m telling you the truth! It was Fontaine. I didn’t have shit to do with it! It was Fontaine!”
Reno believed him. Now he believed him. He nodded to Sal.
“You gonna let me go now?” Rizzo asked, still in pain. “I told you the truth. “Reno? Sal? I told you the truth.”
Reno opened the back door and he and Sal jumped out of the van.
“Reno? Reno?”
Reno slammed the van’s door, closing Rizzo in.
Reno? Sal? Reno? Reno? Reno!” Rizzo was in pain, but even he knew he was wasting his breath. He was alone in the van.
The van had stopped on a backwoods road that led to one of Sal’s safe houses in town. Another car had been following them: their getaway car.
Reno looked at Sal. “We’ve got to take him out,” he said.
But Sal wasn’t willing to go that far. “No, Reno.”
“What do you mean no?”
“He didn’t do it!”
“So?”
Sal looked at his cousin. “What do you mean so? I never killed a human being in my entire life who didn’t have it coming to him. And I’m not starting now!”
Reno could understand that. “Okay,” he said. “Then don’t stop motherfucker.” Reno opened the door of the van again, pulled out his gun, and put a bullet in Rizzo’s head before Sal could barely turn. Reno then closed the door back again.
Sal couldn’t believe it. He stared at his cousin.
“If we let that fucker live,” Reno explained, his blue eyes blazing, “then he would have been the one putting a bullet through your head, my head, and Tommy’s too, and he’d think nothing of it while he was doing it. Not to mention what he would do to our loved ones.”
But Sal wasn’t convinced. “You didn’t have to kill him, Reno,” he said. “You didn’t have to kill him!”
“Yes, I did have to kill him! Yes, I did! You may not mind sacrificing your family to save that cocksucker’s life, and in your big heart you may think the risk is worth it. But I mind sacrificing my family, and I’m not risking shit. Not for that asshole. Not for a million like him. He might not have done this crime, but he did plenty others. Trust me. And I don’t leave witnesses. Now let’s go.”
He pushed Sal along.
“Get your fucking hands off of me!” Sal said.
“Let’s go then!” Reno said. “How many times I have to tell you to stop crying for bugs. They bite.”
Sal looked at his cousin. Then he looked back at the truck that now housed the dead man. Reno was right. He knew he was. But admitting it was like hell for Sal.
So he didn’t admit it. He headed for the car. Reno looked back at the truck too, felt that twinge of regret he always felt when he had to go there, but he knew he did what he had to do.
He ordered the truck to take their cargo to a disposal point, then he got in the getaway car too, and got away from there.
Carmine Fontaine lived in a row house on Harmaton Avenue. Reno and Sal knocked on the door, but after several knocks and doorbell rings, there was no answer.
“Not home,” Reno said. “Why am I not surprised? If Rizz was telling the truth that prick could be anywhere for all we know.”
But Sal continued to knock. “Do you listen to yourself? If Rizz was telling the truth you say. But we’ll never know now, will we? You took that option away from us.”
“Whatever, Sal. Since when have you been so cautious?”
“Since I’ve been seeing how reckless you can be.”
“Yeah, right, that’s the reason. Fucking liar!”
And Sal continued to knock.
“What are you doing?” Reno asked with a frown. “He’s not home.”
Sal knew it too. But he needed answers. He had a bloodlust too, but only for the bastard that ordered the hit on his brother. He wasn’t going to rest until he personally killed the motherfucker.
“Come on, let’s regroup,” Reno said.
“We should bust in,” Sal said. “He could be in there hiding.”
“We aren’t busting in shit,” Reno said. “We’ll send some guys over here. They’re bust the place up. But not you and me.”
Sal finally agreed with Reno for a change and stopped knocking.
“Let’s go,” Reno said.
But as they began walking back down the steps, Sal noticed a woman looking out of her window. It was Fontaine’s next door neighbor. A nosy neighbor, Sal noticed. And nosy neighbors, it had been Sal’s experience, made excellent snitches. He turned around and went and knocked on her door.
Now Reno was really upset. “What are you doing?” he asked. He was taking charge because he knew how crazy and irrational Sal could get whenever something happened to Tommy. But he was getting tired of Sal’s antics now.
But when the lady answered the door Sal was now knocking on, and said she did indeed know Carmine Fontaine, Reno headed back up the steps too.
“He’s not home however,” the nosy neighbor said.
“Do you know where he might be, ma’am?” Sal asked.
“No. I mean not specifically at this very hour. He went to Dubai is all I know.”
Reno saw the change on Sal’s face. This woman had said something significant, although Reno was stumped to know what.
“Dubai?” Sal asked her. Then he frowned. “He went to Dubai?”
“Yes,” the old lady said. “He went there to visit his sister.”
“His sister?” Sal asked.
“What are you asking about his sister for?” Reno asked. “Who gives a . . .” He looked at the old lady, and then respectfully tempered his speech. “Who cares?”
“He visits her periodically. She lives in Dubai now.”
“What’s her name?” Sal asked. “Do you know?”
“I know her quite well,” the old lady said. “Her name is Karen. Karen Johansson. She used to live with him years ago right in that house next door.”
Sal was floored. Reno looked at him. “What is it?” he asked.
“Thank-you,” Sal said and began hurrying down the steps.
“Yeah, thanks,” Reno said to the neighbor and hurried behind Sal.
When they made it on the bottom step, Reno turned Sal around. “What is it?” he asked again.
“Karen Johansson,” Sal said, “is Chelsey’s old lady.”
Reno frowned. “Chelsey Clinton?”
Sal frowned. “What?”
“Who the fuck is Chelsey?”
“Chelsey is Gemma’s sister,” Sal said.
As soon as Sal explained the connection, Reno understood. “Damn,” he said. “And this Fontaine character is the brother?”
“He’s the brother of Chelsey’s girlfriend, yes.”
“But I still don’t get it,” Reno said.
“Gemma’s sister, Chelsey,” Sal said, “works for Liz. She’s her bureau chief in Dubai.”
Reno’s eyes stretched. “I’ll be damned!” he said. “Now that’s what I call a connection.”
“Or a hell of a coincidence,” Sal said. “The one guy Rizzo fingers as the guy who called the hit on Tommy happens to be Chelsey’s old lady’s brother. And he just so happens to be away in Dubai when the hit went down. In Dubai, where Chelsey and Karen live, and where Liz has one of her bureaus.”
“Damn,” Reno said again.
“And get this,” Sal said. “Gemma told me how Chelsey is in love with Liz.”
“Get the fuck out of here!”
“She has a major crush on Liz. Their best friends, but Chelsey always wanted to take it to another level.”
“Wow,” Reno said. “Chelsey could have set this whole thing up because Tommy took Liz away from her.”
“She could have.”
“Or,” Reno started to say, but his mind going a mile a minute. He looked at Sal. “Or maybe it’s Liz.”
“Liz?”
“Maybe she want us to believe it’s Chelsey. Just like we pulled that bank deposit inside job subterfuge shit on Rizzo’s people, maybe this Liz is pulling it on us.”
“
I don’t know about that, Reno. She’s not the type.”
“Nobody is until they are. And it could be for reasons we can’t even begin to understand. So I’m going to ask you this: Just how well do you really know this Liz lady?”
Sal didn’t have a good answer for that question because, in truth, he didn’t really know her at all.
Liz opened the front door and Chelsey walked in. As soon as she entered, and closed the door, Liz pulled her into her arms. “Thank-you so much for coming,” she said. “When I called the office and Rome told me you were in town looking for me, and when you offered to come over, I knew I couldn’t turn you down. I needed to see you.”
Chelsey held onto Liz as if she were holding on to a fragile flower. “You knew I’d come,” she said. She closed her eyes as she held her.
It was Liz who had to all but force their separation.
Chelsey felt a little embarrassed, but she forged ahead. “What happened?” she asked her friend.
“It was awful, Chelse,” Liz responded. “Just awful.”
“But what happened?”
“It was . . . These men. They tried to Kill Tommy.”
Chelsey stepped back. “They what? When?”
“Late last night. When he was leaving my house.”
“But they didn’t harm you?”
“No, no.”
Chelsey sighed relief. “Good. That’s good to hear.”
Liz looked at her. “But they did harm Tommy,” she said. “They shot him repeatedly.”
“They killed him?”
Liz was amazed at how little concern she was showing. “No, thank God. I had to take matters into my own hand.”
“What does that mean? What did you do?”
Liz hesitated. Her instincts told her to hold off. She was telling too much. “I brought him here,” was all she would say about it.
“Where’s is he now? Is he going to be okay?”
That was better, Liz thought. “Yes,” she said.
“Where is he?”
“Upstairs.”
“Can I go up and see him?”
Another part of Liz was hesitant for some reason. But this was Chelse for crying out loud. This was her best friend since childhood. “Sure,” she said. “Come on.”
Tommy Gabrini 4: Dapper Tom Begin Again Page 18
