Murder Has Consequences

by Giammatteo, Giacomo

  Joe seemed relieved when I said that. “And?”

  “And he said he wants me to handle the project.” I didn’t like saying that, and I hoped he didn’t think I put that stipulation in.

  Joe hugged me, patting my back. “Nicky, that’s all we need is a shot. And I’d be pleased as hell if you handled the project. Tell Johnny we got a deal.”

  I started to leave, but he called me back, looking me square in the eye. “I misjudged you. Thanks.”

  “No problem, Mr. Tomkins. It’s part of my job.”

  “Well, from now on your job is going to pay better, and I might even put you in sales when the estimating is slow. You could make good money in sales.”

  “I like what I do fine, Mr. Tomkins, but I’m willing to try anything.” I headed to my office with a huge smile on my face. The raise came at just the right time. I started on the day’s work but found it difficult to focus; all I wanted to do was tell Angie about the raise. It would ease her worries. Before long Sheila came to the door.

  “You have a visitor,” she said, but she was leaning over and she whispered it, as if it were a secret.

  “Who?”

  She leaned in even closer. “A nun. She said her name is Sister Mary Thomas.”

  I smiled and got up from my desk. “That’s okay. She’s a friend of mine from way back.”

  Sister Thomas came in and I hugged her. “A cloudy day just got brighter.”

  “I could say you’re full of something, Mr. Fusco, but I’d have to go to confession.”

  I laughed as I offered her a seat, then pulled up another chair and sat opposite her. A serious look crossed my face. I knew if Sister Thomas was here it was something important.

  “There are two children who have come to me with something they want to get off their chests, but they need secrecy. No one must know.”

  “This about Bobby Campisi?”

  She nodded. “They saw something that night.”

  “When do I meet them?”

  “I’ll let you know. Maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow. But you must assure me—”

  I nodded. “No problem, Sister. You know me.”

  “Good. Then I must be going. I’ll call you.”

  “Wait, I’ll walk you out. I’ve got to see about leaving early anyway.” I went down the hall to Joe’s office, figuring he couldn’t be too upset about me leaving a little early after getting the bid. I poked my head inside. “Mr. Tomkins?”

  He got up and came over, surprised, I think, to see a nun with me.

  “Joe, I was wondering if I could take off the rest of the day. I know it’s not a good time, but my wife just told me we’re going to have a baby, and I wanted to celebrate.”

  Sister Thomas hugged me, her face all excitement. “Niccolo, you didn’t tell me! That is wonderful. I know Angela must be excited.”

  Joe smiled too. “By all means, Nicky, for God’s sake…” He bowed to Sister Thomas. “Forgive me, Sister, I didn’t mean…”

  “Don’t be silly.”

  “Joe, I forgot, this is Sister Mary Thomas,” I turned to her and said, “Sister, this is—”

  She reached out her hand. “Joe and I know each other,” she said, “but by his look of confusion, I can tell he doesn’t remember me.” She smiled. “You would have known me back in school as Concetta Panelli. We spent a few years under Sister Gertrude’s tutelage.”

  His eyes lit up. “Concetta!” he said, and that started the conversation rolling. I left while it was in progress.

  As I drove home, I decided to watch for Rosa’s mysterious followers. I parked off to the side of the church and watched as she walked home with her friends. I spotted them right away, and they didn’t waste time. They drove slowly past her, then parked about a block up the street under a big sycamore. I figured out the rest of the drill; they’d wait for her to pass, and one of them would jump out and grab her.

  My gut churned and my heart raced a million miles an hour. What the hell is going on? Once they got situated, I got out of the car and walked at a strong pace up the other side of the street, my head lowered, watching Rosa the whole time. I had my baseball cap on and a small derringer underneath it. Not a powerful weapon but it would do the job at close range, though if I got in that close I probably didn’t need a gun.

  I was halfway up the block when they got out of the car and approached her. They were moving fast. My heart raced faster. I moved quick and silent. One of them reached for her, his hand on her shoulder.

  “Why don’t you come with me?”

  I was almost to him when he touched her. I closed the remaining distance with lightning speed, then struck. Spreading my arms wide, I grabbed their heads, smashing them together like they used to in the Three Stooges shows. It sounds stupid, but I don’t know a quicker way to disable and disorient two people. One of them fell. I grabbed the other in a chokehold. I fought, forcing calm so I didn’t kill him.

  “Why are you following my daughter?”

  He gasped, unable to speak. I let off some on the hold. The other guy stirred. I kicked him in the gut, knocking him over.

  “We’re cops,” the guy I had in a chokehold said. “We’re goddamn cops.”

  The fear in my gut grew worse, but I wasn’t buying it without proof. “Show me.”

  He opened his jacket and I saw the badge. When I let go, he spun around, looking like he wanted to hit me. I stood firm. He helped the other guy up. “You okay, Tim?”

  Tim rubbed his head. “I’m all right,” he said, then glared. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m her father, and watch your mouth.”

  Rosa had tears in her eyes. “What’s going on, Dad?”

  I hugged her. “You and your friends go home. I’ll take care of this.”

  Tim started to say something but the other guy stopped him. “I could arrest you for assaulting an officer.”

  I shook my head. “No jury in the world is buying that. I’m her father, and she tells me she’s being followed, then I see two guys come out of a car and lay their hands on her.” I shook my head again. “No way in hell.” I poked my finger in the one guy’s chest. “Why are you following her?”

  “We got orders.”

  “Orders? You’re driving a car with PA tags. Whose orders?”

  Tim got a confused look on his face, but it cleared. “This was my brother Mike’s car. I just bought it off him and haven’t changed the tags yet.”

  “You didn’t tell me who ordered you to follow Rosa,” I said.

  “You’ll have to ask Borelli about that.”

  “Borelli?” I wanted to hit this guy. If Borelli had been there I would have hit him. “Tell him to see me if he wants something. This girl is a minor and I forbid any questioning of her without me being present.” I stared from one to the other. “Got that, boys?”

  “Borelli will be pissed.”

  “Good, because I’m more than pissed. And you can tell him that.”

  Tim laughed. “I don’t think Detective Borelli will care whether you’re pissed.”

  I moved real close to Tim, within inches of his face. “He’ll care, Tim. Believe me. And you can tell him Nicky the Rat told you to say so.”

  CHAPTER 34

  Setting Traps

  Brooklyn, New York

  All the way home Lisa thought about how to handle Tom. She couldn’t just kill him. She had to find a way to get her mother safe first. Lisa got off the elevator, and took her time getting to the door, making sure to wear a frown as she entered.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Tom asked.

  She dropped her purse in the chair by the door. “They came to the office today. They interrogated me.”

  “Who did?”

  “The cops. Three of them.” She ran to the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water. “I’m scared.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Tom said. “They question everyone when something like this happens.”

  The girl came out of the bedroom, naked, and l
ooking puzzled. “When something like what happens? What happened?”

  “Go back to the room,” Tom said. “You come out when I tell you.”

  She disappeared behind the door, but Lisa felt sure she was standing there listening. It’s what she would have done. “We’ve got to get out of here. We can’t stay.”

  Tom muted the TV and put his head down. “I’ve got to think,” he said. “Give me time to think.”

  “I need to see my mom.”

  “Bullshit,” said Tom.

  “I just need to see that she’s all right,” Lisa said.

  Tom grabbed her hair and yanked it. “I’ll worry about that old hag. You worry about those detectives.”

  “Okay, Tom. Let go.”

  Tom released her hair, walked to the window, and peeked through the blinds.

  “What are you looking for?” Lisa asked.

  “I’m sure they followed you. They’d have to be pretty stupid not to.”

  “I checked. No one followed me.”

  He laughed. “You couldn’t check shit,” he said, then looked up and down the street. “Oh, yeah. There they are.”

  She ran beside him, peering out. “Where?”

  “See that woman waiting by the bus stop? The Latina?”

  “She’s waiting for a bus.”

  “No, she’s not. Look at how she’s looking around at everything, everything but over here.” Tom pulled Lisa closer. “Take a close look and tell me she’s not a cop. Go on.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I just wanted you to see how stupid you were. I swear, I don’t know why I ever married you.” He closed the blinds and went back to sitting on the sofa.

  In the morning, Lisa made coffee and then headed to work. She decided during the night, while Tom was fucking that girl, that she would talk to Donovan today. Maybe.

  ***

  Frankie was at the cafe long before Sherri and Lou arrived. He had a lot of thinking to do, especially about what was going on in Wilmington. Nicky called last night and the news wasn’t good. Not a single lead that would clear him or point to another person in Bobby’s death. And Frankie wasn’t faring much better in Brooklyn. They had nothing, unless you counted the one interview of the lady from the office building. But an affair with the deceased didn’t point to a murder suspect, especially when the lady’s husband is dead. Still, they might find something at her house.

  Frankie got another coffee, a cappuccino this time, and sat at the table, opening the paper to the business section. Not like he had investments to keep track of, he just liked reading the business news. As he scanned the technology section he heard Sherri’s friendly greeting.

  “Good morning, Frankie.”

  Frankie set the paper down. “How’s it going, Miller? Surprised you could be so chipper after riding in with the grump.”

  “Mazzetti? He’s a prince. I heard you were the nasty one.”

  “Yeah, you know how it works…first one to the well, and all that.”

  Sherri shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “He doesn’t either,” Mazzetti said, returning with two coffees. “He picks up sayings now and then from other cultures and tries to use them, but he usually gets it wrong.” Lou grabbed a chair from an empty table next to them. “That one comes from some desert race. You know how they talk about water and wells and thirst.”

  “I guess in—”

  Lou waved his hand as if to brush her comment away. “Nah, means nothing. They just like to sound philosophical.”

  Sherri stood. “I’m starting to rethink what Frankie said about who the grump in the morning is.”

  Lou tossed his half-filled coffee cup into the trash and stood with her. “I knew you’d side with the handsome one. Haven’t you learned from the movies yet that the good looking guy is always mean and the old grumpy guy is nice.”

  “I don’t have time to scratch through all that, Lou.”

  “Then I guess we better get going?” Lou said, and turned to Frankie. “How do you want to do this?”

  “Might as well ride together,” Frankie said. “We can all fit in my car.”

  They drove for about twenty minutes through medium traffic. Sherri pointed to the street coming up and said, “Turn right here. It’s just up the block.”

  “You know this area?” Frankie asked.

  “It’s a lot like the rest of Brooklyn. Everybody minds their own business, so we probably can’t count on any help from neighbors.”

  “Do we know she’s at work?” Frankie asked. “Anybody check yet?”

  “I did,” Sherri said. “Monica said Lisa came in a few minutes late, but she’s still there.”

  “Then all we have to do is wait.”

  Sherri looked over at him. “For what? I thought you said we were going in?”

  “We are, but we have to wait for someone to come into the building. I’m not breaking down the front door.”

  “But you’ll break into her apartment?”

  Lou looked at Frankie, who turned to her. “I guess you could put it that way.”

  “Everybody got their phones off?” Lou asked. “Can’t afford a goddamn ring tone going off while we’re sneaking inside.”

  “Mine’s off,” Sherri said.

  “How are things going in Wilmington?” Mazzetti asked.

  “Shit, that reminds me,” Frankie said. “I’ve got to call Nicky.”

  Lou looked at him with narrowed eyes, then turned to Sherri. “Give us a minute, will you, Miller?”

  Sherri cocked her head to Frankie, then back to Lou, but she stepped away. When she was out of earshot, Mazzetti said, “Don’t tell me you’re still hanging out with that damn Rat guy? Please don’t tell me that.”

  “Forget about it, Lou.”

  “Forget about it?” Lou paced. “You might have fooled the rest of them with your bullshit, but I know who killed all those people, and it wasn’t Tito Martelli.”

  “You don’t know anything about him,” Frankie said. “He…never mind.”

  “I know you risked your career for him. You better ask yourself what he’s ever done for you. That’s all I’m saying.”

  Frankie tensed, jaw tightening. “I said forget about it.”

  “Yeah, I’ll forget all right. I’ll forget I ever fuckin’ knew you when they come to put the cuffs on.”

  Frankie looked over to Sherri and waved her to come back. She didn’t ask what that was all about, but the question was on her face.

  About fifteen minutes later a lady carrying a bag of groceries walked up the sidewalk toward the apartment.

  “That’s us,” Frankie said, and approached her. Sherri and Lou followed him.

  He got to the door just ahead of her and flashed his badge. “We need to get inside, and we’d like to keep this quiet.” He leaned close to her. “Undercover operation.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Oh my. All right. Follow me in.” She opened the door with her key then stepped aside. “Drugs?”

  Lou held his finger to his lips. “Can’t say.”

  She nodded as if she were in on the whole thing.

  Frankie and Sherri waited at the elevator for Lou, then pushed the button for the fourth floor.

  “Good thing they’ve got elevators,” Lou said. “Otherwise you’d be doing this yourselves. Me and steps parted ways.”

  Frankie tapped Sherri on the shoulder as they rode up in the elevator. “I know this is all new to you, so listen up. We’re going in on the sly, as they say. That means no warrant, no record of us going in. It also means no clues left. No fingerprints, no DNA, nothing. Got that?”

  “Sounds illegal to me.”

  “Never thought of it that way,” Lou said.

  “We play fair,” Frankie said. “If we find something connected to the murders we use it to nab her somehow. But if we find drugs or anything else, we leave it be.”

  She looked at him with a doubtful stare. “Really?”

  “No
shit,” Lou said. “For real.”

  “All right, I can buy into that. Let’s go.”

  About then the elevator stopped and they got off, making their way to #412. Frankie held up his fingers, signaling them to keep quiet, then leaned his head in and listened at the door. He signaled Sherri over, cautioning her to be quiet, and whispered real low. “You hear that? TV is on.”

  “Could be she just left it on,” Sherri said.

  “Let’s go in,” Lou said.

  Frankie listened closely then looked at Lou and Sherri. “I think somebody’s in there.”

  ***

  Lisa Jackson walked up and down the hall outside her office. She knew what she should do was call Donovan, but every time she pulled out her phone, she thought about her mother and what would happen to her if Donovan couldn’t get Tom to talk.

  The hell with it, she finally said, and dialed the number Donovan had given her. It rang twice then went to voicemail. Lisa almost hung up, but decided to leave a message. “Detective Donovan, this is Lisa Jackson. I need to talk with you right away. It’s important. Very important.” Before she hung up, she said, “Oh, and do not call back on this number. I’ll call you later.”

  ***

  Tom Jackson heard a noise outside the door. He was tempted to mute the TV, but if they had heard it, then they’d know someone was in here. He grabbed the girl, pulled her onto the sofa and pressed his knife against her throat. He leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “Quiet, girl. Very quiet or I’ll bleed you.”

  She nodded, not saying a word.

  He got up from the sofa and, with her neck under his arms, walked slowly toward the door, his knife still pressed against her neck. When he reached the wall he leaned close, listening. The girl was good, he had to admit. She never made noise, not even a gasp when the lock seemed to move. The cops were out there. Tom thought about what he’d do if they came in. Not much he could do. Guess I’ll have to kill them.

  He planned it out, moving a little farther behind where the door would open. He’d leave them just enough room to open the door and get inside, then he’d spring from behind it and take them one at a time, each one with a swift cut to the neck, or a jab into the lungs. He felt the girl tremble. Her fear gave him comfort. She’d be no trouble.