Ice Cream Man

by Charles Puccia

  “Chopin? Fuck me. What tune was he trying to play on me? I’ll bet it was a showtune since he knew I’m gay. Probably ‘Hello Dolly’ or ‘New York, New York.’”

  Ben filled Vinnie in on the connection between Sal Friscollo, his boss Carmine Aquafreddo, and Bill Barrington. Ben told him about John’s fear that Carmine might worry the inquiries were about an investigation—and that he’d act mercilessly as a result—and that for safety reasons, Vinnie’s family, Dan, and Blanca had been asked to have no direct contact with either Vinnie or Ben. Everything would go through Ginny on a pay-as-you-go disposable cell phone.

  The group disbanded, and everyone went home, leaving Ben and Vinnie alone.

  “Would you mind if I come back tomorrow?” Ben asked. “I think we should have a talk about your future here.”

  Vinnie agreed, but the idea made him more worried than observing Sal Friscollo’s mug shot had. He understood: his days at Ben’s condo were numbered. The longer he remained, the greater Ben’s exposure as a mob target. Ben may have been the most powerful man Vinnie had ever seen, but muscles didn’t stop bullets. Vinnie didn’t want to leave, but he knew his time was up.

  Chapter 57

  Check-Out

  Fresh flowers filled the vase on the dining table. A rhythmic rapping on the door interrupted Joe and Vinnie’s conversation. Both men turned to the door.

  “Come in,” Joe said.

  As soon as he stepped into the room Ben knew from Vinnie’s red eyes. Joe had told Ben earlier, before Vinnie: no need for round-the-clock nursing. An UltraFit physiotherapist would replace Joe.

  Joe turned to Vinnie. “Crying won’t help, pumpkin. I’ll be back to visit.” Then he rushed out of the room, his own tears flowing.

  Ben sat on the couch and tapped the cushion. Vinnie hobbled across on crutches.

  “I know, I need to go,” Vinnie said. “No need for you to say it. I’ll fuckin’ leave as soon as this leg cast is removed in two days.” With the back of his hand, Vinnie wiped his nose.

  Ben’s eyes widened and his voice quaked. “God, no. You stay as long as you need to.”

  “Pity? Is that it, Ben? Don’t worry, I’ll cope fine in my apartment.”

  “Of course, except for one thing… er… it’s just that… Dan and I think you might need to be hidden for a while.”

  “What?”

  “You may be a target for another attack.”

  “A target? By who?”

  “The mob.”

  “For fuck’s sake, why would that be?”

  “Can’t say, exactly.” Ben grabbed Vinnie’s hand. “If you don’t want to stay, I’d understand. I’ll help you find somewhere safe.” Ben sandwiched Vinnie’s hand between his own.

  Vinnie pulled his hand away and raised his voice. “Want to leave? You’ve got to be fuckin’ kidding me. I love this place. A never-empty refrigerator, great wine cabinet.” Vinnie grinned. “I should mention I sampled from it once or twice.”

  “Four times.”

  “Fuck you. I thought you didn’t count bottles.”

  “I don’t. Empties in the recycle were a giveaway.” Ben’s lips curled up at the corners. “It’s settled then.”

  Before Ben was halfway across the room, Vinnie called out. “I won’t overstay my welcome. I don’t want to mess up our friendship.” He hesitated. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

  Ben skated back to the couch, put his hands on Vinnie’s shoulders, pressing him against the back of the sofa. Then he lowered his head and his lips took hold of Vinnie’s, his tongue exploring, his eyes tearing up.

  Muffled sounds accompanied pounding fists. Vinnie panted, “Christ, Ben.”

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

  Vinnie responded by untying Ben’s sweatpants and guiding them to his ankles. Ben wore no underwear, and muscular colonnade legs flanked Ben’s stiffened penis. With two fingers, Vinnie’s long strokes bounced Ben’s hard cock off his multi-layered abs. This was not dispassionate, a pickup, or a one-night-only with a friend of a friend. Vinnie kissed Ben’s engorged tip and gyrated his walnut balls. Then his hand sank deeper, an extended finger probing Ben’s anus. The jolt swelled rocket adductors, and hard muscled plates clamped down on Vinnie’s arm. Blood circulated through capillaries, making Ben’s lower body tingle. His white jet stream spurted, spewing for seconds or eternity, soaking Vinnie’s cotton tee. A roar cascaded with each pulse: “Fuck. Yes. Fuck me. Don’t stop. More. Fuck me.”

  Vinnie’s eyelids shuddered open, and he pushed away. Grabbing his crutches, Vinnie swayed to stand, but he was blocked by a colossus.

  “What’s wrong? Are you all right? Vinnie, did I hurt you? Vinnie…?”

  Ben lifted Vinnie off the couch so that his feet were dangling. Vinnie was embedded into Ben’s pectoral cleft and encircled by a stay-forever crush. Vinnie’s newly healed ribs ached, and he could barely breathe.

  “Uh… uh….” Escape was impossible. But a knuckle tap to Ben’s forehead brought Vinnie’s release.

  “Fuck, Ben. You nearly suffocated me.” Vinnie touched his rib cage.

  “I’m sorry. Shit, did I hurt you? I’m an idiot. What happened? Why did you stop? Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine.” Vinnie poked his rib cage. “Something happened. Your words and the… well, your… goo, it made me remember something important. It solves the mystery. Fuckin’ A, I’ve solved it.”

  “Solved the mystery? What mystery?”

  Vinnie just stared, his mind racing.

  “Vinnie, what happened? Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?”

  Vinnie put his arms around Ben’s neck. “I’m fine. It was mind-blowing, if you’ll excuse the pun. But I’ve remembered something and I need to write this down—is that okay? Can I have a rain check?”

  ****

  The next morning, Vinnie made his call.

  “Good morning, Vinnie. A bit early, isn’t it?” Dan looked at the kitchen clock.

  “Ben helped me remember!” Vinnie elected not to explain the circumstances of his epiphany. Imagine how much I’d remember if he’d stuck his dick up my ass.

  “You okay, Vinnie?”

  “Yeah. Now let me tell you about the recordings.”

  ****

  Vinnie’s next call was to Maria Benfatto.

  Maria, following Vinnie’s detailed instructions, found the USB memory stick behind the cleaning fluids on the top shelf of the supply closet.

  She listened to the recordings with Shareen. Here was proof of Bill and Linda’s embezzlement plans, and circumstantial motivation to suggest Linda’s “rape” had been a hoax.

  With ears still burning, Maria called Gary Del Vecchio at his West Palm Beach getaway house. That call ended with a meeting scheduled for Monday morning—a meeting of senior partners, corporate counsel, and Dan and Ginny; Bill Barrington was not invited.

  ****

  Jammed in a crowded elevator with bleary Monday morning workers stood Dan and Ginny holding hands, their visitor badges hanging from their necks and their anxiety mounting with each floor.

  Bill saw them enter the conference room, and turned to Blanca. “What the fuck are they doing here?”

  “Who?”

  “Dan Livorno and his sweet-ass wife. I saw them come off the elevator and head to the conference room. What’s that about?”

  Blanca didn’t know, but she guessed maybe it was a review of Dan’s benefits. That answer satisfied Bill, and he returned to his office and closed the door. Stupid Rican bitch would have heard about it if it involved anything more.

  Gary was seated at the head of the conference table and presided over the knotted toads lined to one side: Maria Benfatto, Shareen Cooper, Brian Neale, and Myron Rosenberg. Dan and Ginny Livorno sat on the opposite side of the table, separated by tabletop speakers.

  Maria was in charge. “If it’s all right with everyone here, I’ll fast forward through certain sections that may cause… embarrassment. Is that acceptable?”

&
nbsp; “No, it is not.” Ginny’s voice was hard. “My husband was hurt. Vinnie nearly lost his life. Play it all, in its entirety, and to hell with who’s embarrassed.”

  Gary nodded.

  Maria played Bill’s recording first, then Vinnie’s tape. Silence gave way to gasps, even from those that had heard it before.

  At the end, Ginny spoke. “That’s even more outrageous than I’d imagined—in addition to being disgusting and obscene. My husband was vilified, painted as a pervert, and you all believed it!” Ginny was furious.

  “Ginny, it’s all right,” Dan said, trying to calm her.

  Ginny scowled. “It is not all right.”

  Gary pressed his hands together in front of him. “Dan, Ginny’s right. You should be angry. Both of you.”

  Myron interrupted. “Gary, don’t say any more at this time. We can prepare a statement later.”

  Gary leaned across the table toward Myron, his hands balled into fists, his knuckles white. His anger matched Ginny’s. “Myron, shut the fuck up. Another fucking word and you’re fired. Keep your goddamn lawyer’s asshole of a mouth shut. Not. Another. Fucking. Word.”

  Myron’s eyes went wide, but he shut his mouth and leaned back in his seat.

  The group became salt pillar stiff, except for Maria. She walked behind Gary, put one hand on his lower spine, the other stroking his neck, then touched his face. She turned him around, hugged him, and whispered, “Sit down. Have a drink of water.”

  Everyone sat silently as Gary drank his water. Fingers fidgeted underneath the table. The room chilled. No one doubted that Maria had prevented violence, least of all Myron. She’d shown her worth.

  With an earnest tone, Gary spoke. “Dan, Ginny, I apologize with all my heart. I am responsible, and I take full responsibility for the wrong we—I did to you. I can’t find the words, but you will be compensated.” Gary shot a look at Myron. “I turned my back on the best person—the best people I’ve ever known. Dan, I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

  Dan rose and walked over to Gary. He placed one hand on Gary’s shoulder and the other on his arm. “I do forgive you. You acted based on the facts available. I would have done the same. You were… you are my friend. Our friend. Right, Ginny?”

  The crinkling eyes above Ginny’s penciled lips belied her nod. She remained upset—not for her hurt, but for Dan’s.

  Gary hugged Dan. “Thank you.” He sprinted from the room, wiping his eyes, and lowering his head.

  Brian Neale, the named senior partner at Del Vecchio & Neale, Inc., followed Gary into his office. Brian confessed his unwitting complicity with Bill and Linda, including providing his support for Linda’s proposal even before the presentation.

  “Gary, I was played. Bill knew I’d do whatever was easiest. He knew I just wanted to bury myself in my office, away from board member small talk. I’m as culpable as you. More, even.”

  “Yes, you are.” Gary showed teeth.

  Brian’s shoulders slumped. “What now?”

  “Now we act. We take legal action, both criminal and civil. We recuperate embezzled money. We dismiss Linda Lords, effective immediately. As for Bill Barrington, given his status as partner and board member, two thirds of the board must vote for his dismissal. But I don’t think that will be a problem, do you?”

  Brian stood up straight. “As the senior partners, we can take temporary emergency action against any junior partners. I vote yes to remove Bill Barrington. You?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We have forty-eight hours, at which time the entire board must vote.”

  “Brian, one more thing. We will make this up to Dan. Understand? That is not negotiable. You tell Myron that, because Maria won’t stop me the next time. I’ll bring this whole goddamn place down if need be.”

  ****

  Disregarding the firewall protocol, Blanca went to Vinnie on her lunch hour. “Vinnie,” she said, “I could take two hours if I want. I don’t have a boss!” She was giddy with joy. Bill had been escorted by security out of DV&N—and Linda had, too, only a day before her return to Paris.

  Vinnie’s Pacific Rim smile could have cracked his face, requiring a cast to replace those removed two days before. He laughed at Blanca’s jokes about Bill’s departure.

  Chapter 58

  Shebang Office Politics

  Ginny gloated that the results fit her theory of the Prisoner’s Dilemma game theory plan—although not exactly in the way she’d anticipated.

  Linda had spilled the beans in Gary’s office, even though she received nothing in return. She admitted that Bill had withheld Paris data, that they’d trumped up the Northrop crisis, and that she’d devised the embezzlement scheme. The fake rape, she said, was Bill’s idea. She blamed Bill’s arrogance and stupidity. Her plan would not have been discovered had Bill not provided Gary with the smoking gun.

  “Son of a bitch,” Brian said. “I hope you rot in hell. I will do everything to see you incarcerated for years and years. You disgust me. Gary, I had no idea how far this went. I am sorry. I’ll resign. I’m a fool.”

  Before Brian reached the door, Gary spoke. “Sit down, Brian. We were all fools, and I was the biggest. Myron, too.”

  Myron nodded in agreement.

  Gary continued. “Linda, we will press charges, you can bet your crooked ass on it.” He looked outside where the winter sky pushed on the window. “You have fifteen minutes to leave the premises. A security guard will escort you to retrieve your personal items; we’ll have someone ship whatever personal effects you left in Paris. You won’t need much in Attica.”

  Instead of leaving, Linda remained seated, an index finger pointing to the ceiling. “If I give you something even bigger… can I avoid prosecution?”

  No one breathed.

  Gary scowled. “There is nothing you could provide that would make a difference.”

  “Now, now, Gary,” Linda said. “Don’t you want to hear what it is first? You’ll find it very interesting,”

  Gary sighed and looked to Myron for an opinion. Myron nodded his assent; so did Brian.

  Gary’s lips barely parted as he spoke. “Fine. Go ahead, Linda, tell us something interesting that you think will save your ass.”

  “Vinnie’s mugging was a hit job. He was supposed to die. Bill paid for a contract hit on Vinnie. And when Vinnie comes out of hiding, the contract will be fulfilled.” Linda’s state fair pie-eating face was blue-ribbon certified.

  Myron’s jaw dropped—and his wasn’t the only one. This just went from state to federal.

  As if waiting to gain control of her tongue, Linda took her time. “I want witness protection. I won’t testify if I’m sent to Attica. You want justice for Vinnie? Then you’re going to need my testimony.” Linda had moved closer to satisfying Ginny’s Prisoner’s Dilemma criteria. Linda felt in charge, top dog among these two-bit turds.

  Gary shot out of his chair, pointing to the door. “Leave immediately. Not the fifteen minutes I said before. Maria will have your coat and handbag delivered to the lobby. She’ll even send toilet paper to wipe that shit-eating grin off your face. You haven’t won. Get out of my sight.”

  This time, Linda did as ordered—and quickly.

  Maria marched Linda by her elbow to the elevator, taking away her pass and employee ID.

  ****

  That fucking little faggot broke into my office. He had no right to copy data from my computer. He should be fired. Fucking faggots stick together. I’ll shit on you and everyone else here.

  Bill’s thoughts raced while he emptied his desk, supervised by two guards. He’d been given the same fifteen minutes as Linda. Shareen stood with the guards, inspecting everything Bill put into the cardboard box provided by Hawthorne’s security team.

  Blanca had been told to wait in Maria’s office with the door closed and the corridor window darkened. Maria filled Blanca in on events. Neither Shareen nor Blanca was surprised about Linda’s dismissal, but they had assumed that Bill, as a partner and
board member, was protected. And Blanca’s fears for Vinnie intensified when she learned that Bill had orchestrated the hit on Vinnie.

  Finally, Maria gave Blanca permission to take a long lunch break. Maria walked out, thinking about Officer Paganno’s death. This needed to be shared, with Vinnie, Dan, and Ben.

  ****

  “I’ll call Lenny Cohen. He works closely with the attorney general and has connections with the feds.” The lawyer tone fitted Myron better than his own skin.

  “Isn’t that the guy who advised we dismiss Dan?” Gary shook his head; this was a rhetorical question.

  “Yes, and he was right. I’m sorry—I know you don’t want to hear it, but based on the facts we had, Lenny made the right call. Even Dan said as much. But we were played. With the true facts, we’d have made a different decision. Don’t go back on old history. We’re in way over our head, and to tell the truth, I’m not prepared to deal with the mob.”

  Myron left to make his call, but first he added, “I don’t suppose I need to say this, but not a word to anyone, especially Bill, about what Linda said.”

  A half hour later, Myron returned to Gary’s office.

  “Lenny said we say nothing to anyone. And we need to impress that, strongly, upon everyone that was in the room with Linda. Lives are at risk. Lenny’s going to talk to Linda and advise her not to have any contact with Bill from this point—or else she becomes an accessory after the fact to murder in the commission of a crime. The feds will secure a wiretap for Linda’s cell under RICO, the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act. Bill must be kept in the dark, so focus your accusation on the sex entrapment and fraud. And Lenny agreed that we had every right to remove Bill from the office immediately. Like, no shit. I told Lenny even I knew that.”

  ****

  Neither Dan nor Vinnie seemed particularly surprised to learn from Blanca that Vinnie’s mugging had been not a hate crime but a mob hit. Dan had suspected it all along, though he took no joy in being proven right. Vinnie looked on the bright side: it gave him all the more reason to remain with Ben; plus, Blanca hinted that DV&N might make him a hefty compensation offer—or at least she felt they should. Vinnie felt freedom turning the corner, if he survived. All he needed to do was sit tight in Ben’s condo. Preferably on Ben’s lap.