CHAPTER 51
SHATTERED OATH
Brooklyn—18 Months Ago
As Tony got up and started for the door, the waiter intercepted him with check in hand.
“Mr. Sannullo—”
“Put it on the tab.”
He bumped a few customers, then burst through the front doors. Paulie was waiting.
“What happened? Tito came out of there like he wanted to kill someone.”
“Just the normal shit.”
“Hey, Tony, don’t give me that. What happened?”
Tony filled Paulie in on the details about Gina and how they had to hit her. He left out the part about hitting Nicky.
“You mean Nicky was supposed to take her out? You telling me our Nicky is a fuckin’ shooter?”
“You heard it right. Problem is, he didn’t do the job. Now he’s fucked.”
“What are we gonna do? We can’t let anything happen to Nicky. I don’t give a shit about Tito. This is Nicky we’re talking about.”
Tony stared at him as if he were a two-year-old. “You don’t give a shit about Tito? Who the fuck pays for your house? Who sends your kids to private school?” When Paulie didn’t say anything, Tony continued. “Don’t worry. I got a plan. If we get the girl, we can convince Tito to leave Nicky alone. I promise.” Tony patted Paulie’s arm then headed for his car. “Meet me at Bobby’s later.”
Paulie started to say something else, but Tony turned on him. “And listen, you ever bring up Angie again, and I’ll kick your ass.”
“What the hell? All I did was tell him to go see her.”
“Yeah, well, leave it alone. Nicky’s better off without her. Look what happens to him when he gets with girls. This one’s got him in trouble. Big trouble.”
Paulie got into the car, still shaking his head.
TONY WONDERED ALL THE way over how to go about this. He couldn’t come right out and ask Nicky, because he wasn’t supposed to know; besides, that would make Nicky suspicious. First thing he’d have to do is prove that Nicky didn’t kill her. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Tito said it was in the papers, but Tony knew how easy it was to get something planted. Usually, though, the paper ran a retraction a few days later to cover their asses, using the old honest-mistake argument if anyone questioned them. He’d bet anything Tito never checked for a retraction. He picked up his cell and dialed Tito’s number.
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“Me.”
“What are you going to ruin my day with now?”
“Just a thought for you. Maybe have somebody check the papers where you read that first story. See if there were any retractions.”
“That it?”
“That’s it.” Tito hung up.
Tony wouldn’t want to be Manny, or whoever verified that information.
TITO MARTELLI STORMED INTO the house, slamming doors as he moved from room to room. When he finally settled in the kitchen, he called for Manny.
Even before Manny got to the kitchen, Tito was screaming. “That fuckin’ Nicky didn’t kill her, Manny. I thought you checked this out. I thought she was dead.”
Manny waited, knowing from experience that Tito could not be dealt with when he got like this. He walked to the sink, got water ready for coffee, poured iced tea for himself. Then he waited while Tito rambled. When Tito settled down, Manny spoke. “You mean Gina? If you’re talking about her, I did check. Papers ran the obit, remember? Besides, Chicky and them saw it go down.”
“You double-check? I just did. They printed a retraction three days later.”
Manny gulped, hard. “I’ll get on it.”
Tito sat down, calm coming after a minute. “I want Tony in charge of this. Tell him he can have four guys. Just make sure one of them is Johnny Muck. And no matter what orders Tony gives, I want Nicky and Gina dead. But they’ve got to wait until we find Gina.”
“Yeah, no shit.”
TONY GOT THE CALL from Manny and decided to call Nicky that night, after he met with Tito and had the guys lined up. Tito had given him four men plus a driver. That should be enough to tail him and not get spotted. Besides, Tito had borrowed guys from the Bronx so Nicky wouldn’t recognize them. He still didn’t know where Nicky lived, so it was imperative to get him to meet. Tony dialed his number at nine o’clock. All he had was a cell phone, so there was no easy trace on it with his phone company contact, and Nicky wasn’t one to stay on the line for long. After three rings, he answered.
“It’s Tony.”
“Long time, huh?”
“No time for fun. I need to see you.”
There was hesitation on Nicky’s end of the line. “Why?” His voice was heavy with suspicion.
“Not on this line. Meet me at Gerry’s place. Down on—”
“I know where it is. Give me twenty minutes.”
“I’ll be there.”
TONY WAITED ALONE IN a booth in the bar. The men were stationed blocks away, but with a good view of the bar so they could follow Nicky when he left. They were instructed to follow with extreme caution and switch off regularly with others so that Nicky didn’t pick up the tail. With five cars, they should pull it off.
“What’s up, Tony?”
Tony jumped. “Shit, didn’t even see you come in.”
Nicky slid into the seat opposite him. “What the hell is going on?”
Tony looked around as if they were being watched, then he whispered. “I know I’m not even supposed to know this, but you know that broad you did a while back? Well—”
Nicky sat up straight, eyes drifting left and right. His hands moved to his lap, poised for…something. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”
“Forget what I know or don’t know. Just listen. She’s been spotted by one of Tito’s men. I don’t know where, and I don’t know anything else about it. What I do know is that Tito is going nuts, talking about killing you and her both.”
Nicky never flinched. Never blinked. If he really was the hit man, he was one cold fuck.
“Tony, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you shitting me? Are we on camera or something?” He held up his hand, signaling for a waiter. When he showed, Nicky ordered a glass of Chianti.
“Nicky, I—”
He held his hand out, laughing. “Listen, not that I don’t appreciate your concern, because you really seem worried, but trust me, there’s nothing to worry about.” He laughed again. “Goddamn, Tony, I’m a union rep.”
After the waiter brought the wine, Nicky talked about everything—everything but what Tony had brought up. “How’s Celia?”
“She’s okay. I’m just glad you’re not involved with this. You had me worried.”
He reached over and patted Tony’s hand. “No need, but thanks.”
They talked for another ten or fifteen minutes then Nicky said he had to go. “Some of us got a job to go to,” he said, and threw a few bills on the table. “My treat tonight, since you did the worrying.”
“All right, Nicky. Thanks. See you later.”
TONY WALKED OUT WITH me, had his car pulled up, then drove off. I got my car, drove a few blocks behind Tony, then turned left. After I turned, I stopped in the middle of the street and got out to see if anyone was following. When I was convinced no one was, I got back in and continued, constantly checking the rearview mirror and making a lot of unexpected turns to throw off any tails. Ordinarily I would go through much more elaborate procedures, but I had already wasted too much time. If Tito really was on to Gina, she might already be dead. I made a right turn, then two lefts in succession. I thought about trying calling her from a phone booth, but then said fuck it, and dialed the number, still in memory from the day I bought her the phone.
It rang about seven times. No answer. Panic set in. Did they have her already? I dialed again, heart racing. What the hell was wrong with me? I never got nervous or scared, and here I was like a kid in his first gang fight. The phone rang four times.
“C’mon, Gina.
” My leg jiggled as I waited. Finally she picked up.
“This is Kathleen.”
I recognized the calm, soothing voice, but with a hint of gravel in it. God, how I’d missed it. “Gina, it’s Nicky. Get out. Now.”
“Who is this?” The voice was still calm.
“Gina. Listen to me. It’s Nicky. They know where you are. You need to get out, now.”
“Oh my God, Nicky. How? Where? What do I do?”
I could almost see her biting her nails. See her frightened eyes. “Listen close. Calm down and listen.”
Tears almost came through the phone. “I should never have done this. I should—”
“Shut-up, Gina.” When she calmed down again, I went on. “Pack a small bag. Take any cash you have. Get your IDs and head to the airport.” There was silence. “Are you with me?”
“Yeah,” she said quietly.
“Good. Take cash. Go to the airport.”
She sounded as if she were going to cry again. “They’ll expect me at the airport.”
“Maybe, but here’s what you do—buy a ticket to Chicago, there are probably flights leaving every half an hour. Get one that leaves in five or six hours. Pay cash. Then go sit by some other gate. Do not take the flight to Chicago even if I don’t show up. Just sit there and wait for me. If I don’t show, get another flight to anywhere and when you land, turn yourself in.”
“But—”
“They won’t be able to get guns past security. You’ll be safe until I get to you.”
I heard a few sobs, then, “Hurry, Nicky. Please?”
“Stay calm. Now get going.”
My heart beat a little faster. I could only imagine what she felt like. I suspected I was being tailed, felt it, but I decided to go straight to the airport. I had no time to be careful. If I didn’t get there quick, she’d be dead.
TONY ANSWERED ON THE first ring. “Hello.”
“It’s me, boss. He took a flight to Indianapolis.”
“Okay, thanks. I’ll get somebody on it. Knowing Nicky, he probably had her go to the airport.”
Tony made a few calls then rode home in silence. He had that rotten feeling in his gut that Sister Thomas used to tell them all about, the one that always told you when you were doing wrong.
‘God put that feeling into each and every one of us, and it is infallible.’
Tony hated himself, but what choice did he have. Sooner or later Nicky would find out what he’d done—and when he did… Tony shook his head, wiped his eyes with his sleeve. He prayed his mother couldn’t see what he was doing from her perch in heaven.
Forgive me if you can, Mamma. Please?
CHAPTER 52
WHERE TO NOW?
18 Months Ago
I was third off the plane, and immediately went to the flight status list for departures, checking the gates for Chicago. As I headed in that direction, I called Gina’s phone. She answered on the first ring, whispering.
“Nicky?”
“You shouldn’t be answering that way.”
“Sorry. I’m so scared.”
“Walk calmly from wherever you are and go to the main ticketing area for United.”
“I’ll have to leave security.”
“I know. I’ll meet you there. Walk slow, but steady. If anyone bothers you, scream.”
I hurried to the ticketing area and stood just outside the exit, close to United’s counters. I watched as she exited, checking to make sure no one followed, then walked up behind her and grabbed her arm, risking a slight cry.
She gasped, but not bad. “Just me,” I said. “You did good.”
She threw her arms around me. “Thank God you’re here. I was so scared.”
I breathed her scent in heavily before I pulled back, afraid to continue holding her. I hadn’t realized attraction was this strong, or maybe it was just so long since I’d held any girl. God help me, I thought as I stared at her.
“Stay scared. This is far from over. We have to get out of here.”
“I feel safe now. They wouldn’t—”
I grabbed her by the shoulders, shook her. “Listen. We’re not safe. We’ll never be safe.” I lowered my voice to a whisper. “This is the mob, Gina. Our only hope is to stay hidden.”
She composed herself. “Where are we going?”
I grabbed her arm and headed for the exit. “We’re going to do what they least expect—get a rental car and drive somewhere.”
“Where?”
“Cincinnati, at least for now.”
“Chicago’s a lot bigger.”
“No. Tito’s got lots of friends in Chicago. Got some in Cincinnati, too, but not as many. Besides, we can be there in less than two hours, and I need someplace to sleep.”
We took a cab to long-term parking, rode back on the bus, then took another bus to the National rental car facility. After that we hopped on Interstate 74 and had a straight shot to Cincinnati. Once we got going, I pressed her about where to live. She was tense and didn’t respond well to pressure.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I can’t think about it now.”
“You need to think. There are a lot of places we can’t go. Obviously not New York. And not Philly, Boston, Baltimore or DC. Chicago is definitely out. Same for Pittsburgh, St. Louis, Kansas City, San Francisco, Florida—”
“Is there any place we can go that’s decent?”
“That leaves plenty of choices. “Denver, Houston, Phoenix, San Diego, Dallas, Seattle, Minneapolis, Portland…”
“This is bullshit. I can’t live in Minnesota.”
She was pissing me off, but I tried to be nice. “Me neither. Too damn cold. And too wet in Seattle or Portland.”
“And too hot in Phoenix or Houston or Dallas.” She sighed. “How about Cleveland?”
I shook my head. “That’s on the no-go list.”
“You didn’t say Cleveland.”
I slapped the steering wheel and turned to her. “If you’d let me finish, I would have gotten to Cleveland…and New Orleans, and Buffalo. And I think you know why. Don’t pretend you’re innocent.”
Her lip curled into a sneer. “You think you’re a clever fuck, don’t you?”
“I think you’ve got a filthy mouth.”
“You’re a prick, Nicky. I can’t stand you.” She sobbed a little, then drew her knees up on the seat and wrapped her hands around them. “I wish you had killed me back in Hershey.”
She shut up then, and nothing I did could get a word out of her. For the next hour and a half, I cursed myself. She was scared to death, and I’d treated her like shit.
“Gina, I’m sorry. Really.”
She leaned her head against the window. Never moved. Never spoke. I thought I saw the light from oncoming traffic reflect off a tear on her cheek. That did me in. I hated seeing a woman cry. I stepped on the gas. The sooner we got to Cincinnati, the better.
You’re a dumb fuck, Nicky. A stupid, dumb fuck.
AFTER PARKING IN THE long-term lot, we rode to the airport and took a shuttle to a Marriott hotel. I got a room with two queen-sized beds and asked for a six AM wake up call. Fifteen minutes after checking in, I was deep into a shower, which felt great even though I had to wear the same clothes when I got out. I dried, slipped on my shorts, and went into the room. “Your turn.”
She closed the bathroom door behind her. While she showered, I thought of all the reasons why we shouldn’t go to Cleveland, but the one huge advantage was that she wanted to go, and I needed to do something for her.
It took her less than ten minutes to shower. She returned with a towel wrapped around her head, wearing only her panties and a T-shirt. She poured herself a glass of water then plopped on the other bed. I glanced over, felt myself stiffen. As Bugs would say, ‘this was one sexy broad.’
I let silence fill the air until I could stand it no longer. “Gina, I’m sorry about today. I didn’t mean to be snappy with you.”
She opened the nightstand drawer and pulled out the note
pad, started writing.
“What’s on the list?” I asked.
“Things I need to get.”
“Like what?”
She stopped writing and glared. “Clothes. Toothbrush. Make-up. Those kinds of things, okay.”
After being without women for so long, it was easy to forget how difficult they could be. I stared at her legs, got that feeling again.
Or how nice.
“Gina, what can I do to convince you that I’m sorry? I truly am.”
“Bullshit.”
I sat for five more minutes in silence, her writing all the time. What the hell is on that list? After another few minutes, I stood and knelt beside her bed. “I know it’s tough for you. Your life’s been torn apart, and you’re scared. But I’m with you. I’m scared too.”
She put the pen down and looked me in the eyes. “Why are you scared? You’re a—”
I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter what I am. They’ll be coming for me. And they won’t stop until they find me. Trust me, Gina. I’m scared.”
She held my gaze for a long time. “Why didn’t you kill me back in Hershey?”
I almost told her a lie, but who knew how long I’d be with her. I didn’t want to start out that way. “I came close, but at the last minute you did something that reminded me of a girl I once loved.”
She stopped writing and stared. Then she leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “That’s sweet, Nicky. You must have a lot of good in you.”
I shook my head. “I’ve been trying to find it again, but I think it’s buried too deep.” I stood and headed for the bathroom.
“Bring me that lotion when you come back. Please?”
I handed her the lotion as I sat on the bed. She opened the bottle and began rubbing her feet.
“Want me to do that? I give good foot massages.” I laughed. “At least twelve or thirteen years ago I did.”
Gina smiled. She had a slightly crooked smile, but it went well with the bump on the bridge of her nose. She tossed the bottle of lotion to me. “Do your best, Mr. Fusco, but be warned, I’m a taskmaster when it comes to foot massages.”
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