1 Murder Takes Time

by Giacomo Giammatteo

  “Not that kind of back-up. I need two cars. These assholes only got one car to cover the street.”

  “It’s a one-way street.”

  “Lou, get me a couple of cars.”

  “I’ll see what I can do. Might be off-duty guys. You cover overtime?”

  “I’ll get it. Have them call my cell.”

  “Got it.”

  I WAITED FOR PAULIE’S family to leave then walked up to his door and knocked. When he saw it was me, he froze.

  “Nicky.”

  “You going to invite me in, Suit?” I had a gun in my hand, not pointed at him, but tucked against my stomach.

  “Come on in.” He stepped back as he said it, his eyes on the gun.

  “I saw your family leave, or I wouldn’t have come.”

  “Yeah, I appreciate that, Nicky. You want coffee?”

  “I could use some.” I followed him to the kitchen, checking each shadow as we went.

  “There’s nobody here,” Suit said, watching me.

  “Be a lot of blood if there is.”

  Paulie nodded. “I know. You want something to eat, or just coffee?”

  “Just coffee.” I laid the gun on the table within easy reach. “You hear what they did, Paulie?”

  He didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “If you mean about Gina? Yeah, I heard. I’m sorry. Really. I didn’t know her, but I know she meant something to you.”

  “You have anything to do with it?”

  “No way.”

  “When we’re done, I want you to call Tony.”

  Paulie shook his head. “Can’t do it, Little Nicky. You know I can’t.”

  I reached for the gun and gripped it firmly. “So you can’t betray Tony, but you could me. Is that it?”

  “Like hell. I don’t know what went on here, but if Tony did something, it must have been because Tito had him in a tight spot.”

  I grabbed the gun, jumped up and shoved it against Paulie’s head. “A tight spot? That was my wife.”

  Paulie looked scared. “Shit, Nicky. I didn’t know. All I know is Tito had a contract on Gina. There was nothing Tony could do.”

  That pissed me off. I took my finger off the trigger, not wanting to make a mistake. “Paulie, I want to keep you alive, but if you don’t call Tony, I will kill you.”

  He nodded, but when he did, his eyes looked sad. “I know, Nicky, and Christ’s sake, I don’t want to die. I got kids. I got a boy who reminds me of Bugs when he was little, and another that sure as shit is the Mick reincarnated…but I won’t hand you Tony on a platter.”

  Now I really wanted to squeeze the trigger. Even tried to, but couldn’t do it. “All right. As long as I find out you didn’t have anything to do with it, I won’t kill you. But you keep quiet.”

  Paulie was shaking. I’d never seen him scared like this before. “Can’t do that, either. I’d do the same for you. I hope you know it.” His eyes teared. “I swear, Little Nicky, I never wanted this. Neither did Tony. He just fucked up. Got himself in a jam.”

  “‘Got himself in a jam.’” I shoved the gun against his head again. “What do you call getting your wife killed? Tony killed her.” I smacked him in the head with the gun, drawing blood. Paulie fell, bringing his hand up to his temple. He reached for a towel to stop the bleeding.

  “Christ’s sake. Don’t kill me, Nicky. I don’t mind for me, but my kids…” Paulie blessed himself, and tears welled in his eyes. “I’m sorry about what happened. I know how much you’ve lost already. Your mom, your pops…I don’t know anybody who’s lost more than you…but I swear on my mother’s eyes, we didn’t plan on hurting you. Ever.”

  I thought for probably ten seconds, and our entire childhood passed before my eyes. Images of us smoking, stealing cigarettes, fighting, laughing. It came together in the center of my mind, forcing me to lower the gun. “I don’t know why, Paulie. Maybe it’s because of what we had, but I can’t do it.”

  He grabbed me and kissed my cheek. “I swear. Tony didn’t mean this.”

  The mention of Tony’s name fused my spine with steel. “Call him or give me the phone.”

  He handed me his. “Number’s on there.”

  I punched the contact and waited while the phone rang. He picked up on the third ring. “Suit, where are you?”

  I heard the voice, and though it hadn’t been that long, it seemed like twenty years since the last time I’d heard it. “It’s me,” I said.

  A very long silence, then. “That you, Rat?” His voice was weak, pleading.

  “I’m here with Paulie.”

  “Is he okay?”

  “Why would you care? Or is it just some of us you care about? Did you forget the oath? I didn’t.”

  “Hey, fuck you and your stupid oaths. That was thirty years ago or something. Grow up.”

  “Wrong answer.”

  “Yeah, well, don’t come around here, or I’ll get you the right answer.”

  I didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Did Paulie have anything to do with it? I need to know.”

  “Is he there? Is he hurt?”

  I looked at Paulie. “Say something.”

  “I’m okay, but he’s serious.”

  “You get all that, Tony?”

  “Fuck you again, Rat. What do you want?”

  “Did Suit have anything to do with it?”

  “Nothing.”

  I sighed and hoped he didn’t hear it. “I’m coming for you.”

  “Yeah, I know. But don’t think I’m going down like Donnie or Muck.”

  “We’ll see.”

  I hung up the phone, wiped it off on the towel Paulie had, then handed it back to him. “You’re off the hook.”

  He looked at me, sweat covering his face. “Can’t you let Tony off? For old times?”

  “Can’t, Paulie. And you ought to get out of here. They got FBI all over the place. You’re all going down.”

  He took the towel back, dabbing his head. “I’ve been thinking that anyway. Thanks.”

  As I left, I turned to him. “Tell the kids good stories about me, will you, Suit? I wouldn’t want them knowing the bad stuff.”

  “I will.”

  “And, Suit, leave the door unlocked when you leave. I might need the house for a few days.”

  “You got it.” He walked over to me, gave me a big hug, then left.

  I KNEW PAULIE WOULD call Tony to reinforce the fact that I was coming for him, so I headed for Cataldi’s. It was only a matter of time before Tony showed up there on any given day. I found a good spot to watch from and relaxed, listening to music while I waited. It took about two hours, but he came, although he was back out again in less than twenty minutes. I followed at a safe distance, making sure he didn’t pick up on it. Tony was an arrogant shit—didn’t even check for tails.

  Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into a parking garage. I didn’t follow right away, but waited for another car go in then made the turn into the parking garage and headed up the ramp. On the fourth floor, just as the car in front of me pulled into a parking space, I saw Tony getting on the elevator. I parked two levels up then took care to clean everything in the car and brush it out real good. Afterward, I took the elevator to the floor where Tony parked and found a nice spot to wait—inside an unlocked car about thirty feet away.

  The wait felt like days, but it was only about an hour and a half before he came out. I lowered myself into the seat, allowing him to pass, then slowly got up. I’d left the door ajar and made sure the overhead light wasn’t on. Now I waited until he bent to open his door, then eased out of the car and moved up behind him, gun in hand.

  “Get in. Don’t try anything.”

  FRANKIE GOT TO THE surveillance apartment in half an hour. He was tired and eager for the day to be over with. “What have we got, Harding?”

  “We have a wire in Tito’s house.”

  “In the house? How?”

  “Got a court order. We had the wire put in after he left this morning.”<
br />
  “He didn’t leave any of his men there?”

  “The past few days, he’s taken everyone with him.”

  “Don’t blame him; he’s scared.” Frankie looked out the window, then asked the guy at the scope. “Any sign of Nicky?”

  “We still don’t know if the perp is really him, Detective. We’re taking your word for it at this juncture, but we have no positive identification on the man.”

  “You can take my word,” he said, then, “What about Tony? Is he wired?”

  “They did it this morning.”

  “Where is he?”

  “He is probably on his way to that restaurant you people eat at all the time.”

  For the next half hour they took turns watching and listening, and arguing about damn near anything. As Frankie finished one of his shifts, he handed the headset to a young agent who had been in the morning’s presentation. “Be back in a few. Going to catch a smoke.”

  Before he hit the door, Agent Cross called him. “Detective Donovan, we’re live.”

  “What?”

  “Live, sir. We’ve got action.”

  Frankie looked at Harding, who took the headset from the guy at the window and stared at Tito’s house. “Nobody in the kitchen.”

  Cross turned. “Not him, sir. Mr. Sannullo.”

  “Give me that,” Frankie said and grabbed the headset from Cross. As he put it on, he heard Tony’s voice.

  “Nicky, what are you doing here?”

  Frankie yelled. “He’s got Tony! Get some bodies over there…shit, where is he? Can we tell?”

  Cross looked at the screen. “Looks like…forty-third and…hang on…”

  “Tell Harding,” Frankie said and headed for the door. “And get some people on it, now.” As he ran out the door, he called back. “Harding, call me on my cell when you get anything.” Frankie bounced down the steps, taking them two at a time, holding onto the rail. As much as he hated Tony right now, he didn’t want him suffering the kind of death Nicky probably had planned for him.

  Hang on, Tony. Hang on.

  CHAPTER 69

  JUDGMENT DAY

  Current Day

  “Nicky, get the fuck out of my car.”

  “Don’t say a word.” I drove out of the garage with the gun pointed at Tony, but covered with my coat.

  Despite what I told him, he started to talk as soon as we got on the street. “Why are you going this way? We—”

  I shoved the gun into his side. “Shut-up.” As soon as I had a chance, I pulled to the curb, reached over and undid his shirt. A wire. I ripped it off, tossed it out the window. “Any more?”

  Tony looked desperate and shook his head. “That was it.”

  “Can’t believe you stooped to wearing a wire.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.”

  When we got to Paulie’s house, I took Tony to the kitchen. Paulie’s blood stained the floor.

  “Sit,” I said. “And don’t try anything. I’m not going to torture you like I did the others. Maybe it’s Mamma Rosa. Maybe it’s the friendship we had. You should thank God for whatever it is.”

  Tony stared at me; he had a way of staring at people that pissed them off.

  “How do you want it?” I asked. While I waited for his answer, I struggled with my decision. Tony had been like a brother—hell, he was my brother, for all practical purposes. But he betrayed me. He was the reason Gina was dead. “Decide, Tony. I don’t have a lot of time.”

  He spat at me. “You pitiful fuck. You’ve lived your whole life in my shadow. Raised by my mother. Relied on me to get good grades. Got a job with my boss. Then, when a tough decision has to be made, you get your ass in an uproar and fall for the girl. Well fuck you, Rat. This is the real world, not like when you played make-believe with Angela.” He turned his head to one side, then looked back at me again. “And you know the saddest thing? You’re still in love with Angie. I see it in your face every time somebody mentions her name.”

  Shooting was too good for Tony; I was going to beat him to death. I laid the gun on the counter and went for him, punching his face again and again. He fell, grabbed my legs, pulled them out from under me. We crashed to the floor. Tony grabbed an ashtray from the table and pummeled me with it. I managed to cover my head, but my arm took a bad beating. I tried everything to move him off me, but couldn’t. Finally, I jammed my foot against the counter and, using all my weight, rolled him over. Then I jumped up and got the gun. “Don’t move.”

  My hands were shaking. Shit, I think my whole body was shaking. Everything in me wanted to blow his kneecaps off, or his balls—anything to make him suffer. But when I thought of it, Mamma Rosa came to mind. I saw her smile, heard her laughter, and remembered how she used to hum those old Italian songs. No matter what Tony had done, I couldn’t bring myself to kill him. I lowered the gun. “Tony, you’re—”

  As soon as I lowered my hand, he came at me. Instinct took over. I fired, hitting him in the gut.

  Tony went down, clutching his stomach. “Guess I’m going out the way I want, Rat. Had to make it easier for you. I knew you’d do it anyway.”

  I grabbed a towel and knelt next to him, putting pressure on it. “Hold this. I’ll get an ambulance.” As he applied pressure, I called 9-1-1 and reported it, then got on the floor with him.

  Tony pushed himself backwards, bracing his back against the wall. “Get out of here, Rat. Can’t let them find you.”

  I got another towel, tried to stop the bleeding. As much as I hated Tony, I couldn’t let him die alone. “I’m staying.”

  He shook his head. “Go. I’ll be okay.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  He gasped. “We had some good times together.”

  “Damn good times.” I held him. Wished more than anything else that I could take that shot back.

  “Nobody fucked with us, did they?”

  I shook my head. “Why, Tony?”

  “Too many things done wrong.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’d have killed me anyway.” He grabbed my shirt. “Bugs didn’t have anything to do with you in Cleveland. It was all me.” Tears formed in his eyes. “Sorry, Rat. You know I didn’t want it to go like this.”

  I wanted to believe him, but…

  “Can’t trust you after what you did. How am I to know Bugs didn’t do it? He was the only one who knew.”

  “I swear. He was just…trying to give me a heads-up in case something affected me.”

  That sounded right, but still. “I’ll know it when I look into Bugs’ eyes and hold a gun to his head.”

  He squeezed my shirt, pulling me closer. “Nicky, I swear on my mother’s eyes.”

  That stopped me cold. I got within inches of his face. “On Mamma Rosa’s eyes? You swear it?”

  Tony gulped and spit blood. “I swear. He didn’t know.”

  “You want a priest?”

  He laughed, coughing blood. “Even if I believed in that shit, I wouldn’t do it. I don’t want Mamma seeing me.” He cried then, hard. “Shame on me, Nicky, for what I’ve become.”

  Tears now flowed from my eyes too. I held him tight. “Shame on both of us, Tony.”

  I felt sure the ambulance would be there any minute, but I couldn’t leave. I stayed with Tony until he died, and I cried. A lot. After I closed his eyes, I blessed myself, repeated the words of the Trinitarian formula. “Mi dispiace, Mamma Rosa. I’m so sorry.”

  CHAPTER 70

  A NEW SHOPPING LIST

  Current Day

  The phone rang and Frankie reached for it—it was Mazzetti. “What’s up, Lou?”

  “Where are you?”

  “On my way back to the station. Why?” Something sounded funny in his voice. There was a long pause, so I pushed. “Lou?”

  “Tony Sannullo is dead.”

  It hit Frankie like a hammer to the head. “Where?”

  “Ambulance picked him up at Paulie Perlano’s house.
”

  “That doesn’t make sense.” I tried to figure that one out. Then, “Where are you, Lou?”

  “On my way.”

  “I’ll see you there.”

  Frankie drove in silence, thinking about all the good times. Wondering why it had to end this way. Jesus Christ, Nicky. What have you done?

  It seemed to take forever to get to Paulie’s, and the closer he got the more his gut wrenched. He didn’t want to see Tony like this. That brought another thing to mind.

  Where the hell is Paulie? Did Nicky kill him, too?

  Sick as it sounded, Frankie wanted nothing more than to wake up and find out some other sick fuck was doing all this killing. But then, he wanted to win the lottery, too.

  When Frankie arrived, Mazzetti was already waiting on the sidewalk in front of the house. “Any news on Paulie?” Frankie asked.

  “No sign of him or the family,” Lou said, “and I got people looking everywhere.”

  “Good.”

  “‘Good’? What the hell does that mean?”

  “If his family’s missing, it might mean Paulie took them somewhere. Nicky’s not killing his family.”

  “I don’t know if Nicky did this,” Lou said.

  Bugs perked up, hope still burning in him. “Tell me about it.”

  “Looks like there could have been a fight, and Sannullo was shot just once. Punctured the lung, though.” As they walked in together, Mazzetti continued. “No torture, and no shots to the head or heart.”

  “Then maybe it isn’t him,” Frankie said, and took the front steps two at a time.

  “There’s something else, Donovan.”

  Frankie paused and turned around. “What?”

  “This was called in from the house, like the shooter made the call.”

  Frankie took a step back. “If the shooter called it in, and Tony was still alive, it must have been an accident.”

  “That’s how I see it.”

  “Paulie,” Frankie said.

  “What?”

  “It must have been Paulie. Something happened. Maybe they fought and the gun went off.”

  Mazzetti raised his eyebrows. “Maybe so. Let’s go look.”