“Not yet, he’s not. But you know how some of these cops are, Alfredo. They know you and Caruso didn’t exactly see eye to eye. A lot of heat’s been on you guys from all over the force, especially with my old buddies in Narcotics. Anyway, the kid’s name is Tony Fregosi. Young kid from the South Side. Doesn’t seem like the guy that you would send after someone like Ross Caruso, especially with these thugs that he hired.”
Alfredo had feared that Tony was at the scene. Had he been the one to fire the bullet that killed Caruso? If he had and was able to get out of this, Alfredo would take note to give him a more meaningful job.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re saying these guys are gonna be the ones asking the kid questions when he comes to at the hospital?”
“You’re damned right. And they’re going to go at him hard. They’re probably gonna come up to Evanston and ask you questions too.”
Alfredo fumed at the mention of being questioned. He’d been very careful to ensure he and his top people weren’t connected to the killings of Caruso or his men. It was the primary reason, other than his top hit man’s usually swift and calculated killings, that he’d assigned Cal to execute the Caruso hit.
“I’m not involved in this garbage in any way, shape, or form. I don’t even know this Fregosi character. I don’t know what the hell I got to do to get your cops off my back, but they have no reason to show up here while I’m enjoying a relaxing Sunday afternoon with my wife.”
Alfredo’s voice had risen to Lewis Black–like shouting levels. Susan looked at her husband disapprovingly, causing Alfredo to reconsider his next words.
“Alfredo, I want to help you,” Blutarski said. “Superintendent Walker’s thumbprint is all over this case. You know how close he was with the mayor. Whatever vendetta they had against you, he was in charge just as much as Caruso. He saw this Fregosi kid taken to the hospital and swore he saw him at City Hall a while back coming out of the mayor’s office. He says two of the mayor’s guys were killed right after that. Someone’s gonna have to answer for those murders, and my money is they’re gonna think it was one of your guys.”
Inside, Alfredo was raging. He prepared to yell at Blutarski again but thought better of it. The front door opened and closed with a loud bang. Alfredo ran with the phone in his hand toward the foyer to see a perspiring Vinnie rush into the house.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
Alfredo waved his son away, toward the living room. He had no answers on who had killed Caruso, but he needed to get to Tony before Superintendent Walker or any cop with malicious intentions against the mafia interrogated him. The boy wasn’t well versed in the laws of omertà, and his youth would be used against him when the police threatened him with a life sentence. Alfredo was beginning to regret involving the boy in the whole affair.
“Alright, keep tabs on it. Try to interrogate the kid yourself or get someone you trust with the lives of your children to do it. When do you think he’ll be out of the hospital?”
“Tough to say. Kid’s back was shot pretty bad. He was unconscious when they first picked him up and he’s lost a lot of blood. I’ll try to make sure no one with sticky fingers gets down there before we take him in for questioning. We have nothing to charge him with anyway, since we don’t know facts. He could’ve been shot by the mayor’s thugs and not fired a weapon at all.”
“Yeah, alright. Look, I have some business to take care of, but you promise you’ll call me when you find something out?”
“Sure thing, Mr. Petrocelli. You’ve been good to me my whole career. But if I were you, I’d make sure you have a good lawyer for this kid in case things go south. Maybe two of ’em, if you know what I mean.”
Alfredo responded in the affirmative and bid goodbye to Captain Blutarski. Susan fetched a towel from the kitchen and was using it to wipe Vinnie’s sweaty forehead. Even though Vinnie was almost thirty years old, Susan had a habit of babying her son. It made Alfredo sick, especially given Vinnie’s rank within the family business.
Susan saw that Alfredo had hung up the phone. She removed the cloth from Vinnie’s face and her expression of concern for her son was replaced with a stern look for her husband.
“Who was that?”
“No one important. Some cops have this harebrained idea that because Mayor Caruso was murdered this afternoon, I’m behind it.”
Susan’s mouth formed into an O and her hand made its way to her cheek in surprise. Alfredo shifted his gaze to his son. Vinnie flinched slightly at the hardness of the look.
“That’s ridiculous,” Susan said. “Why the hell would you want something like that? Mayors can be very useful in your line of work.”
Alfredo ignored her and asked Vinnie to follow him into the study. He had a lot of questions for his son. He hoped that he somehow hadn’t gotten involved in Caruso’s murder. Once he entered the study, another call came in. It was Blutarski again.
“Mr. Petrocelli, I’m sorry for calling again so soon, but I forgot to mention something else that you might need to know when you’re thinking about how to make this look clean.”
Alfredo was even more annoyed now. He couldn’t even celebrate Caruso’s death given the mess surrounding it.
“What the hell is that?”
“They found another body. A couple blocks from the crime scene. Big fat guy. I don’t have to tell you who it is, do I?”
Alfredo’s heart jumped. He rarely felt emotion for any of his associates, even those he’d known for years. But he’d never worked with anyone as pleasant as Frankie Ramone. They’d grown up in the business together, and Alfredo had figured they’d grow old and powerful alongside each other. He was devastated at the news.
“Yeah, I got it. I want to call his wife. Has anyone contacted her yet?”
“Not that I know of. I’ll be in touch soon.”
Alfredo hung up and turned toward his son.
“Sit down, drink up. We need to talk.”
32
Vinnie’s voice quivered. The look in his father’s eyes was as sharp as a jagged edge of stone. Caruso was dead. Such news should’ve been cause for a joyous celebration. But Vinnie knew something was off.
Instead of his usual vodka soda, Vinnie helped himself to a glass of his father’s favorite brandy. Alfredo had polished off one glass and started on another before he finally spoke.
“I took some interesting phone calls. Just when it seemed all of our problems were solved, we’ve got more shit to deal with.”
The boss’s voice rose with each word. When Vinnie didn’t react to his father’s sudden burst of hostility, Alfredo picked up his drink, shot it down his throat, and threw the glass into the open fireplace, breaking it into pieces.
“You listen to me, you son of a bitch. I want you to explain everything. You left this house in a rush, and I knew you were pissed off. I sent Frankie out to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid, and what do you know? A cop on our payroll calls telling me Caruso is finally knocked off and says poor Frankie is dead. You want to explain that one?”
Alfredo rose out of his chair and stared at Vinnie like a priest gazing disdainfully upon his sinful congregation. His knuckles turned ghostly white as the blood rushed down to his fingers, which formed tightly into fists on top of the desk. The scare tactics may have worked on others, but Vinnie had seen them too many times to take them seriously.
“I don’t know anything about Frankie. I never saw him.”
“You never saw him?” Alfredo leaned forward on his knuckles, spit flying from his lips and landing on Vinnie’s forehead as he moved in closer.
“No, I didn’t,” Vinnie lied. He had to find a way to divert his father’s attention back to Caruso’s death. That was the real triumph and Vinnie planned to be rewarded with his father’s favor once he took credit for the mayor’s downfall.
Alfredo removed his fists from the desk and studied them, as if expecting damage.
“Alright, what happened? Where’d you go after you left the house?”<
br />
“I went to my apartment. I needed to cool off for a while. Frankie called me and asked where I was. When I told him I was at my place, he told me to meet him on Polk Street for a drink. He wasn’t at the bar but I did see Caruso there. I was armed, and I figured it was a risk, but he didn’t know what I looked like thanks to this disguise I had on. I shut the bathroom down and figured he’d drink enough that he’d have to take a piss eventually. When he refused to wait in line for the women’s, I waited out back, knowing he would take a piss outside. I was ready and waiting for him.”
Alfredo wrinkled his nose and his eyebrows squeezed closer together in a sign of confusion. “Wait a minute. You’re telling me it’s a mere coincidence that Frankie picked the same bar that the mayor was at? You didn’t happen to find the mayor and follow him down there?”
Vinnie started to think he wouldn’t be able to outsmart his father. Lying had never been his strong suit. He blamed his mother for bringing him up as a strict Catholic boy and not letting him spend enough time with his tough father early on in life.
“You want to talk about Frankie first? I can tell you’re upset that he’s gone. I’m not too happy to hear about it either.”
Alfredo sat back down at the mention of the former capo. He grabbed a fresh glass from the bar cart, poured some brandy in the glass, and slowly poured it out onto the wood floor beneath his feet. Vinnie followed suit with his own glass of shitty brandy. It was a subtle gesture to memorialize their fallen comrade.
“Frankie meant a lot to me,” Alfredo mused. Vinnie could tell his father was doing his best to hold back the tears that were clouding his eyes. “We grew up in this business together. He was a family cook back in the day when I was still going to school and living at home with my own pops. But my old man saw a lot of potential in Frankie. We were the ones that roughed people up when they wouldn’t pay protection money or wouldn’t settle their debts. We fought and killed many men together. Soldiers in the trenches of war, we were.”
Alfredo wiped a tear from his eye and looked at the ceiling. Vinnie was surprised his father didn’t pour another drink. Vinnie had heard the stories several times growing up but didn’t mind hearing them again. If he could get his father to calm down a bit, perhaps he would be less upset if Vinnie admitted to killing his longtime friend.
“Frankie was indeed a great man,” Vinnie found himself saying. “He was always someone we could trust. He did good work for us. It’ll be awfully tough to replace him, especially with the way the police are cracking down on our drug operations on the South Side. Frankie could strong-arm a lot of guys down there.”
Alfredo nodded and paused for a moment before peering into Vinnie’s eyes. “What made you kill him?”
Alfredo placed his arms on the table and folded them. Vinnie was shocked at his father’s assertion. He had to keep the lie going.
“Like I said, I never saw Frankie. If I had, I would’ve told him that any business I was prepared to conduct was my own, with no disrespect to you, of course.”
Vinnie glanced at his father for a sign of approval. Seeing none, he continued.
“Back at the alley, I was waiting outside for the bastard Caruso to come out. Eventually he did, but that’s when I saw I had company. Someone else was there to kill Caruso.”
He could see Alfredo thinking along with a squinting expression on his face. It would be tough to crack the wise mob boss with a false story.
“Who got him? You or this ‘someone else’?”
Vinnie didn’t laugh, though he felt like it. “We originally sent Cal on this mission, but he’s been very flaky lately. Did it cross your mind that your golden boy killer could be involved?”
Alfredo snarled but did not shout at his son. “We’ll talk about Callahan later. Besides, this was too big of a mess for the kill to be Cal’s, even if he’s been acting odd lately and wants out. I think he might know what’s coming.”
Vinnie sat taller in his seat and uncrossed his legs. “What are you getting at?”
“Never mind what I’m getting at. I want you to tell me what happened. I’ve already heard everything from the cop. Caruso and two of his goons are dead. Two other John Does were killed too. If you were in the alley and someone else was there, surely they weren’t after you too?”
“Alright, Dad, you’ve got me.” It was time to end the charade. He didn’t care if Alfredo was angry about how the kill unfolded. The point was that Vinnie had taken out the greatest threat to the Chicago mafia’s power. Shouldn’t he be commended for that?
“I had some help, but I was the one who killed Caruso. I’m not some useless figurehead who only takes and gives orders. I can solve big problems. Big fucking problems. Meeting with the Commission tomorrow night will be smoother than a baby’s bottom.
“The ‘someone else,’ that little shit Tony, came rushing in and nearly shit his pants when he had to fire his gun once the mayor’s men came out. We were able to get rid of them and then I hightailed it straight here. I figured you’d hear about it before then, but I wanted to see your reaction. I wanted to see if you were proud of me.”
The small child inside of Vinnie gave him a high-five for finally asking for appreciation from his father. Alfredo took another drink of brandy and settled his arms in his lap. Vinnie could see he was finally starting to relax.
“You’re right, son, I should be prouder of you than I have been. That fucker Caruso is gone and we get to build our empire to new heights. You can bet your ass you’re going to have a big future in that. But let’s cut the bullshit. Blutarski, the cop I’ve been talking to, says Chicago PD is gonna come out here and ask questions, so we don’t have much time to get our story straight. I already know that you killed Frankie. I’m not happy about it, but you did what you had to do. You’re the underboss, and if you felt Frankie was overstepping his bounds by reining you in, I’ll support it.”
Vinnie breathed a loud sigh of relief. He was surprised that his father had been able to admit his admiration. He couldn’t even enjoy the moment since it was so unexpected of him. He took a deep breath and then it was back to business with his father, like a loyal employee helping their boss figure out how to increase the profits after a rough quarter.
“Alright, here’s the real story. I killed Frankie. Tony was back there behind the alley and we both had Caruso at gunpoint. The two John Does were walking out, and I shot both of them. They were dead in the doorway and that’s what started the commotion. I went to shoot Caruso, but my damn gun jammed. That’s when he tried to run away and Tony shot him. It seemed like two other guys were trying to move the John Does out of the way to come out and take care of business.
“My gun was in bad shape. I hightailed it out of there and came straight here. Kind of a cowardly move looking back on it, but that was the only way I was getting out of there alive. There’d be no guarantee that kid could have shot those two guys.”
“Jesus,” Alfredo said. His voice was loud once again. “When ballistics see the bullets that killed the John Does and the one that killed Caruso, they’ll see completely different guns. Then there’s those two guys you were talking about. Blutarski said they were dead too, didn’t say how. Sounds like there may be a third gun involved here. Where’s your gun?”
Vinnie patted at his hip. His gun rested in a holster clipped on his belt.
“Get rid of it,” Alfredo ordered. “I don’t care if it’s untraceable or not, chuck it somewhere before the police get here. Go back to your apartment. Tell your mother you were stopping by to help me with something on my computer, I don’t know.”
“What about you? You’re going to talk to the police all by yourself?”
“If I have to. Melissa will be here, she’ll get one of my lawyers over. Besides, the police probably aren’t going to talk to me until they can talk to Tony, if he makes it out of the hospital.”
Vinnie stood, prepared to leave. “They’ve got the kid? We’re going to have to take care of him, aren’t we? He co
uld talk.”
“If he knows what’s good for him, he won’t. He’s got a good relationship with Cal, maybe he can talk some sense into him. If there was a third person on the scene, my money is on Cal. If you hadn’t admitted to killing Frankie earlier, I might have pegged him for it.”
“What a shame,” Vinnie joked. He wondered how his father had known that he’d killed Frankie. Maybe he hadn’t known after all. “I’m assuming you’ll want to talk to Cal, maybe have him take care of the boy?”
Alfredo nodded. “I know Tony’s his driver, but Cal’s made tough kills for us before, including the one that nearly got us all killed. Thankfully we don’t have to worry about Caruso anymore, but we do have to keep the police at bay and take care of this kid. Then there’s only one other person who could possibly speak out against us to the Commission and damage our interests.”
Vinnie nodded in acknowledgment. Now that one tough kill was in the books, he knew there would have to be another. He walked toward the door and brushed the thought from his mind.
“You think Cal will go for it? Killing the kid if that’s what it takes to make sure he doesn’t talk?”
“Absolutely. In the words of the immortal Marlon Brando, ‘I’m gonna make him an offer he can’t refuse.’”
33
From the moment Maria walked through Cal’s apartment door, the evening’s mood had been nothing short of sensual. Maria’s arms immediately found themselves around Cal’s waist. Any words they had for each other were stilted by the movement of their intertwining tongues, slipping their bodies into a euphoric state of passion.
Arms and hands joined the movement of their tongues as Cal caressed every inch of Maria’s body through her clothing. He only stopped when Maria backed away and removed her T-shirt. The way she hung the gray garment from her shoulder and pouted as she walked into Cal’s bedroom had him instantly turned on.
They made love for over an hour. It was the best kind of makeup sex imaginable and put Cal’s mind into such a soothing state, he forgot about killing Caruso’s goons earlier in the day. He forgot about Tony fighting for his life in the hospital, or Fonzie lying injured at Doc Parker’s house. He didn’t even notice the large cut he’d suffered across his chest when he escaped the parking garage.
One Last Kill Page 15
