One Last Kill

by Spenser Warren

  Al raised his brows and slammed his fists on the table. He was acting in a manner that Alfredo Petrocelli would’ve been proud of. Spittle formed around the edges of Al’s mouth and his forehead was creased with the tremors of anger, like the earthquake that was Alfredo’s temperament.

  Cal knew the only way he could get what he wanted—Tony’s safety and his peaceful exit from the mafia—was to not let his own anger overcome him in the way it was overcoming Al.

  “What the hell makes you say that? Alfredo talked to the police on the scene. He relayed their message to me. They’re in a hell of a spot, Cal. It’s not every day that a potential murder suspect is brought in for questioning and then disappears. That doesn’t look good on any cop’s watch.”

  Cal sighed and leaned back in the booth. He was going to have to package his solution in a way that alleviated both Alfredo’s and Meransky’s concerns. That it was the best outcome for everyone.

  “My problem wasn’t dealing with the police. Blutarski seemed like a smart guy. I’m sure he can figure out a way to pin the blame on someone else. As long as that someone else isn’t Fonzie.”

  Cal paused and glared at Meransky. “Did he make it out?”

  “Oh yeah, as much as Blutarski wanted to kill you and that little shit for the mess you caused, they let Fonzie walk. Detective Thomas will be the fall guy. He’ll get an all-expenses-paid trip back home to West Texas, one way.

  “It doesn’t matter what Alfredo said anyway. What matters is what was done. Fregosi shouldn’t have walked out of there. You fucked up.”

  Cal felt a twinge of guilt at hearing what would happen to Detective Thomas.

  “I couldn’t kill a kid that young. He’s got big dreams, he’s very ambitious. He wanted to prove how valuable he could be by going after Caruso. But someone else was there, someone else made this a mess and killed the two guys in the doorway. I bet Blutarski can confirm that.”

  “Bullshit. Tony killed both of those men. Then he killed Caruso. The kid’s a murderer, and he would’ve had his ass owned by a good prosecutor. He would’ve given us all up had the police offered to cut him a deal. He should’ve died.”

  Cal shook his head and felt anger welling up inside him, rising to the top of his head. Meransky wasn’t getting it. How could he not see the lack of humanity in the decision Alfredo had made?

  “He was scared shitless, Al. You should’ve seen him. He’s not going to say a word to anyone because I got him the hell out of town. The police may look for him eventually, once ballistics shows for sure he killed Caruso, but it will be a wild-goose chase. He’ll be a fugitive on the run. It’ll take more work on our part to keep him hidden, but it’s been done for much worse guys.”

  Al shook his head and threw up his hands. He apparently wasn’t in a fighting mood, but his manner looked unconvinced, like he wasn’t going to have a nice time sharing the story with Alfredo.

  “Where is Tony exactly? Who’s he hiding out with?”

  Cal finished his drink and set the glass at the edge of the table. There wasn’t much more he could say. He’d made his case. It was Alfredo’s choice to live with it and determine if Cal’s case for leaving the mafia was a strong one.

  “Don’t worry about it, Al. A good attorney doesn’t make the case easier for his opponents. See you around.”

  40

  Alfredo sat at the desk in his study for the first time in weeks. Ever since the Caruso murder and Tony Fregosi’s disappearance, police had poured into the Evanston house with nonstop questions, forcing the mafia boss to hole up in his Gold Coast penthouse. His nerves were so shot, he couldn’t even summon the desire to pour himself a glass of brandy.

  “What’s next? I think we’ve managed to fend off the police. It seems like the first day we’ve had them out of our hair for a while now.”

  Alfredo cracked his knuckles and nodded at his son. There were so many things to straighten out. The business that they’d lost while under the mayor’s scrutiny, for one. It was important they got every segment of their operation up to full speed. Alfredo couldn’t be seen as weak in the eyes of the Commission, after convincing them everything was as right as rain.

  “You should meet with Frankie’s lieutenants down in the South Side, figure out how to get things up and running again. I’m sure Walker would love nothing more than to keep his guys glued to us, but they’ll have to give up that charade eventually.”

  Vinnie nodded and leaned forward in his seat. Alfredo thought of the other item that had been irking him for the last few weeks, having Tony Fregosi free to roam, able to tell anyone about the Caruso murder.

  “Another thing,” Alfredo said. “We’ve got to find the Fregosi boy. As much as we yelled at Cal for letting him go, I did tell him he had that option. I want you to find some other guys to round up and hunt him down. See if he has family around here that knows where he is. Get them to talk.”

  “Alright. Sounds like that will be a fun hunt. Anything else?”

  Alfredo raised his brow, wondering if his son was confused at just how important his original instructions were. The phone rang loudly on the desk, startling him.

  Alfredo picked it up and answered. “Hello?”

  “Alfredo, I’ve got a development on the case. You ready for it?”

  Alfredo hadn’t expected Blutarski to call. Right when he and Vinnie thought they were done hearing from the police, they had to listen to the crooked cop yap. He decided to put the cop on speaker. Vinnie needed to be in the loop on the investigation, especially since he had a chance of being implicated if things went south.

  “Shit. Are you sending more of your cronies to question my ass?” The boss’s voice was rising, ready to snap. “Well, I’ve got news for you, I—”

  “Relax,” Blutarski shouted. “We finally got some security footage from the building next door. It was a shame we couldn’t see in the alley, but we got a good shot of Clinton Street. We saw someone, a Middle Eastern woman, walking near the scene. She saw the whole thing. We’ve got it right in the photos.”

  “Jesus Christ, Blutarski. You’re saying you have a potential witness to one of the biggest crime scenes in the city’s history, and it’s taken you two weeks to find out about it?”

  Vinnie stared at Alfredo. The mob boss wondered if it was his son’s attempt to calm him down.

  “My apologies, sir. I only recently got access to these. Our investigation hadn’t considered a witness possibility until very recently.”

  Alfredo let out a loud sigh. “You’re absolutely sure she saw it? Did she see the murder or just randomly pass by?”

  “Dead sure, boss. She was there at the exact time our forensics team says Caruso’s murder took place. You want to know what else? She threw her hands up in the air when she was facing the alley. That bastard kid who got Caruso probably would’ve killed her had he not been shot at the scene.”

  “Jesus. Have you got any way of identifying this witness?”

  “Not yet, but I can get some guys to work on it. This will be public evidence to the investigation one way or another. I wanted to tell you before anyone else saw it.”

  “I appreciate that, Joe. Let me know as soon as you find out who this Middle Eastern woman might be. I’ll send my best to take care of her, I can promise you that.”

  Alfredo hung up and shook his head, his skin turning a deep shade of red. The stress of looking for and taking out a witness was the last thing he needed right now.

  “Looks like we have a new priority,” Vinnie said. “You said you’d send your best after this woman. Who did you have in mind?”

  Alfredo raised his brow at his son.

  “Don’t be getting any ideas. We saw what happened when you took matters into your own hands to go after Caruso. I’ll call in Al, tell him we’ve got a final job for Cal if he wants his freedom.”

  41

  On the morning of September 23, Cal woke up and found the space next to him empty. He was surprised to see the morning sunlight fig
ht through the blinds of his bedroom window. He yawned and managed to lift his body from the bed and stumble to the window, where his tired eyes squinted at the street below.

  Traffic was picking up, and multiple cars were exiting from their parking places along Hyde Park Boulevard. Everyone was heading out to work for the day, while Cal was able to take his time looking at the vehicles and beyond to Harold Washington Playlot Park, where he and Maria planned to enjoy a nice breakfast outdoors.

  In the two weeks since the Caruso murder and helping Tony escape from the clutches of the corrupt Captain Blutarski, Cal and Maria had been the happiest they’d been in their relationship. Without the daily grind of hunting down Alfredo’s next victim, Cal found himself spending nearly every day with Maria, listening to her discuss her psychology research and giving her a nonacademic point of view into her insights.

  They cooked together, with Maria finally teaching Cal her tamale recipe and Cal making some of his childhood favorites, including shepherd’s pie and his mother’s famous beef stew. Cal told Maria more about his past, and some of the brighter times he enjoyed in the Petrocelli household as a youth, including his high school football career. The sex was more passionate than ever. Things were really starting to shape up for both of them.

  Receiving the official go-ahead from Alfredo was something he pined for every day. Until he got the call, he’d contemplate his next steps. Much like at the family dinner he’d taken Maria to and the night at the hospital where he saw the woman and her newborn baby smile at him, Cal pictured the day where he and Maria would have children of their own. He would make sure they were loved and cared for and that they never felt an ounce of rage in their bodies that would turn them to killing like him.

  Maria’s thin arms wrapped around his waist and she kissed him with her moist lips. He wondered at how he was lucky enough to have a girlfriend like her.

  As much has he wanted to stay in her loving embrace and forget about the realities of life, he’d have to find a way to tell her the truth, that he was still on the mafia payroll.

  After struggling to convince Meransky that Tony’s mouth could be kept shut outside of the city and nearly getting into a physical argument with Alfredo after sharing the news, Cal managed to stifle their concerns while the news headlines were dominated by police incompetence and Mayor Caruso’s suspected involvement with organized crime.

  Cal knew that the police searches would come up empty. He hadn’t told Tony’s father a word about his son’s whereabouts and had urged the boy to consider leaving his old friend if he couldn’t be trusted to keep him safe. Eventually, the FBI would get involved to find Tony, but no action had been taken yet.

  Despite cleaning up the mess surrounding the Caruso murder, Alfredo hadn’t granted Cal’s wish to leave the mafia yet. The boss wanted to ensure they had a plan for Tony when he eventually returned to the city.

  “Are you ready for an epic breakfast of milkshakes that pretend to be coffee and overpriced egg and sausage muffins?”

  Maria’s voice sounded as sweet as her minty-flavored kiss. Cal realized his own breath was rather rank.

  “You bet I am. As a bonus, we should have the entire park to ourselves.”

  Hand in hand, they left the apartment and walked to the closest coffee shop. Cal ordered a large black coffee. He didn’t want to mess with any funky syrups or flavorings. He more than made up for the healthy coffee option by grabbing two giant blueberry muffins. Maria settled on a frozen coffee filled with an inordinate amount of sugar, syrups, and whipped cream, and an egg-and-sausage breakfast sandwich.

  Cal sipped the coffee and Maria slurped her coffee milkshake as they made their way to the park, appreciating the sights of the trees at the park’s outer edge. The formerly green leaves were slowly turning to various shades of red, gold, and brown as fall approached. A gentle breeze swayed the leaves to the cool hymns of the wind. A lone wet red leaf managed to blow into Maria’s hair, where it stayed for a moment before landing onto the sidewalk.

  They reached a paved path beyond the trees and walked for a while, talking. A few morning joggers ran past, most of them older and retired. Some of them had large dogs of different breeds and colors, obediently trotting alongside their masters. Cal wasn’t a huge fan of animals but would acquiesce to getting one if it would make Maria happy. He’d do anything to make her happy.

  After a lap around the park, they settled on a park bench, eating their chosen pastries. Cal knew this is where he would have to tell her that he hadn’t left the mafia as she believed. He started to speak, struggling to form the words he needed to share. At that moment, his phone rang with a call from Al Meransky.

  “I gotta take this. I’ll be right back.”

  Cal walked out into the green space, leaving Maria at the bench. He hoped the call wouldn’t take too long. He needed to get back to her and say what he needed to say before he wavered on his promise.

  “Cal, it’s Al.”

  “Yeah, Al, we’ve got these things called caller IDs now. I know it’s you.”

  “Don’t be such a smart-ass, Boyle. I’ve got another job for you. I know you’ll want to turn me down, but you’ve really got no choice on this one. The way we see it, this is the knot that ties up all of the loose ends in this Caruso case. As long as your boy Tony stays hidden, there’s nothing they can do that can prove any of us guilty, so you’re free as a spring chicken after this. Sound good?”

  Cal didn’t believe it. Not for a second. He didn’t like that he was dealing with Meransky and not Alfredo or Vinnie directly. They’d asked him to treat them as family, even in his discontent and desire to leave the mafia, yet they were worried about establishing any connection to Cal that they still had to go through channels like Meransky to communicate their messages.

  Dead Frankie Ramone would’ve been better to talk with than Meransky. Cal didn’t trust Meransky.

  “Alright.” Cal would play along for now, see what he had to say. “What’s the deal?”

  “We got a tip from our cop downtown. He told us that there was a witness walking down Clinton Street at the time of the Caruso murder and that she saw the whole thing. Some Middle Eastern girl. We’re pretty sure the kid would’ve shot her, too, if he had the chance.”

  If Tony was the only one in the alley as Vinnie had claimed, they wouldn’t care if the witness had seen anything since Tony was in hiding outside the city. There was a chance the witness hadn’t seen the Caruso murder at all but instead witnessed Vinnie killing the two guys in the doorway. That was their real concern, keeping the boss’s son protected.

  When Cal asked Meransky if his concern was because of someone else being in the alley, Al claimed ignorance.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. But it’s important to the boss that this girl be taken out. We want you to do it.”

  Meransky’s words didn’t even hit Cal hard. He knew what would be asked of him as soon as the word “witness” was mentioned. He didn’t want to do it, even if it was his last kill. That’s what Alfredo kept telling him. Caruso was supposed to have been his last kill, then Tony. Who else would they ask him to kill after this witness was taken care of?

  “Can you guarantee it’s over after this? No more hits, no more killings?”

  Meransky took a deep breath and sighed. “That’s my understanding. You’ll be able to speak with the boss in person very soon. He’s making a special trip out to the city today.”

  “I’m surprised Alfredo is actually taking an interest in me all of a sudden. Why wouldn’t he have you come down for that?”

  Cal knew Meransky wouldn’t chide him for speaking out of line. Being Alfredo’s adopted son gave Cal more privileges to speak his mind than other associates.

  “Go over to his place in the Gold Coast around two. We should have more details on the woman by then. We’ve got a guy working around the clock to find out who she is. Once we know her whereabouts, I want you on surveillance at all times. Find the best opportunity to
get her when she’s out alone, get the job done, and you’re a free man.”

  Cal nodded to himself and voiced his agreement. He wanted this to be the last time he’d have to talk to the North Side capo for a while.

  Cal walked back to the bench and sat down next to his love. Maria was shivering from the autumn-morning breeze and the cold beverage. Cal put his arm around her, moving it up and down to try to warm her up.

  “Who was that?”

  Cal looked up at the sky, wanting to enjoy the brightness and beauty of the day before he answered her question. He basked in the warmth that he felt on his face.

  “You cold?” Cal asked Maria.

  “A little bit. Who were you talking to?”

  There was no use in skirting around the issue anymore.

  “Al Meransky.”

  “Who’s he? Was he one of the men at dinner when we ate with Alfredo and Susan?”

  Cal nodded. He hoped Maria’s reaction would be one of understanding and not of fury. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw her jaw clench.

  “I thought you were done with all that, Cal. What’s going on?”

  Cal cleared his throat and took a sip of what was left of his coffee. The black liquid was cold and overly bitter. He threw his cup to the ground in disgust and heard a tsk sound from a nearby jogger displaying her frustrations about Cal’s littering. He glared at her before realizing the harshness of his reaction.

  “I am done with it, babe. But they need me to be available in case anything happens with them regarding the mayor.”

  “But you didn’t kill him, right? Why do you need to be involved?”