by Zoey Kane
Gia hobbled on her broken heel. The audience pointed and murmured. One camera turned to her as she did her best to quietly walk by a counter of stacked stainless-steel bowls. An unstable moment caused her to misstep to the left, knocking the bowls to the ground with a clatter. The audience breathed, “Ooohhh!” Everyone waited on pins and needles for the last bowl to come to the end of its circling din, which seemed endless... and then all was painfully quiet.
Gia took her place at the judging table like a trooper. If there was one thing a Rizzo didn’t do, it was give up. Especially when food was on the line. So she smiled at Belinda and Pierre, who didn’t reciprocate, and then smiled back at the audience good-naturedly.
Somebody in the back row audibly gasped. It was Jennie. She made all sort of motions across her forehead, trying to send a strange message. But what was it? Now was not the time for a game of Charades. Then it dawned on Gia. She had forgotten to remove the hideous unibrow. In her rush, it was something totally overlooked.
The audience laughed and tittered. Gia decided to keep the smile instead of crying. She said to the crowd, “Well, could it get any worse?”
A glass of water was before each judge. To calm nerves that were bouncing around like ping pong balls on the main deck, Gia hurried to gulp some down. Her over-eager efforts only made her choke. With a mouth full of water, it embarrassingly squirted out. Uproarious laughter ensued. The director of the competition was fish-eyed mortified, clasping both hands over his mouth.
Gia was certain her budding career with Forks and Knives had just come to a screeching halt.
But then the audience did something unexpected. They clapped for an extended amount of time. They think I’m doing this craziness on purpose! Gia realized.
Using a napkin, Gia dipped it in her remaining water and wiped her forehead clean. Owning her unintentional comedy skit, she announced, “Shall we begin the food competition now?”
Cheers went up. When it came time for her to describe each competitor’s platters, Gia was able to do so confidently. It came as natural to her as writing her blog Good Eatin’ for the Curvy Soul.
After it was over, and on the way out, Gia was met by a couple of Giovanni admirers. One of them had a big round nose. The other was tall and thin. "You were hilarious, Shortstack," the one with the interesting nose complimented. “What could have been boring was pretty entertaining.”
“Yeah, good job,” the thin man with curly hair added with a grin.
Gia knew that now was a most unusual opportunity. She had the vying attention of a couple Giovannis! Thinking fast, she greeted, “Why thank you, gentlemen. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” She reached out a hand.
“I’m Carl and this is Lenny,” the man with the round nose introduced.
Lenny eagerly shook her hand. “There aren’t many lady comedians that can make me laugh. For now, it’s just you and Rosie.”
“O’Donnell?” Gia nodded in interest.
“No, my mamma,” Lennie said seriously.
Laughing, Gia said, “Maybe our moms should be friends. Because mine can be such a wisecracker. Just ask her anything about me, and she could go on for days.”
“He was being sarcastic,” Carl explained. “He was meaning Ms. O’Donnell.”
“Oh, aha haha,” she forced a laugh. How am I supposed to interrogate them? she wondered, her mind spinning for inspiration. The thought came to turn the tables. Be bluntly admiring them for their “jobs.”
“So, gentlemen,” she said popping a hip and planting a hand on it, “you can tell me. You’re mobsters. Am I right? The pin-stripes on you, Carl, are perfectly vertical. And Lenny, you have the whole darkly mysterious thing going on. If I were to meet you in an alley, your shadow would stretch the whole length of cracked asphalt.”
The men chuckled and looked at each other in amusement.
“And the toothpicks. Those are a dead giveaway, guys. Carl, I assume you aren’t keeping those in your jacket pocket to conveniently taste test the show’s samples. You like to chew and twiddle them between your teeth while playing craps.”
Carl said to Lenny, “She’s good.”
Maybe I should consider being a comedian, Gia proudly thought.
“We’re Giovannis,” Lenny said with a crooked smile. “Make with it what you want.”
Am I going to pull a Jennie move? The devil on her shoulder replied, For the case, you would. And you will. Now! Gia batted her lashes. Forget the fact that she might still have traces of a unibrow. She knew she was cute with or without it. “Giovannis! Wow! I’ve definitely heard of you guys. I mean, who hasn’t?”
Carl tilted his chin at her with a smile. “Hey, listen, Shortstack. What are you doing after this?”
“Uh, I don’t… really… have plans.” She shrugged, excited but afraid for what would be asked next.
“I’ll tell you what. There’s an art show going on at 4:30 in The Captain’s Gallery. Meet me there and I can introduce you to the guys.”
“Oh, an art show?” She instantly thought of their plans to smuggle. “Sounds very high up and classy.” She smiled.
“That’s what we are. A gentleman’s gang. We keep it classy.”
10
At 4:30, Gia found herself basically alone in a sea of Giovannis who offered an aromatic blend of musks and cigar scents. The Captain's Gallery hosted a variety of paintings along well-lit walls, each displayed with a placard beneath the title, artist, and date of production. Men dressed in tuxedos with slick hair came around to fill champagne glasses. The sound of classical music drifted in the air.
A sophisticated blonde wearing a large-faced watch and pearl bracelet was looking over her notepad while making comments about a piece to an onlooker. It was a painting of a horse running through a meadow. With her wealth of knowledge, it became apparent that she was the curator.
Gia liked frames. They could be so expensive all by themselves. But as far as she was concerned, a frame could make a picture appear more noteworthy than it actually was. It was like how salt added to spaghetti sauce could make all the difference. Without it, it was plain, no matter how much oregano. With it, it was worth another helping.
She spotted one picture that stole her interest, however. It was a painting of a park in the summertime. A variety of dogs played in its grass. Even a couple of corgis like Petey. But there was a disappointing "sold" sign below it.
Gia stepped over to the curator to ask a question.
"May I help you?" the smooth woman asked.
"Yes," Gia said. "Is there any chance at all that I can get a hold of that painting of dogs in the park?"
"Sorry, not at all."
Gia nodded. What was she thinking? It was probably way out of her budget, anyway.
“Hey, Shortstack.” It was Carl. He came up to her with a warm handshake. “So here you are. I was wondering if you’d show up.”
“Yes.” She smiled. “What do you think of the show?”
“It’s good, you know.” He nonchalantly nodded, like it was any other typical day in his life.
“Do you think you’ll buy anything?”
"I usually do. Hey, let me introduce you to some of the guys." As they were heading to a group of sleek men, Gia tensed up. There was Jack The Dagger mingling amidst them. Will he recognize me without my hairnet and unibrow? Like being strapped into a rollercoaster, there was no turning back now.
“Boys, let me introduce you to Gia. I met her at the Forks and Knives food competition. She was one of the judges.”
The men shook hands. When she came to Jack's, she clammed up, and it was hard to make eye contact. Breaking past that most uncomfortable moment was worth it, though. He didn't seem suspicious in the least.
They were all perfect gentlemen, asking her questions about her supposed glamorous lifestyle as a food critic. For the moment, she decided to go with it. As she continued chatting, which came easier than expected, she thought she caught a glimpse of Tony’s dad, Mike Santino. She could
have sworn she saw him in the crowd, wearing his fisherman hat and phony mustache. But when her eyes diligently searched for a confirmation that what she had seen wasn’t her imagination, he was gone. What would he be doing here, anyway?
Gia resumed conversation. Somehow she was going to get to the topic of Rose Santino. Her mind was just drawing a blank as to how. But then her boyfriend entered the picture, and it was brought up all on its own, organically.
“Look who it is,” Lenny announced to the group. He tilted his chin in the direction of Tony, who was pretending to be interested in art. Gia knew he was simply doing his job of watching over her from afar. She smiled.
“Oh yeah, it’s Rose’s kid,” Carl said.
Carefully, Gia broached the subject. “I still remember the day she was murdered.” She paused. “Do you guys?” She looked into their faces that were somber like hers.
Of all people, Jack the Dagger responded. “She was a gem,” he said. “Mike will rot in Hell for what he did.”
“You’re sure he did it?” Gia dared to ask.
Jack looked at Gia with suspicion in his eyes. “Yes,” he simply said.
Carl stuffed his hands in his slacks. “Look, the wise guy has been trying to blame us for years. He told the police that one of us drove her home that night. We’re mobsters, not monsters. We all liked Rose. She didn’t deserve what happened.”
“I believe you,” Gia said, nodding. And she really did. The energy in the air was full of truth and conviction. “Who did drive her home that night?”
Jack The Dagger said, “Not me. Not to say I wouldn’t have, because she was a good girl. I just didn’t do it, and neither did the others.”
Carl agreed. “Slim isn’t on this cruise, but he could vouch for that. He set up a driver of his towncar to take her home, but Rose never showed up. She went home with someone else.”
“Who would that be? Who do you think?” Gia asked.
Everyone was silent while Gia noticed Jack The Dagger was apparently having a lightbulb moment. “Now that I think about it, it was probably the fatso who handled my watch in the bathroom at Slim’s bar, when I took it off at the sink.”
Lenny narrowed his eyes in thought. “You talkin’ ‘bout Bennie Junior?” Gia’s excitement grew as he continued. “Big Bennie Junior? The one who keeled over at Frank Fatelli’s funeral?”
Oh great. Just what Gia needed. A dead suspect!
"No, not him," Jack said, his eyes searing into Gia's, laser-intense now. "Who sent you?" he blurted. "Was it Sonny Switch?"
“What?” Carl said, looking at Gia then back to Jack. “Why would you say such a thing, Dagger? Gia’s a notable food critic. A celebrity guest.”
But the veins in Jack’s neck bulged angrily. “She’s with the Santino kid!” he shouted. “I saw them come together!”
Tony whirled around to see Jack The Dagger headed his way.
“They’re with Sonny Switch!” the mobster fumed. “They’re trying to dig up dirt to rat us out.” Worried murmurs filled the gallery and Tony knew he was inevitably in for a fight.
“Don’t hurt him!” Gia’s voice called out shrilly.
Fear lacing his spine, Tony got his fists ready. I’m going to die, he thought.
Jack drew a concealed knife from out of his suit jacket. The crowd gasped in horror. Tony gulped. People scattered and took off running, except for the mob and Gia, who kept their distance.
“I don’t want to fight!” Tony yelled at the man fast approaching.
“Too bad,” Jack said. “Because I do.” A glint of revenge was in his eyes.
Just in the nick of time, someone slid in between them, brandishing a switchblade.
“Dad?” Tony said in surprise.
“You wanna deal with Sonny Switch, tough guy?” he threatened Jack The Dagger. “Then deal with me.” With his free hand, Mike ripped the mustache off and tossed his hat.
“It’s him,” one of the gangsters said in astonishment. “Mike Santino.”
“I thought he was in The Big House,” another was heard saying. At that revelation, a few ran out the door because the legend of Sonny Switch was big time. Even bigger than their big bossman Slim’s reputation.
“C’mon,” Mike challenged, holding his knife confidently. “Come at me.”
Jack slashed forward, and Mike dodged the deadly move with ease. "I might be getting old," Mike said, "but I still got it. I'll be damned if you hurt the only thing I have left in this life. My son."
A few men came from out of the corners who weren’t mobsters. They looked like general folks. The only difference? They flashed badges and ordered Jack The Dagger to drop his weapon and put his hands up.
“Cops!” Carl called out. “Let’s go!”
“Stay here,” Mike ordered. “We’re not after you all. We’re only here for the murderer.”
The guys seemed to relax, as Jack The Dagger was indeed the only one approached and cuffed.
“I didn’t murder Rose!” Jack called out, wiggling under the restraints of two men.
“Who did?” Mike asked.
“I don’t know.”
Gia stepped forward. “Do any of you hoods who went to Slim’s Bar back in the day know who drove Rose home the night of the murder? The same night that Mike stayed late for a meeting with Slim?”
A female voice came from within the crowd. “I do!” Out walked the blonde art expert. “I’m Marie Giovanni. I was there waiting for my mother to get off work. I thought Rose was pretty, and she was nice to me. I saw a large man offer to take her home. It looked like she didn’t want to go. But he insisted. He took her by the elbow and pushed her out. I remember… I remember he said, ‘You be nice to me!’ She said, ‘Let go of me, Sal! You’re hurting my arm.’”
Tony was stunned. Could it be? Could it actually be that all this time it wasn’t his father, but his uncle, who had killed his mom?
Someone shouted, “Where’s Sal?”
“He was here a moment ago,” another said.
The sound of a coin dropping stole their attention. It rolled and landed at Tony’s feet. “Angelica?” He looked in the direction it came from.
The Latina beauty came out from around a corner of the gallery. "He's over here," she announced in defeat like she understood there was nowhere to hide.
“Ah, come on!” Uncle Sal’s voice complained. “You weren’t supposed to tell. I was going to make a run for it!”
“You couldn’t run if your life depended on it, fatty.”
Uncle Sal popped out from around the corner with a surprised look on his face. “Angelica? You can speak good English?”
"Better than you," she said and flipped her long black hair. She walked over to pick up the coin, but one of the undercover officers retrieved it first.
Angelica stepped back toward Sal. "It's too late. Turn yourself in." She turned back around. "Officers, he's not only a murderer but a smuggler. He was using me as his mule to transport those artifact gold coins into Canada."
"Psha! What? Noooo. Officers, don't listen to her. I picked her up in Mexico, and she's obviously a traitorous liar not only to me but you fine American policemen."
“I see it now. That is the man who took Rose home,” Jack The Dagger confirmed. He looked at his family. “I told you it wasn’t Big Bennie, Junior.”
“Yep,” Carl simply said.
“It was this same wise guy who fiddled with my watch. After that, one of the rubies went missing. I thought I lost it, but you stole it. Didn’t you?” Jack confronted Uncle Sal.
An officer immediately went to cuff the murderer. Mike Santino approached his brother, blinking in pain. “It was you,” he uttered. “My own blood. My brother, no less.”
Uncle Sal's face turned red and he burst into tears. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I did it. It was the liquor. It wasn't me. I just couldn't get over my jealousy. I wanted someone like Rose for myself, but I couldn't have her. When I drunkenly made a move on her in the kitchen, she-she kicked me in th
e nuts. She told me she was going to tell you. I-I… It just happened. I'm so sorry. I had hoped the ruby would frame Jack so you'd never have to find out the truth. I knew it would add pain on top of pain to know your brother did it. I'm so sorry."
“You’re not my brother,” Mike said, his voice shaking. “You understand me. I don’t have a brother. You are dead to me.”
Sal hung his head in shame.
“The only reason I’m not beating you to a pulp right now is because these officers are surrounding us.” He spat at Sal’s feet. “You wanna know the one good thing that came out of all of this?”
“What?”
“I now have connections in the slammer. You’ve got yours coming.” Mike pointed. “You just wait.”
The Giovannis clapped and cheered over that. Tony was crossing his arms tight against his torso. This was a twist he would never see coming. He felt his eyes sting and a tear trickled down his face. It was a tough pill to swallow, but at least the truth came out, justice would be served, and his father’s name was exonerated.
11
Petey sitting between them, Tony and Gia headed to In The Box bistro in Tony’s black truck. It was time to get back to the grind, to their regular routine of shop owner and employee. It was a pleasant enough day out. The sun cast a warm glow on Greenville. The lake and its fountains had a tranquil atmosphere. People were walking the lawn surrounding it, munching on goodies. Dogs were playing catch with their owners, with colorful frisbees and balls.
As they approached the quaint strip of businesses that had In The Box bistro, among other eateries, traffic became congested.
“Man, I wonder what’s going on,” Tony said. “This is insane.”
All of the people were blocking their view of the restaurant. A horn honked, a bicyclist whizzed by. Gia looked to her right. A group on the sidewalk was happily eating massive chili cheese dogs out of red-checkered boxes bursting with chips. She immediately recognized the food as being from In The Box.
