Omerta
Page 19
“I take it there is no need to search your men?” the tall one said about Renaldo and Nico.
“They are armed. I am not. I’m the only one with the appointment.”
“He will see you now that you have shown respect, my name is Sergei. You will come with me.”
They were led into darkness. Giovanni stepped over dark oily stains and walked through the musty heart of a cavern that had been turned into a slaughterhouse. Deeper inside were large meat hooks hanging from the ceiling and lamplights to the floor that clearly revealed Tarzan seated at a card table. He ate from his plate with a revolver lying beside it and four bullets neatly lined up. He did not look up. Not once. He kept eating—more like slurping down his food.
The woman next to him looked terrified. She sat staring straight ahead. She was a blonde and quite beautiful from what Giovanni could see. But her eyes were weepy and kept darting to him and then away like a trapped rabbit.
“Giovanni Battaglia,” Tarzan said as Gio and Dominic approached. It was clear the man knew who he was. “I remember wanting this meeting two years ago. You declined.”
Tarzan lifted his gaze and nailed Giovanni with it.
“Two years ago I believed you were no different than Nikolai.” Giovanni answered.
The corner of Tarzan’s mouth tilted upward. “Nikolai, the piz`da you dug out his eyes with an icepick? Nikolai was a pup, I’m no him.”
“I’m aware. You’ve gained the respect of the N’drangheta. You own the Testaccio.”
Tarzan laughed heartily. His men laughed with their boss as if commanded to do so. Everyone laughed except the scared bunny sitting next to Tarzan.
“I didn’t gain their respect. I took it,” Tarzan said.
“Shall we discuss business, or should I let you finish your dinner?” Giovanni asked.
The smile on Tarzan’s face dimmed. “Business? Should you and I do business? This is the first I’m hearing this.”
“It is the only reason I requested the meeting.”
“Hmmm, I don’t know if I can trust business with a Camorra rat.”
“Rat?” Giovanni asked.
“Licciardi and Racchi both rot behind jail cells. What do you Italians believe? Omertá? Is that it? That code of silence, the vow of integrity. All bullshit. I expect a different kind of show of loyalty. One I can trust. Let Anastasia show you.” He picked up a bullet and put it between his lips to suck it clean. Then he loaded it in the revolver. He slapped the chamber shut and gave it a spin. Dominic glanced to Giovanni. However, Giovanni never took his eyes off their host. And Tarzan never took his eyes off Giovanni. He slammed the revolver down on the table closest to the frightened woman. She lifted her shaking hand as if on silent command and picked it up. Giovanni glanced to her as she put the muzzle in her mouth.
“Anastasia is a liar, and we’ve been discussing what to do about lies. She wants my forgiveness. I have trust issues.” The Russian shrugged. “But I’m merciful. I’ve decided tonight to give her a chance to earn it,” he concluded.
Anastasia pulled the trigger and the gun clicked. It didn’t fire. But the woman jerked as if it did. She burst into tears with relief. She put the gun back on the table. Tarzan smiled. “Well, it seems Anastasia should be trusted. Now. Let’s talk about the King of Camorra and his fake vows. Should he be trusted? Should we use Anastasia’s bullet to prove it?”
“I’m not looking to be your friend, Tarzan. I’m here for a different kind of business. The kind that gets you out of the cave and into the light.”
“I like caves. This is home.”
“This is home because Alik Yerevan forced you here.”
“With your help,” Tarzan snickered.
“No longer. He and I have severed our ties. I hear he is looking to do business with the Americans.”
“So, no guns from the Camorra?”
“It’s business. Shall we discuss or play these word games?” Giovanni asked.
Tarzan stared at him for a long pause. Giovanni heard his men being brought inside. He wasn’t sure if they had their guns but if Renaldo and Nico did they were still out numbered. Nico stepped to his left and Renaldo stepped to Dominic’s right. Tarzan loaded the gun with the other three bullets. Now he had four in the chamber. And he wanted Giovanni to know what that meant.
The Russian put the gun back down on the table and sat back.
“I’m listening. Tell me what business I should have with the Camorra that brings Alik Yerevan to his knees? And then we will let Anastasia decide if it’s the truth or just more of the rat’s lies.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Seconde Possibilità - Second Chance
Naples, Italy
“Benvenuto in Italia,” the customs agent handed over her passport. Shae smiled for him and nodded. “Grazie,” she said. One of the few Italian words she knew. She walked through the terminal and did a visual check for the signs to point her to her luggage. Memories flowed like a river through her mind. Her first time in Italy had been such an adventure. Everything felt exotic and foreign to her. That feeling remained. She located her luggage by memory and then headed out to the front of the airport. She had limited funds, and no real plan. All she knew was where Carlo lived and the Battaglias.
She glanced at the cab drivers and looked for any signage that might have her name. One man nodded at her and she approached.
“Signorina Dennis Shannon?” he asked.
“Yes, I’m Shae,” she said with relief. His sign had her name written in the reverse. The man accepted her luggage and loaded it into the car. Shae got into the cab and let go some of her anxiety. She sold her car and the last of her expensive jewelry. She refused to use any of the money she had invested into the girl’s home. However, the funds she had managed to put together had to be spent wisely. She had a total of twenty-two thousand dollars and two weeks in Italy to try to find her friend and Carlo.
“You come to Italy before?” the driver asked. His English wasn’t perfect. She was grateful that he could communicate with her.
“A few times before. I know the Battaglias.”
The drivers smile faded. Shae could see his facial expression in the rearview mirror of the car. It looked like it drained of blood.
“Do you know a man named Carlo Alvise Giordano? He works for Giovanni Battaglia as his—”
“Signorina, I know nothing.”
The driver then turned up the volume of the radio. Her chance to engage him further had slipped. He said nothing else to her for the remainder of the drive into the Amalfi Coast.
Two hours Later —
The hotel was gracious and accommodating. She was given a cliffside room that faced the sea. Once in her room she wanted nothing more than sleep. Shae crawled across the bed and stared out of the large picture window at the skyline above Italy. She remembered sailing with Carlo under that same beauty. She smiled and drifted on the memory.
That night —
Shae woke to her phone ringing in her room. She sat up and reached for it. The phone stopped ringing. She picked it up and called the front desk.
“Hi, this is uh, Shannon Dennis, was a call transferred to my room?”
The operator said something in Italian. Shae sighed. She wasn’t sure what to do. Another person came on the line.
“Ciao Signorina Dennis?”
“Yes. Do you speak English?”
“Yes, how can I help?”
“A call was placed to my room. Do you have a way of knowing who it was?”
Shae had left a message for Marietta at the Battaglias. She told what time she would be landing and where she would be staying. In her heart she held out hope that Marietta had called.
“Ah, yes, yes, your driver has arrived.”
“My driver?” Shae looked at her watch. She forgot she hired a car to take her to Carlo’s villa through the same company that had picked her up at the airport.
“Oh, okay, tell him I will be down stairs in a few. She hung up and did her very
best to get dressed and freshen up. She found a coat to cover her pregnancy. Though at six months she wasn’t too large, she was visibly pregnant. When she arrived downstairs, she was approached by a driver who looked different than the first. He smiled at her and directed her to his car. He helped her into the back seat.
“Do you speak English?” she asked.
“Yes. They told me you are American.”
“Did they also explain where I wanted to go?”
The driver glanced up at her in the rearview mirror. He repeated the address. He didn’t seem spooked by it so she pushed for more answers. “It is the home of Il Macellaio,” he said.
“Who?”
The driver smiled. “You call him Carlo. We call him Il Macellaio.”
“Do you know him?”
The driver glanced to her and then back to the road. He didn’t answer. Shae tried to calm her nerves. Taking the trip was draining. And the doctors warned her against it. Doris had begged her not to go. But two months of hearing nothing from Marietta and Carlo had put more stress on her than traveling could. She had started reading the gossip rags searching for news on the Battaglias. And what she read made her blood run cold. There was some kind of mafia war and Giovanni Battaglia was at the center of it.
It’s okay, baby, we’ll be okay. Mama is going to be careful and find daddy. Shae said to herself, not aloud.
“I’m a friend of Marietta Battaglia. She is married to Lorenzo Battaglia. I have been unable to reach my friends. Carlo, and Marietta. I need—.”
“I am just a driver, signorina. I will take you to the villa. There you will get the answer you are seeking.”
Shae felt another sense of hopelessness. She closed her coat tightly around her. They travelled into the countryside in silence. She recognized the roads and villa’s nestled among the hills. She fought back her tears. What if she found Carlo? What then? Would she just open her coat and yell surprise? What would he do? He could have moved on. It had been six months since they last saw each other. Anything was possible.
The car came to a stop. It was darkest in this part of the hamlet. It was how Carlo preferred to live—in the shadows. But his lost boys that camped out on his land always had fires going, especially in the winter. She saw nothing but darkness outside of her window. The driver got out of the car first and opened her car door. Shae stepped out with the aid of his hand. She looked around at the abandoned tents and scattered trash. In the past there were boys, many of them that camped out around his place. She had hoped to find the same crew of ruffians. She had hoped if he wasn’t home, they would be.
“This way,” the driver said.
Shae frowned.
The man walked up the path to Carlo’s door. Why had he taken the lead? Shae glanced around and saw two cars parked. Both were emptied, one of them was a fancy sport car that only sat two people. Then it dawned on her. Carlo was home. He was there, and he knew she had come to town.
Shae bravely tightened her sash to her coat and used her purse to conceal her pregnancy the best she could. She followed her escort. He stopped at the door and opened it. Then he stepped aside.
“He’s here?”
The man stared at her. He was young and handsome but there was something cool and detached about his manner. It made her uneasy. There was more darkness inside of the villa. The absence of light felt unnatural. She itched to turn on a lamp or to flip a switch. Every instinct in her body told her to run. To turn and run. But in her state, she wouldn’t get far. What was going on? What had she arrived too?
Shae nodded to the driver and went inside. The stench of cigar smoke burned her nose. And the reddish amber of light from the man’s cigar was all she could see of him.
“Carlo?”
The door behind her closed. Shae jumped a bit startled. The man seated turned on the lamp next to him. It wasn’t Carlo. But she knew him. It was Carlo’s imitation. A young man that followed him around like an eager pup. She remembered his name. It was Umberto.
“Have a seat,” he said.
Shae looked to the sofa and then the man. Another stood further off in the room. He had a gun in his hand. And another came out of the kitchen with a gun in his hand. Her heart sank to the floor. She was now in the presence of three killers. And there was no trace of Carlo.
“Is he here?”
“I invited you to sit,” Umberto repeated.
Shae wasn’t used to cowering or showing any sign of fear in front of dangerous men. She knew dangerous men all her life. But the threat from Umberto was clear. She had no choice but to obey. She sat obediently in the chair.
“All the way from America,” Umberto chuckled. “Are you the bitch that broke Carlo’s heart?”
She glanced to the other men. Both smirked. Umberto’s smile felt like the biggest betrayal. Carlo trusted him. What was he doing?
“Yes, I remember you. Pink lady. That’s what we called you. Carlo’s Pink Lady.”
“Where is he?”
“Why are you here?”
“To see him, not you.”
“If you want to see him, you see me.”
Shae looked at the cigar and then Umberto. She wasn’t supposed to be around cigar smoke. She wanted to leave.
“I have to... I want to talk to him.”
“Talk?” Umberto chuckled.
“It’s personal.”
Umberto glanced to his cigar and then Shae. Does it bother you?”
She put her finger to her nose. “Yes, it does.”
He put it out. He said something in Italian to the other men and those men both walked out. Not before both gave her a passing look of distrust. When they left she felt some of her anxiety ease. But not much. Umberto still unnerved her.
“Carlo is gone. And we don’t know for how long.”
“Why? Where did he go? Is he in trouble?”
“What brings you to America. The truth!”
“I told you it’s personal.”
“You have been calling the Battaglia’s asking for Marietta, leaving messages. I know for a fact you never gave a shit about Carlo. Did Lorenzo send you? Are you here to get close to the Donna?”
“What? No. Marietta is my friend. I was calling her because I couldn’t find Carlo.”
“Bullshit!” Umberto reached for his gun. “I’ll ask it again. Why are you here? Did Lorenzo send you?”
Shae felt fear seizure through her body. It was a tight gripping sense of dread that made her breathing hard. She put up her hand. “I can show you why I came.”
Umberto stared at her curiously.
Shae stood.
She untied her sash to her coat and then shrugged it off. She revealed to Umberto what she wished she could explain to Carlo. He stared at her belly for a second and then looked at her.
“I’m six months pregnant. Carlo came to America in July. Do the math. He and I argued, and he left before I could tell him. I have called here a hundred times. I have left messages everywhere I could. I only called Marietta because she’s my friend and I have to find him.” Shae fought back tears. “Now I know he’s in trouble because you’re here. Threatening me. Talking about Lorenzo as if he’s your enemy.”
“You’re pregnant? From the Butcher?” Umberto laughed. “No one will believe this.”
Shae wiped her tears.
Umberto dropped back in the chair barely able to stop his laughter. He shook his head. “Lady you made a big mistake coming here.”
“Where is he?”
“Doesn’t matter. Carlo isn’t the Papa type.”
“Fuck you!”
Umberto stopped laughing. He sat upright with a serious face. “What did you say to me?”
“I said fuck you. This isn’t your business. This is his child and he decides what happens to it.”
Umberto raised the gun and pointed it at her. “Stupida puttana! Insult me again and I’ll put a bullet in the bastard and bury you in the yard.”
“I thought you were Carlo’s friend?”
“I—.”
“You will go back to your hotel. You will enjoy your stay in Italy. But you will keep to the tourism and stay out of the valley. If you contact the Donna or the Battaglias again I will pay you a visit. You and the bambino.”
Shae couldn’t believe her ears.
“Speak his name to anyone, and I will know. I will pay you a visit. Say Battaglia to anyone and I will know. I will pay you a visit. Do you understand?”
She nodded.
Umberto smirked.
“Good.” He lowered his gun. “Now go.”
Shae picked up her coat. She put it on and glanced over to Umberto once more. “He’s in trouble.”
“Carlo? Nah. He’s fine.”
“No. He’s in trouble if he has friends like you and the Battaglias. I don’t care what you say. Someday he will know you sent me away and it’ll be your mistake not mine.”
“Hmm, well, I’ll take that chance pink lady.” Umberto winked.
She picked up her purse and left. The men waited for her outside. She didn’t bother to say anything to any of them. When she reached the car, she waited for the driver to open the door. The hairs on the back of her nape tickled with suspicion. She glanced to her left. To the forest. She was certain to have seen a child. A boy, possibly fourteen or fifteen. He watched her from the woods. Was it one of Carlo’s boys? When she hesitated too long the man at her side looked up. She quickly got inside the car hoping her discovery of the kid didn’t alert the men to the child’s hiding spot.