Mama’s Gone

by Leopold Borstinski

  A shout came from the gloom. Naldo informed them that three of the four assailants were dead and a fourth was in the wind.

  “How many of ours?”

  “Two dead, one injured. The cops will be here any minute and we‘ve got weapons we need to hide.”

  “Keep doing what you‘re doing. You‘re a life saver.”

  “Prego.”

  Bobby indicated it was okay to breathe again. Frank went to see if Irma had been hit and Alice ran upstairs to check on Mama. She was hiding under the bed, sobbing.

  “It‘s all over, Mama. We‘re all safe.”

  “The mob‘s come to kill me.”

  “We've no idea who‘s responsible right now. Could be New York but I‘m not sure that makes sense. Why warn you and then go back on their word?”

  “They‘ve done much worse, dear.”

  “I‘m sure.”

  Alice helped Mary Lou scurry out from her hiding place and brushed her clothes with her hand to make her look less bedraggled.”

  “We need to get you a bodyguard.”

  “Definitely. They‘ve failed once and they‘re sure to try again.”

  THE COPS CAME into the house and spent the rest of the night bagging and tagging corpses, taking statements and following procedures that made them a general nuisance. The lieutenant in charge of the investigation knew the score: complete the paperwork fast and get out of the residence quick. As he was leaving, Bobby shook his hand and planted five C-notes in the guy‘s palm. They‘d wait until Bobby gave the go-ahead before they identified bodies or poking their noses into Lagotti family business.

  Once the uniforms and detectives had departed, Bobby put Mary Lou back to bed. Then he locked the door between the conservatory and living room. Naldo had already doubled the guard on the perimeter as soon as the police had finished interviewing him. For a man in the middle of all that gunfire, he sure saw and heard nothing.

  “Who did it? Anyone got any ideas?”

  “Mama said it was New York but why would they?”

  “Perhaps Markov. Or somebody else trying to move in on us. There‘s been heat in Chicago, Las Vegas and Boston recently. Some bright spark might have thought to attack us while our attention was on Markov.”

  “True. Does Markov have the balls to lay on tonight‘s treat?”

  “Yes. That man‘s ego is limitless and he has the resources to pull it off.”

  “Doesn‘t answer how the hell they got so close. Like one of ours turned rat.”

  “If we have a traitor in our midst, Naldo will find them, extract all the information we need from them and dispose of the body afterwards.”

  THE CRACK OF the gun sent Alice spinning, just as the speck of Mama‘s blood landed on her cheek.

  Ten minutes later after the initial Sturm und Drang was over, Alice‘s stomach felt heavy like a weight had been added to her body. And she experienced that weight as a dull ache masquerading as an unvoiced scream. As though a fractured yell was about to erupt from deep inside her. Only she knew that she would not - or could not - release that primal scream. It was bound, coiled inside. A cobra that would never leap on its prey. An agony that would never fade.

  Ten hours later and the initial shock had abated and that first pang of hurt was less intense. Still noticeably there inside her, but now Alice could walk around without experiencing the jagged edges of her sorrow. She sat in the church listening to the priest eulogizing over her Mama. The ground glass of her sadness eked into every pore and the abject misery of her world permeated all her being.

  FEBRUARY 1997

  38

  NEXT MORNING, MARY Lou padded downstairs with one thought rattling in her head.

  “Whoever attacked us last night must die.”

  Bobby, Alice and Frank all nodded agreement at the sentiment but knew there was no action to be taken at present because they still had no clue who‘d done it. Naldo said the hit men were from out of town and he‘d never seen than before. That almost ruled out New York because Naldo remained connected to the fellas back east.

  “When we find out who it is then they‘ll get theirs.”

  “Must be the Russian. Let‘s kill the Russian.”

  “We‘ve been over this, Mama. The guy can‘t be whacked that easily. Frank‘s spent a week in the same city as that mook and the fella still breathes. Do you think your son would have let him live if he‘d had the opportunity of killing him?”

  “I see. Why didn‘t you kill him, Frank?”

  “Too closely guarded and by fierce dudes too. Mean fuckers and professional: knew what they were doing.”

  “If Frank can‘t take him out, who are we going to get to do the job?”

  Alice and Bobby glanced at each other like they were living through their own Groundhog Day. Frank witnessed for himself Mama‘s grasp of the complex situation they found themselves in. Mary Lou could not see what all the fuss was about. It was as plain as the nose on her face that the what’s-his-name Russian must die.

  “WE MUST END the war, Mama. So that means we need to make a peace instead.”

  “Peace? I thought you said we end the war. And you do that by fighting harder than the other side.”

  “Not always. We can win against Nikolay Markov by beating him to the punch. If we negotiate the peace well, we get better access to his territories.”

  “And lull him into a false security so we can whack him at our leisure later on.”

  “That‘s my boy. Let's snare us a Russki.”

  “But first sit down and agree a deal. That‘ll get the outfit off your back and we all breathe safer then.”

  “The mob: I‘ve tangled with them before.”

  After an hour, the family got Mary Lou to focus more on a peace accord and less on whacking Nikolay.

  “Let‘s send Naldo over with a message that we want the violence to end and to sit down and talk terms - again.”

  “Good idea, Mama.”

  NALDO HAD GROWN tired of the constant trips to Fog City: too many hills and no-one knew how to cook a bowl of pasta properly. Always soggy, never al dente. The first order of business was to speak with Isaak Vasilev and keep him in the loop. If Vasilev was as good as Frank claimed, he would know Naldo was in dialog with Markov and might draw the wrong conclusion.

  Isaak was a shrewd one and, while the conversation was cold, he offered Naldo only professional courtesy and respect. Naldo didn‘t trust the fella‘s heritage, but they were both key participants in the lives of the rival twins. For him that meant they should follow the hierarchy but could still work well together for the greater good. On the other hand, Isaak appeared to treat his allegiance to Frank as all-encompassing. Perhaps Naldo took the same attitude when he was Isaak‘s age. Now, even Naldo had gained a sense of realpolitik and understood it was better to get along with people than create unnecessary enemies when all he wanted to do was kill for a living and protect those under his care.

  With Isaak onside, they figured out the best way to send a message to Markov was to have a quiet word with Lara Mikhailov, one of Nikolay‘s associates who had performed her fair share of murder and mayhem these past weeks. Naldo visited her that lunchtime with Isaak outside on the opposite roof training a rifle sight at her head.

  “FORGIVE THE INTRUSION on your meal, but I need to speak with you on a most urgent matter.”

  Mikhailov looked up from her newspaper, eyes flitting sideways seeking potential danger.

  “Do not be concerned. I am here for a conversation with you and nothing more. If you think about it, were I to want you dead then you‘d be slumped over your brisket by now. May I sit down?”

  “For sure. And what‘s to stop me shooting you now? I don‘t like strangers coming up and disturbing my lunch.”

  “Apart from the fact we are surrounded by witnesses and a sniper's aiming at your head as we speak? Nothing, but you wouldn‘t hear the message I wish to impart to you from Mary Lou Lagotti.”

  The name got Mikhailov‘s attention mor
e than any of Naldo‘s other words and she put her silverware down to listen.

  “We want to arrange a meet-up. We are all losing money and burying good people. Neither is great for business, so it should stop. The fighting must end and we need to agree the peace.”

  “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “You don‘t, but a single hand gesture on my part or any outward sign of menace on yours and you will be dead. The fact I haven‘t instigated your killing should demonstrate our good faith.”

  Beat.

  “If I wanted to carry on with our war then I should kill you. Right here, right now.”

  Naldo stared into her beady blue eyes and Mikhailov glared back. Four intimate seconds later and she blinked and relaxed her upper body.

  “Suppose I take you at your word, what are you proposing?”

  “ALL WE NEED is to agree a neutral venue and that the aim of the talks is to find an acceptable peace. A hotel in the tourist district or on the edge of town would suit us fine. Just not in the Tenderloin.”

  “And would reparations for past conduct be on the table?”

  “As much as it needed to be to agree a peace. Remember, there has been loss on both sides so we shouldn‘t fixate on monetizing our corpses.”

  “You have the blood of my friends on your hands.”

  “I am sure we do and your fingers reek of the guts of our fallen. But we still want a truce and to get back to earning money.”

  A waiter arrived and Naldo ordered an espresso. Mikhailov continued her chewing, occasionally taking a sip from her glass of water - although Naldo couldn‘t be sure it wasn‘t vodka.

  “And why now do you come here with your white flag and a promise of a bright tomorrow? What has changed since last week?”

  “We have lost enough money and want the pipe to flow again.”

  “Nothing to do with any trouble in Palm Springs you had?”

  Beat.

  “We heard about the attack on the Lagotti house. Sorry business, hitting a person‘s home. Did anyone get hurt?”

  “The housekeeper needed stitches and the morgue received three visitors. Was your hand in that?”

  “No. If I had then the four Lagotti family members would be dead and not seeking peace.”

  Naldo scratched his chin and Mikhailov raised her eyebrows and widened her eyes as if to prepare for her imminent assassination at the hands of Isaak‘s sniper rifle. Naldo smiled.

  “Don‘t be alarmed. Sometimes an itch is all that irritates me... Let‘s be clear: you and I are cut from the same cloth. We are professional people who can sniff bullshit a mile away because our lives usually depend on it. You could have killed me the minute I walked up to your table with the piece resting on your lap. My sniper could have taken you out any second after that, but we haven‘t because we understand there is time for action and time to listen.”

  Beat.

  “Make no mistake: tell Nikolay Markov to agree to sit down and thrash out a mutually agreeable truce. It is time for both sides to earn money.”

  Naldo stood up and placed enough green to cover the cost of his espresso and her meal, including tip. Then he headed for the door and walked down the street. Isaak maintained position with Mikhailov in his sights for more than a minute as she continued eating her lunch.

  He considered squeezing the trigger but thought better of it: Frank would not have been happy. Isaak dismantled the rifle and returned it to its case. Then he hopped over the top of two roofs and scuttled down a fire escape.

  39

  MARY LOU SAT on a sun lounger staring out at the pool. The rest of the family were in the summerhouse planning the strategy for the peace conference. They didn‘t want her there: every time she made any suggestion, someone would shoot her down. What was the point? Besides, the fastest solution to their war with Markov was a single bullet. That much was clear.

  Her only problem was to find a person who‘d be willing to act as Markov‘s executioner. The fear behind her daughter‘s eyes when Alice came back from secretly meeting him was sufficient justification for his death in Mary Lou‘s mind. Add in the current difficulties and she saw no reason to sit down and talk with that mook.

  Naldo and Isaak stood outside the summerhouse door, guarding the occupants while keeping a surreptitious eye on Mary Lou, who would glance up at them now and again. She was still getting used to the permanent bodyguard assigned to her. At the height of her power, she‘d protected herself and not relied on anybody else. She didn‘t see herself as old, but she recognized she wasn‘t as fast as twenty years before.

  The back of her throat was dry so she got up, but instead of heading to the kitchen, she wandered over to Isaak.

  “I need some help indoors. Can you come with me please?”

  Isaak looked to Naldo who returned the glance but had nothing to say for himself. So Isaak followed Mary Lou through the conservatory, up the stairs and into her bedroom. He still had no idea what he was doing there.

  MARY LOU SAT on the edge of the bed after Isaak closed the door. He stiffened, uncertain of where this situation was heading. She smiled a warm curl of lips and beckoned for him to sit on the stool by the vanity mirror. Isaak relaxed and slumped down.

  “There is something I would like you to do for me.”

  “Tell me and it is done.”

  “Thank you, but wait until I say what I want before you agree.”

  Beat.

  “I want you to go back to San Francisco tonight and kill Nikolay Markov. A knife in the chest, a bullet through his brains or a bomb under his car. It doesn't matter how you do it but that fucker must not be breathing in the morning.”

  Isaak shuffled on his seat, knowing this was the exact opposite of what the rest of her family wanted. But she was the head of the outfit. He couldn‘t think straight and played it cool to figure things out later.

  “Can I enlist any help?”

  “No-one who‘s connected to the family, but if you need a local hand, knock yourself out. The important thing is that Markov must die and the only two people to know who did it are sat in this room right now.”

  Mary Lou glared at Isaak to impress on him the severity of her requirements and the significance of their secrecy. He shuffled again and averted his gaze from Mary Lou‘s stare. Fucked if he did. Fucked if he didn‘t. At this rate, Isaak wouldn't be alive after St Valentine‘s day.

  “AND THIS CAN‘T wait until the peace conference, with respect?”

  “You mean, it‘d be easier to hit a few at the same time?”

  “Potentially. It would make a bigger statement if it happened in public, so to speak.”

  “Interesting...”

  Mary Lou brooded on Isaak‘s idea, giving it the full focus of her mind, even though he‘d only said it to buy himself some much needed space to think. He was surprised she‘d given it the time of day.

  “You‘ll be in the protection detail at the meet-up, won't you?”

  “I‘d expect so. I mean, nothing‘s been decided yet, but...”

  “That settles it. Once the meeting is over, you attack Markov before he leaves the room. He mustn‘t get out alive. And this has the added advantage that I watch him die with my own eyes.”

  “We‘ll all be frisked so I won‘t be carrying a rod.”

  “You will know the venue in good time and can make the arrangements. I‘ll leave you to figure out the details.”

  Mary Lou got off the bed and held open the door. Isaak took three or four seconds to get the hint, then he sprang up and walked out to resume his position outside the summerhouse door.

  “What she want?”

  “To find out if I thought a sniper could have a line of sight into her bedroom window.”

  “And?”

  “I told her the answer was no.”

  “Took you long enough.”

  Beat.

  “I know you don‘t need or want to hear this but my grandfather said something to me on his deathbed and I‘d like to share it wi
th you.”

  “What was that, then?”

  “Don‘t fuck your boss‘s mom.”

  “Wise guy, your grandfather.”

  “He was in an outfit.”

  They both smiled, wallowing in their own wit, but Isaak didn‘t know which way to turn. Somehow he he was being set up by Mary Lou, the butt of someone‘s lethal joke, and there was no way out of it.

  TWO HOURS LATER as the sun set, Bobby, Alice and Frank came out of the summerhouse to grab some fresh air and to clear their heads. Planning was a tiring business. Bobby sauntered into the main house and Alice plonked herself down onto a sun lounger, then lit a cigarette.

  Frank paced up and down beside the pool, taking quick puffs from his smoke. Naldo and Isaak remained tethered to their posts, but when Frank stormed inside, Isaak followed him in. Naldo stood impervious to the goings on around him - or so it appeared.

  In reality, little happened within his sight that wasn‘t noted and logged for later use. And because he stayed calm and quiet, foolish people would forget he was even there. So when Isaak popped into the building behind Frank, Naldo noticed and recorded that fact in his brain. He had no idea if it was a significant action, but if it was then he had witnessed it and would inform somebody in the future.

  Alice continued on the sun lounger and smiled as she caught Naldo‘s eye. Both she and Bobby acknowledged his presence whereas almost everybody else acted like he wasn‘t there. Denied his sheer humanity - even Mary Lou treated him as though he was chopped liver. And they had known each other for a lifetime. Naldo had always given her the excuse that she was too important for him to expect her to treat him kindly, but after this many years, that had worn thin.

  BY THE TIME Isaak caught up with Frank, he was four paces away from the bathroom. Frank looked askance at Isaak who indicated nothing was as urgent as Frank‘s immediate biological needs. When he came out a few minutes later, Isaak was still there, waiting and delivering his words in a hushed tone.