Murder Takes Time (32 page)

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Authors: Giacomo Giammatteo

Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #General, #Thrillers, #Suspense, #Hard-Boiled

BOOK: Murder Takes Time
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INDIANAPOLIS

20 Months Ago

I
drove the car down to Philly and left it at the airport. Then I took a cab to Center City, and another one to a rental car center, where I got an economy class for two weeks, all under a different name. From there, I headed west to Indianapolis. With a decent day of driving, I’d be there for dinner.

I thought about a lot of things on the way out. Most of all, about how my life had changed and why I’d risked everything for a woman I didn’t know. After much philosophizing, I blamed it on the church and Sister Mary Thomas. They were the ones who planted the seeds of guilt in me.

By the time I got to Indy, Gina was a wreck, trembling all the time, and looking over her shoulder every few minutes. It took me a while to calm her. The next day we went to Chicago and got her two new identities—Kathy Mynnocki and Mary Simmons. She didn’t like the names, but she wasn’t
too
unhappy with them. The worst thing was, I told her she couldn’t teach anymore; they’d be looking for all the things she’d done in her former life.

We went back to Indianapolis and rented her a small house. Then I gave her instructions on how she’d have to live her life. She cried when I left. It hurt, but I knew I had done the right thing. Indianapolis was a good place to hide her: big city, but growing fast; airport with quick, easy connections to a lot of nearby cities; and best of all, four interstates to jump on and be damn near anywhere in short order. Within four hours she could be in Chicago, Cincinnati, Cleveland, Detroit, Louisville, or St. Louis. As I drove back to New York, I realized I not only felt sorry for her, I kind of liked her.

At times like this I envied Bugs, out with different women all the time. I couldn’t do that. I was always looking for that one special someone. The problem was, none of them were Angela.

Gina wasn’t Angela either, but…something was different. Maybe I just wanted her more. Maybe it was empathy—both of us loners and without family. I picked my car up at the Philly airport, then headed for home. As I drove over the Walt Whitman bridge I reached for a cigarette that wasn’t there, then shook my head. I had to get this shit out of my mind. If Tito found out she was alive, then
I
was dead.

CHAPTER 50

TONY AND TITO HAVE LUNCH

Brooklyn—18 Months Ago

I
t had been a few months since I left Gina, and the memories were already fading. For a while there had been a strong desire, but maybe that was just me being horny. What I needed was a “good lay” as Tony always said, but that didn’t strike me as appealing. I might as well beat off. It was faster, cheaper, and I could dream about somebody I actually
wanted
to be with.

As I pushed the image of Angela out of my mind, the cell phone rang. “Hello?”

“Nicky, it’s Tony. We’re having lunch at Cataldi’s.”

It was early for lunch, but what the hell. “I’ll be twenty minutes.”

When I got there, Paulie and Bugs were at the table with Tony, and it looked as if at least one, if not two, limoncellos had already gone down. “You guys getting an early start on something?”

“Just another wonderful day,” Paulie said.

“So I guess you’ve all been swimming?”

Bugs grabbed a piece of bread from the basket, but before he stuffed it in his mouth, he said. “I have.”

“I don’t care about swimming,” Paulie said. “I’m hungry.”

“What’s everyone having?”

“Cannelloni,” Tony said, and the grunts coming from Paulie convinced me he was too.

When the waiter came to the table, three of us ordered cannelloni. Bugs ordered manicotti. All through lunch, we talked about old days, like we did every time we got together. As the years passed, real memories of the old days faded and they became more what we
wanted
them to be. We talked about gang fights but forgot how scared we were before the fight happened. All we remembered was that one moment of euphoria afterwards. Frankie and Tony talked about girls and their conquests, ignoring the heartbreaks that went along with them.

Paulie downed his drink, ordered another round, then asked me if I was ever going to see Angie. “Take a goddamn weekend off and drive down, for Christ’s sake. It’s only a couple of hours.”

The suggestion sounded good, I had to admit, but then reality hit. “What am I going to do, Paulie, go back and say, ‘Hey, Angie, look at me. I’m a union rep.’”

Tony seemed pissed. “Why the hell would you want to see her after what she did to you?”

I didn’t like his tone or his attitude. “What the hell, Tony. I was in prison. Tell me you’re waiting seven years for someone?”

He let out a half-snort, accompanied by a sneer, the kind Tony was so good at. “Yeah, but she didn’t even wait seven months. She’s a—”

I reached for him, but he was across the table. If he’d have been closer, I’d have hit him. “Don’t.”

I looked at each of them. “I know you didn’t like Angie much, but I won’t have anyone talking bad about her.” I turned, staring straight into Tony’s eyes. “
Nobody.

Bugs changed the subject then scooped the last of his dessert onto his fork. “Fuck, that’s it for me, guys.”

“What?” Paulie asked.

“Tito just walked in. I can’t afford to be seen with him.” Bugs wiped his mouth and threw two twenties on the table.

“Put your money away,” Tony said.

“Can’t take a lunch from you either.”

“I can,” I said.

“Yeah,” Tony said. “See you guys next time.”

I nodded to Tito as we passed.

Within five minutes, I was on my way.

T
ITO WALKED TO THE
table that Nicky and Bugs just left, pulled up a seat across from Tony. “Hey, Paulie, why don’t you watch the car. Let Tony and me talk.”

Paulie got up and left, and after the waiter took Tito’s order and brought some more bread, Tito started talking. “I’ve been proud of you, Tony. You’ve been making good money.”

“Thanks, Tito.”

“They told me you were a smart kid when I took you on. That was the tag you had coming up, but lots of kids have that. What you’ve done is deliver, and that’s important.” He took a sip of water, then another. “Nothing is more important than delivering.”

“I couldn’t have done shit without Paulie. He’s the best.”

Tito nodded. “Yeah, I hear Paulie’s good. You need good people around you. You’ve got a lot of good friends—Paulie, Nicky, and even Bugs is good. It’s a shame he’s a goddamn cop.”

“At least he had the balls to give us a heads-up.”

“That’s what I mean—he’s all right.” Tito drank more water, then held his glass up for the waiter to see. “Service here has gotten bad.”

“They’re just busy. It’s usually great.”

After Tito got more water, he leaned close to Tony. “That thing we talked about before? It went good. Your boy did okay.”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “You mean Nicky?”

Tito looked at him as if he were nuts. “Yeah, the same Nicky who just left here ten minutes ago.”

Tony wiped his mouth and crumpled the napkin, laying it on his plate. “You see the body? If not, you paid for something you never got. But who cares? If it took care of your problem, that’s all that matters.”

“My men saw it go down. Manny verified it with the papers.” He wiped his face with the napkin—wiped it hard, as if he were scrubbing off glue—then wagged a thick finger at Tony. “And I get what I pay for.
That’s
what matters.”

Tony held up his hands. “Whatever you say, Tito. But he didn’t kill her. Nicky Fusco would
never
kill a broad.”

Tito sat silent for a while. He ordered a cappuccino when the waiter came, and once they were alone again, he spoke. “I’m gonna have this checked out. In the meantime, you put somebody on Nicky. I want to know what he does, where he goes, what he buys, what he eats. If this guy fucked me…”

“If he fucked you, it wasn’t you he was after. I’m telling you, it’s the broad thing.”

Tito stood, threw his napkin on the table. “You find out if he killed that girl. And if he didn’t—kill them both.” He stared at Tony. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You’ve been pressing real hard on this. What’s the matter, he fuck your wife or something?”

Tony’s face tightened. “That’s out of line. I don’t care who you are.”

“I’m going to have this checked out. I’ll let you know what I find,” he said, and stormed out of the restaurant.

CHAPTER 51

SHATTERED OATH

Brooklyn—18 Months Ago

A
s Tony got up and started for the door, the waiter intercepted him with check in hand.

“Mr. Sannullo—”

“Put it on the tab.”

He bumped a few customers, then burst through the front doors. Paulie was waiting.

“What happened? Tito came out of there like he wanted to kill someone.”

“Just the normal shit.”

“Hey, Tony, don’t give me that. What happened?”

Tony filled Paulie in on the details about Gina and how they had to hit her. He left out the part about hitting Nicky.

“You mean Nicky was supposed to take her out? You telling me our Nicky is a fuckin’ shooter?”

“You heard it right. Problem is, he didn’t do the job. Now he’s fucked.”

“What are we gonna do? We can’t let anything happen to Nicky. I don’t give a shit about Tito. This is Nicky we’re talking about.”

Tony stared at him as if he were a two-year-old. “You don’t give a shit about Tito? Who the fuck pays for your house? Who sends your kids to private school?” When Paulie didn’t say anything, Tony continued. “Don’t worry. I got a plan. If we get the girl, we can convince Tito to leave Nicky alone. I promise.” Tony patted Paulie’s arm then headed for his car. “Meet me at Bobby’s later.”

Paulie started to say something else, but Tony turned on him. “And listen, you ever bring up Angie again, and I’ll kick your ass.”

“What the hell? All I did was tell him to go see her.”

“Yeah, well, leave it alone. Nicky’s better off without her. Look what happens to him when he gets with girls. This one’s got him in trouble.
Big
trouble.”

Paulie got into the car, still shaking his head.

T
ONY WONDERED ALL THE
way over how to go about this. He couldn’t come right out and ask Nicky, because he wasn’t supposed to know; besides, that would make Nicky suspicious. First thing he’d have to do is prove that Nicky
didn’t
kill her. Shouldn’t be too difficult. Tito said it was in the papers, but Tony knew how easy it was to get something planted. Usually, though, the paper ran a retraction a few days later to cover their asses, using the old honest-mistake argument if anyone questioned them. He’d bet anything Tito never checked for a retraction. He picked up his cell and dialed Tito’s number.

“Yeah, who’s this?”

“Me.”

“What are you going to ruin my day with now?”

“Just a thought for you. Maybe have somebody check the papers where you read that first story. See if there were any retractions.”

“That it?”

“That’s it.” Tito hung up.

Tony wouldn’t want to be Manny, or whoever verified that information.

T
ITO
M
ARTELLI STORMED INTO
the house, slamming doors as he moved from room to room. When he finally settled in the kitchen, he called for Manny.

Even before Manny got to the kitchen, Tito was screaming. “That fuckin’ Nicky didn’t kill her, Manny. I thought you checked this out. I thought she was dead.”

Manny waited, knowing from experience that Tito could not be dealt with when he got like this. He walked to the sink, got water ready for coffee, poured iced tea for himself. Then he waited while Tito rambled. When Tito settled down, Manny spoke. “You mean Gina? If you’re talking about her, I
did
check. Papers ran the obit, remember? Besides, Chicky and them saw it go down.”

“You double-check?
I
just did. They printed a retraction three days later.”

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