No Room for Mercy (18 page)

CHAPTER NINE

SMUGGLER’S BLUES

“Okay, that’s the last one. Let’s load up and be
gone,” Lucky told Junior and Eddie, the three having just
repackaged twenty-seven kilograms of cocaine inside JunJie’s
warehouse in Bedford Park on 71
^st
Street in Chicago for
transport to Saint Charles. It was now September of 2002, five months
after the hit on the Onishi brothers. It was a Saturday and the
warehouse was closed, but the crew had free access the building
anytime they wanted.

By the fall 2002, no clues as to the killers of Hayate and Isao
Onishi had been uncovered as of yet. All authorities knew was that it
was an orchestrated hit perpetrated by professionals given the nature
of the shots and the discovery of the officer’s burned corpse
and scorched patrol car. Investigators never knew of the real turmoil
between JunJie Maruyama and the Onishi brothers, and the man was
conveniently out of town in Key West, Florida when the killings took
place so he’d never become a suspect. His cunning
maneuverability, and the fact that he had Agent Jarkowski on his
payroll, kept him from being charged and the connection between he
and the Chicago Gang was never made.

JunJie was quickly put in position to take over a major portion of
Seattle’s ports and within a couple of months, cocaine
shipments had increased. All was going well for the Chicago Gang by
the start of fall; cocaine was moving as fast as it could be
transported and everybody was making good money and staying under the
radar. Business was merely continuing on as usual for all involved.

“Man, we gettin’ a late start. It’s two in the
afternoon already. You notified Benito and Gaggi, Lucky?” Eddie
asked.

“Yeah. Everybody’s waiting us so let’s load and get
on the road.” Lucky responded while pulling the door up on a
truck that was backed into the dock.

“You heard from mom and granddad at the hospital?” Junior
asked as he hopped onto a forklift.

“Your grandmother is undergoing tests and she’s fine,
son. That’s what pops said. He’ll update us later.”

“You comfortable with mom joining us on this, dad?”

“It’s a simple run, son. We’ve been doing this all
summer.”

“I know all that. But, it’s mom. She gonna be okay?”

“Son,” Lucky responded as he eyed Junior, “your
mother insisted she join us because she’s ready to get away for
a while. This thing with Francine has her as nervous as all out
doors, not this delivery. Besides, she won’t be nowhere near
the stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

Lucky, Junior and Eddie were going to travel down to Saint Charles
and make a drop off on this cool autumn Saturday in late September of
2002. Once Junior loaded a couple of pallets of fruit intertwined
with cocaine, he and Lucky headed to his Avalanche and joined
Mildred, while Eddie got behind the wheel of the refrigerated
six-wheeled truck.

The plan was to drive down to Saint Charles and make the switch,
cocaine for cash. From there, Lucky and Mildred would head to
Oklahoma with the profits so Naomi could wash the money clean through
the family’s businesses while Gaggi and Benito distributed the
product to a few soldiers from Fox Park who helped Eddie and Junior
move the weight. The crew pulled out of the warehouse and were on
their way once the gate was locked.

*******

“
On that train of graphite and glitter…On the sea by
rail…Ninety minutes from New York to Paris…Where by
seventy-six we’ll be a okay…What a beautiful world this
would be… What a glorious time to be free…”
Pop and Jazz singer Donald Fagan’s song,
I.G.Y.
(What a
Beautiful Word), blared loudly inside Lucky’s Avalanche as he
headed south on Interstate-55 towards St. Louis, Missouri, about
thirty minutes into the trip and having just made a fuel stop with
Eddie.

As he rode with his parents, Junior repeatedly shook his head at the
song being played. “Every time, man,” he sighed.
“
Every
—
freakin’
—
time
I
get in a vehicle with you it’s like going back in a time
machine!”

“You just don’t know good music, son.” Mildred
remarked making Lucky smile; proud that his wife was taking up for
him.

“You sidin’ with dad? You sidin’ with
dad
?
You didn’t say that back at the gas station when you were
complaining about the fact that he needs to step out his time machine
and play more up to date music.”

Lucky dropped his smile and looked over at Mildred; the woman was
trying to keep her composure, but she knew all-too-well she had made
that statement. Mildred was a fun-loving and easily entertained
woman, and hearing her son repeat her words caused her to chuckle.

Lucky could look at his wife’s face and tell right away that
she had made the statement. “You think that’s funny,
Mildred,” he asked. “Step outta my time machine, eh? You
callin’ me an old timer? You callin’ me an old timer you,
you—”

Before Lucky could get Mildred’s favorite saying from out his
mouth, Mildred was already beginning to erupt into laughter, her body
was heaving as she tried not to laugh, but Mildred couldn’t
help herself as she just knew it was coming.

“Ohhh!” Lucky yelled aloud over the music.

“Ahhhhh!” Mildred screamed in loud laughter as she
slapped her legs and rocked back and forth in her leather seat.
“Don’t say it no more! I’m gonna piss my pants!”
Mildred said as tears ran down her face from the laughter.

Junior was in the back seat laughing at his mother. Mildred had an
infectious laugh, and her laughter soon had Junior and Lucky laughing
uncontrollably and Lucky wasn’t going to stop no time soon.
Since Mildred and Junior laughed at his choice of music, Lucky
decided he would get back at one of them at least, that one being
Mildred. “You gonna piss your pants? You betta not piss your
pants in my fuckin’ Cadillac you, you—”

“Lucky, stop! Don’t say it! Don’t you say it!”

“Ohhh!” Lucky yelled aloud.

“Ahhh! You mutherfucka!” Mildred screamed through
laughter as she grabbed the dash board with both her hands, her eyes
wide and filled with tears as she looked straight ahead.

Lucky and Junior saw the expression on Mildred’s face and they
couldn’t help but to laugh. For whatever reason, Mildred had
caught the giggles at this moment. What Lucky was saying wasn’t
really that funny, but Mildred thought the entire scenario was more
than hilarious. Soon, Lucky and Junior were laughing along right
along with Mildred; and every time Lucky yelled “ohhh”,
Mildred would scream out in laughter.

“Hey, son, ya’ see there? I’m milking your mother
like them heifers down on Naomi’s farm!” Lucky said
through laughter.

“Ohh boy! Foot in ya’ mouth dad!” Junior stated
under his breath as he watched his mother’s face grow serious.

“You callin’ me fat, Lucky?” Mildred asked angrily,
changing her entire demeanor.

“No! You took that statement the wrong way, alright? I was
stating how when you calm down, I make you laugh again and you almost
piss your pants each time. I was milking your laughter is what I was
doing.”

“Bullshit! You sittin’ over there
tryin’
to
make me piss my pants!”

“Ehhh, hold the fuck up! You was laughing the whole time!”

“Yeah, but I kept asking you to stop!”

“You didn’t stop until you heard the word heifer, and no,
you nowhere nears fat. You look the same as the day I met you at the
ball park in April of seventy-one.”

“You still remember?” Mildred asked with a sweet smile.

“Of course I do. I remember what you had on too.”

“What did I have on, Faustino?” Mildred asked as she
reached out and stroked her husband’s muscular biceps.

“You had on red shorts, black tennis shoes with a red and white
stripped blouse. I remember because you looked like a fuckin’
Cardinals fan.”

“I told you I was Cubs fan that day, but secretly, I was going
for the Cardinals.” Mildred chuckled.

“I knew it! That’s why—all these years and you only
watched the Cubs when they play the Cards! Hey, son? We got a traitor
amongst us! Your mother’s a Card’s fan! Maybe they
playing today, how about we drop you off at the stadium when we get
to Saint Louis? How about we do that? You can watch them instead of
going to Spoonie and Tyke’s game you, you—”

“Don’t you start that again!” Mildred screamed as
she eased away from Lucky.

“Fuckin Cards fan, ohhh! Unfuckin’ believable!”

“Ahhhhh! I told you not to say it! I’m gonna piss my
pants! Pull over now! Now before I wet myself, Lucky!”

Mildred had to force Lucky over at that point. He quickly pulled
over, and called and had Eddie slow down. Mildred hid from sight,
squatted and urinated, and before long they were back on the highway.
Once everyone was situated and the group was back behind Eddie, Lucky
grabbed his phone and called Doss, who was on the ranch lying low
with his family, and told him they were on the highway.

*******

Doss and the big three hadn’t done much since the Seattle job.
They only practiced shooting on a daily basis and spent time with the
family. Killing an officer was serious business, and the Chicago Gang
had requested that Doss and the big three lay low. Doss was to make
$400,000 dollars off the hit, but when DeeDee and Mendoza heard all
the details, they kicked in another $150,000 dollars.

Doss and his family walked away with over half the payoff. Another
two hundred thousand dollars was given to Lucky. Once DeeDee and
Mendoza got their twenty percent cut each of the remaining profit,
the one hundred and fifty thousand remaining dollars, was tucked away
in a rainy day fund for the gang to use for lawyers and bail money.
That was the usual order of things on big hits within the family,
with Doss getting a forty percent markup off the top for his
services. A few hours after he’d talked to Lucky, Doss got a
call from Mendoza, who seemed a little unnerved in his tone of
speech.

“Everything okay?” Doss asked as he sat in his private
room.

“It’s Francine,” Mendoza said sadly. “Francine
has breast cancer and she may need a double mastectomy in order to
save her life.”

“The tests didn’t go well, I see. I’m sorry to hear
that, man. You called Lucky and told him?”

“I don’t want to put that on his mind while he’s
working. Him or Junior. I’m, I’m gonna step aside for a
while until we get through this. Have Lucky call me as soon as he
arrives on the ranch, he’ll have to take the reins for now.”

“You got it. Your family will be in me and Naomi’s
prayers, my friend.”

“Thanks, Doss. That means a lot. DeeDee’s here with me.
He says he’s not gonna fly down for Spoonie and Tyke’s
softball game and says you will understand.”

“Of course I understand, Mendoza. And Francine’s a strong
woman. She’ll fight this battle and win it without fail.”

“Yeah,” Mendoza said in an unsure tone before he hung up
the phone and went and sat beside DeeDee in the waiting room in total
shock.

“You got in touch with Lucky?” DeeDee asked.

“No. I talked to Doss down in Oklahoma. I’m gonna wait to
tell Lucky. He’s doing that thing, you know, so I don’t
want to upset him and my grandson.”

“That’s understandable. Francine’s a fighter.
She’ll pull through.”

“How right you are. You wasn’t, you wasn’t around
this day back in sixty-eight when these broads got racist with
Naomi.” Mendoza said, reminiscing about happier times to
lighten the mood in the waiting room.

“Francine told me about that day.” DeeDee said as he
smiled and reached over and poured him and Mendoza a cup of coffee.

“Hey, thanks. Just what I need to work out the kinks. Yeah,
Naomi, she, she couldn’t have been no more than twelve or
thirteen at the time, and Francine had to be in her late thirties
then, il mio amico. Man we kicked some tail that day. I remember
walking across the street watching Francine and Naomi thump this
broad while she was on the ground,” Mendoza broke into laughter
at that moment. “And I went over there and called them women
some of the worse names imaginable let me tell ya’,” he
added.

“Serena even got in on the action Francine told me.”
DeeDee chimed in.

“Serena most certainly did. Hey, she surprised everybody with
that move. Ohhh, that was a scrappy one there when it really got down
to it, Doss.”

“Umm, hmm. She and Kevin were good people, too. Good parents to
Naomi.”

“They were a calming force in Naomi’s life. And good
friends to Francine. I know Francine wishes they were around today.
The Langleys, the Langleys had a way of making everything seem okay,
you know? No matter what the circumstances were at the time. I could
use their uplifting spirits now because I really don’t wanna
lose Francine. She’s my best friend you know?”

DeeDee sat upright with his coffee and asked, “And what am I?”

“Chopped liver is what you are,” Mendoza replied as he
and DeeDee shared a quick laugh. Mendoza then sighed and looked down
into his cup of coffee. “It’s something we all have to
face, Doss.”

“What? Death?”

“Yeah. I wonder how it’ll all end for me. There really
isn’t much time left. I have many more days behind me than in
front that’s for sure,” seventy-one year-old Mendoza
remarked somberly.

“Don’t think about it, man. Not now anyway,”
seventy-one year-old DeeDee replied as he patted Mendoza’s
shoulder.

“I can’t help but think about it. I went to the doctor
myself last week and you know what he told me?”

“Was it good or bad?”

“Indifferent is what it was.”

“Okay. What’d he say?”

“He said, and he was smiling, too, when he told me, ‘You’re
in good health, Mister Cernigliaro. Just make sure you eat plenty
fruit because an apple a day keeps the doctor away’.”