No Room for Mercy (57 page)

“Are you saying we should return to business as usual because
this isn’t as big a deal as it seems?” Doss asked as he
trailed Mendoza inside the RV.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying. Not right away,
though. We want those plotting against us to think we aren’t on
to them. Which we really aren’t, but they don’t have to
know that. We keep operating, the people responsible for tippin’
off those cops will play right into our hands.” Mendoza said
casually as he sat down on a leather sofa and crossed his legs. “You
know, Doss? One of my first jobs, my umm, my first contracts was
against my own boss?”

“I’ve heard about that. Albert Anastasia back in nineteen
fifty-seven.” Doss said as he sat down beside Mendoza.

“Forty-nine years ago. The guy was a man who trusted me, he
was, he was like the father I never had you know? But I stabbed him
the back. I nearly got Zell’s ass, too. But Zell’s
situation taught me a lesson.”

“That lesson being?”

“That people like myself, people like myself will always be
around. Back biters, betrayers of trust who will kill anybody,
anybody for loyalty’s sake. It’s something I’m not
proud of, but I can honestly admit to. Others, though, others will
not admit to such treachery.”

“Our loyalty has been betrayed,” Doss said. “By
who?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, son. I don’t
even believe it, but if I’m correct in my assumptions, this
will have to be my deal, and my problem to rectify. My own situation
that will be handled by me in due time.”

“You old mobsters love to talk in riddles. I wonder what’s
going on in that wise mind of yours.”

“I’m not too good with analogies, but understand me when
I tell you that my mind is struggling to overpower my heart. I do
this for this thing of ours, because I’ve always been loyal to
those I love—for the most part.”

“We all have been loyal.”

Mendoza smiled at Doss and said, “You and your family, from
your father on down to your oldest three children are the epitome of
loyal, Doss. Me? I’ve stabbed one man in the back and nearly
did the same thing to another man who trusted me.”

“You’re talking about Zell,” Doss replied lowly,
now with full understanding that he was in the middle of being handed
down decades of wisdom from a man who’d spent his entire life
inside La Cosa Nostra.

Mendoza nodded his head up and down slowly to say yes. “When
Zell forgave me for staging a coup back in ninety-two, because my ass
should’ve been killed the night he put two and two together,
when Zell forgave me, I told myself that I would be forever faithful
to the crew he put me in charge of. I would love them all
unconditionally and do whatever I needed to do in order to teach how
important loyalty is to a crew’s survival. Quattordici anni,”
(Fourteen years,) Mendoza said seriously in Italian as he stared Doss
directly in the eyes. “Fourteen years. I’ve stayed true
to my word for quattordici anni. I’m one of the last of my kind
in this thing of ours to stay true, son, but my heart is heavy on
this day, because I foresee something in the future and I don’t
think I’ll have it in me to do what’s right should it
have to come to that. And it is for that reason, and that reason
alone, that I’m, I’m going to remove myself from the
business, Doss.”

“Are you ready to step down completely, Mendoza?”

“I am, son. You will run this thing of ours. I umm, I want your
children to be the underbosses.”

“What about Junior?”

“Junior will have his place amongst us as well, il mio amico.
Before I retire though, I want you to join me and my wife for dinner
inside our new home.” Mendoza said as he stretched his hands.

“New home?”

“Yes. I’m going to buy this RV to go along with the ranch
I’ve bought over in Montana and park it on the land until we
build a home there. These two deals will become the first phase of my
last big deal, il mio amico. And this deal,” Mendoza said
seriously as he leaned forward and eyed Doss. “Ask not what I
do, because the why will be understood soon enough.”

“One of those Italian things I assume.”

“An Italian matter it is, my friend. I’m preplanning for
my final stages in life.”

“You’re healthy, Mendoza. You’ll be around, my
friend.”

“That is the thing that worries me, Doss—the fact that
I’ll be around.” Mendoza said somberly as he looked to
the floor. “How’s the hunt for those Somalis going,”
he then asked lowly.

“The Somalis,” Doss said as he leaned back and rubbed his
chin. “We haven’t a clue where those guys are located.
They’ve dropped off the radar. All we have is one photo and no
name to put to the picture.”

“We have business here in Chicago, up in Milwaukee and over in
Detroit. Saint Louis is a dangerous place now, son. My final order
before I step aside is to cut back on the shipments to Saint Louis
until we find those Somalis. What other business have we have down
there? Will our boys in Saint Louis continue to eat with a decrease
in cocaine?”

“Yeah,” Doss replied. “Jay-D is getting ready to
invest in this rapper guy and he has Eddie’s football pool to
run. That usually nets about ten grand a week during the football
season. I have Malik working on the club I plan on opening, so he and
a couple of our guys are earning pay there. Can’t speak for the
foot soldiers. We cut back in Saint Louis I reckon we can break the
product down, but I hate to go back to selling crack and ounces.”

“It is best for now, Doss. Until, until Eddie is sentenced and
we find those Somalis, I think it’s best we cut back in Saint
Louis. There’s a stink in the air in Saint Louis and I don’t
like it one bit. I see clouds, my friend. I want you to be careful.
Stay on guard and keep your family close. Heed my warning.”

“I most certainly will,” Doss remarked as Francine and
the salesman climbed inside the RV.

“What’s the big deal with this RV and the ranch? Can you
at least tell me that?” Doss asked.

“I want to leave something to my great grandchildren, Doss. My
family is nearly done with this business,” Mendoza said as he
got up to greet the salesman. “In due time, the business will
be all yours.”

“We have the paperwork all ready, my love,” Francine told
Mendoza. “Doss? Your’re gonna ride down to Ponca City
with us? We’re going to see the family, but I just can’t
wait to see our great grandchildren.”

“Sure, I’ll ride. This is really nice. I’m sure
Junior will be glad to see you both as well.”

Mendoza chuckled as he walked towards the front of the vehicle. “I’m
sure he will, Doss. And I can’t wait to take him and his family
to Montana to show them the land we’ve brought. It’s
fifty acres of lush, green grass. I may buy some horses.”

“Sounds like you and Francine are going to enjoy the good life
in your latter years.”

“We are. We will. And my great grandchildren will have
something to remember me and Francine by when they get older.
Something to be proud of for being a Cernigliaro—them and Tiva
both. Remember, Doss, be careful in Saint Louis. Watch out for the
Somalis,” Mendoza said as he extended his hand towards the
salesman. “Let’s make ourselves a deal, my friend,”
he then said to the salesman.

*******

“Goodness gracious! This is the biggest monstrosity I’ve
ever seen in my life! You drove this gigantic thing all the way from
Indiana, Mendoza?” DeeDee asked as he walked around the
Cernigliaro’s newly purchased RV three days after Mendoza,
Francine and Doss had left Indiana.

“Sure did. And I’m on my way to Montana in another week.
And guess what? Your ass is ridin’ with me and Francine.”

“I’m not ridin’ with your old ass in this thing,”
DeeDee quipped. “Shit, I don’t know about you, but I plan
on being around to see my family grow up.”

“You have to come. It’s important that you come.”

“Why?”

“I want to show you something.”

“I’ve seen the ranch you brought up there. Ain’t
nothing new for me to see.”

“When I say show, I mean from a conversational standpoint. This
is important, il mio amico.”

The look on Mendoza’s face was a signal to DeeDee. The two
aging gangsters had a rapport going concerning matters inside the
organization they once ran and the issue that had been troubling
Mendoza was obviously still on his mind in DeeDee’s eyes. What
the two gangsters knew was something unfathomable, a perpetrated act
that would leave a bad taste in the mouths of many should it prove
true. Mendoza was covering all bases, and he’d counseled Doss,
but he had reasons for not revealing all he suspected to key members
of the crew and DeeDee understood. Mendoza Cernigliaro, the last
loyal Italian inside Twenty-third Street Mafia, was laying everything
on the line, willingly putting his own life in danger and testing his
own heart for crew.

DeeDee had his orders—if Mendoza failed to do what needed to be
done should that day ever arrive, he would have the green-light to
end his friend’s life on his own ranch in Montana. What lay
ahead for these two gangsters, would be the ultimate test of loyalty,
and a true assessment of friendship. The legacy of the Chicago Gang’s
storied criminal history would be at stake. DeeDee and Mendoza would
have to make tough decisions in their waning years that would leave a
hallmark for those who will follow, basically instituting in a new
form of loyalty. They would lay the foundation for a new way of doing
business for those who follow in their footsteps. A most treacherous
way of maintaining a crew’s survival for those who had the
gumption and determination to live a life of crime during these
ever-changing times.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

TAPPED

“She’s been snooping around, asking questions, and she
has names,” Special Agent Daniel Jarkowski told JunJie Maruyama
as the two sat inside JunJie’s office on the first floor of his
home located on Mercer Island, just west of Seattle in late September
of 2006, just over a month after Eddie was busted in Granite City,
Illinois.

“How long has she’s known of Montoya Spencer?”
JunJie asked as he slid a stack of hundred dollar bills across his
desk; payoff to the rogue agent for the information he’d given
up.

“For about a year is what she told me. She went down to Vegas
and members of the vice squad gave her all the goods on your guy and
his associate Douglas Hunt. She’s on their ass something good
if you ask me.”

“Indeed she is, my friend,” JunJie replied, never looking
up from the copied files of Lisa Vanguard’s mounting case
against Asa Spade and his crew. “She has their background, does
she know of me?”

“Not yet—but she’s a bulldog. She won’t stop
until she connects all the dots.”

“Where is she now?”

“Back in D.C. trying to raise more funds to get back out here
on the west coast. And she will get it given all the evidence she has
against your man.”

“Did Asa Spade ever talk to this agent?”

“She’s not going to approach Montoya until she’s
ready to make the bust. I suggest you have your guy lay low. Lisa has
surveillance photos and has raised suspicion that Montoya Spencer is
running a criminal enterprise. She will go before a grand jury in
Denver shortly after getting her funds in order to bring charges
against him for conspiracy to run a criminal enterprise.”

“Will there be any witnesses that will testify during the grand
jury proceedings?”

Agent Jarkowski chuckled slightly and pulled a small notepad from the
inside pocket of his suit jacket and wrote down a name. He turned the
paper facedown, and when JunJie reached for it, he pulled it back.
“This here name is worth more than five thousand dollars,
Mister Maruyama,” he said seriously. “This name will send
shockwaves throughout your organization.”

“How much more are you asking for the name?” JunJie asked
as he stood up from his desk and tucked his hands inside his silk
slacks.

“Twenty-thousand dollars.”

“That’s all? You could’ve gone much higher, my
man.” JunJie said as he walked over to his safe.

While JunJie had his back turned, Agent Jarkowski went and stood
behind him. The hard metal pressing against him alerted JunJie to the
fact that a gun was placed to his back. He turned around and looked
down at the chrome piece Jarkowski was gripping and then eyed the man
with a surprised look. “Can’t trust anyone in this
fuckin’ business,” he said lowly.

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jarkowski sighed. “See,
umm, this has been in the works for some time now, Mister Maruyama.
Lisa is on to your crew—it’ll only be a matter of time
before she gets to you. She gets to you, she gets to me and I can’t
allow that to happen. I’ve opted to jump ship because of the
betrayal taking place within your organization.”

“Who was it that sold me out?” JunJie asked angrily.

Agent Jarkowski leaned forward and whispered a name into JunJie’s
ear. Upon hearing the name, JunJie yelled aloud and rushed Jarkowski,
but he wasn’t quick enough to dodge a single round from a .9mm
that slammed into his chest. He fell forward and Jarkowski kicked him
over onto his back and knelt down beside him as he coughed up blood.

“I’ve been doing my own little investigation, my friend,”
Jarkowski said calmly. “Take a look at this photo. As you can
see, I’m not bullshitting when I say betrayal,” he said
as held up a picture of Lisa Vanguard talking to an individual JunJie
was more than familiar with in the business. “Your whole crew
is going down pretty soon. Starting with you,” he ended as he
stood up and shot JunJie in the chest a second time before he stepped
over his body and emptied the safe completely, walking out of
JunJie’s home with over one hundred thousand dollars in cash.

*******

Twenty-nine year-olds Phillip Tran and Grover Kobayashi had just
returned home from
Goddesses
, the strip club JunJie owned, a
few hours after JunJie had been shot. The two headed straight for
JunJie’s office with the days earnings, but were shocked to see
the man lying on the floor before an empty wall safe.