Sal Gabrini: Just The Way You Are (20 page)

 
Sal stared at Tommy.
 
“But why would God help me?
 
I don’t deserve His help.”

Tommy
frowned.
 
“Who does?
 
Name me one person who does?”

“Gemma,” Sal
said.
 
“Trina.
 
Grace.
 
Big Daddy’s wife Jenay.
 
Mick’s
wife Roz.
 
Jimmy.
 
You.
 
Even Reno on a good day.”

Tommy
smiled.
 
“We’ve all come short of God’s
glory, too, Sal,” he said.
 
“None of us
deserve His grace.
 
That’s why we pray.
 
That’s why we believe.
 
Only God can help us now.”

They heard
the sound of footsteps hurrying out onto the terrace.
 
When they turned to the sound, Reno was
hurrying toward them.

Sal sat up
fast.
 
“What is it, Ree?” he asked.

“We’ve got a
line on that woman Rudy claims snatched Junior.”

Sal and
Tommy both jumped up.
 
“Who?” Sal asked.

Gemma,
returning from the bathroom and seeing a glimpse of Reno run past, hurried out
onto the terrace too.
 
“What happened?”
she anxiously asked.

“They know
the woman who took the baby from the hospital,” Sal said to his wife.

“Who?” Gemma
asked, looking at Reno.
 
They all were
looking at Reno.

“Her name is
Nalla Moss.
 
She’s a madam that used to
work for Rudy.
 
She used to round up
girls for him.”

“So where is
she?” Sal asked.
 
“Do we know where she
is?”

“Oh, yeah,”
Reno said with satisfaction on his face.
 
“Big Joe tracked her down.
 
She’s
outside in Gemma’s Aston-Martin.”

Sal was
about to jump out of his skin.
 
Tommy and
Reno began running off of the terrace, to go and check the woman out, and Sal
was about to take off too.
 
But he remembered
Gemma.
 
He turned to her.
 
“Keep your ass up here,” he ordered her.
 
“Don’t try to run down those stairs and
injure yourself.
 
You wait here.”
 
Then he squeezed her arms.
 
“We’re find our child, Gem,” he said.
 
“You keep praying and God is going to help us
find our child.
 
I’m the wrong kind of
man, and I don’t deserve His help, but I’m praying our child does.”

Gemma began
to shed tears.
 
“Go,” she said.
 
“And be careful!”

And Sal took
off too.
 
Gemma felt relief wash over
her.
 
She couldn’t explain it, but she
felt relief.
 
She knew their child was in
good hands with a father like Sal.

Nalla Moss
sat on the backseat of Gemma’s car and Reno and Tommy were already sitting
beside her, sandwiching her in.
 
Sal got
in and sat on the front passenger seat, and then turned toward her.
 
Reno and Tommy knew Sal had to lead the
interrogation.
 
Sal was a major mob boss,
whether he wanted to admit it to them or not.
 
He had more experience at this kind of shit than both of them combined.

The first
thing Sal noticed, however, was how badly Nalla Moss had already been
beaten.
 
Her eyes were practically shut
from the beating.
 
She did not come
quietly, Big Joe had to work her over pretty good to get her here, and he was
glad.
 
That meant she was ready to
talk.
 
That mean she understood they
weren’t fucking with her.

“Where’s my
son?” Sal asked her.

She shook
her head.
 
She was in pain and appeared
to be on the verge of giving up rather than giving in.

“Where’s my
son?” he asked again.

When she
continued to shake her head, as if he was going to just let her go quietly into
that good night, he took his fist and hit her upside her head.
 
The pain jarred her.
 
“Where’s my son?” he asked her for the third
time.

“I don’t
know!” she cried.

“You took
him from the hospital?” Sal asked.

She
nodded.
 
“Yes.”

“For who?”

“Rudy
Balotti.”

“Then what
happened?”

“I turned
him over.
 
Like I was supposed to.”

“You turned
my son over to who?”

She paused.

“To who
motherfucker?” Sal yelled.

“To
Sinatra.
 
Like I was supposed to.
 
He’s got the kid.”

Sal, Tommy,
and Reno all felt the sting.
 
Mick was
involved after all?
 
But Sal still didn’t
believe it.
 
“Did you see it with your
own two eyes,” he asked, “or is this just shit Rudy told you?”

“I saw it
for myself,” Nalla said.
 
“Rudy didn’t have
to tell me.”

“Are you
telling us,” Tommy said, “that Mick Sinatra personally came to Rudy’s place and
took the baby?”

Nalla
frowned.
 
“Who said anything about Mick
Sinatra?”

“You did!”
Reno roared.

“I
didn’t!”
 
Nalla tried to roar back.
 
“Joey is the one that took him.”

But it was
the name Sal was stuck on.
 
Tommy and
Reno too.
 
“Joey?” Reno asked.
 
“What Joey?”

“Joey
Sinatra,” Nalla Moss said.

All three
men were stunned.
 
“Joey Sinatra?” Sal
asked.
 
“Mick Sinatra’s son?”

Nalla
nodded.
 
“He’s the one we gave the kid
to,” she said.
 
“Rudy said he bet Mick
the Tick was behind it all, given that his son was the one taking possession of
the kid, and he said it was because of some vendetta he had with you.”
 
She was nodding toward Sal.
 
“But Joey never said that.
 
He just paid up and took the kid.”

It was
sobering news. They would have preferred to hear that Jimmy Hoffa took the kid
than to hear that Mick the Tick’s son took him.
 
Because now they had to deal with Mick again.
 
Now they had to hope and pray that Mick
wasn’t still so pissed with them that he refused to help them out.
 
Because if Mick didn’t help them out, and
they went to war with his son, they might as well be going to war with Mick
himself.
 
A war that all three men knew,
now that they knew and loved Mick and knew exactly what he was capable of, they
could not win.

After
getting out of the car and ordering Big Joe to dispose permanently of Nalla
Moss, Sal, Reno, and Tommy prepared to make a trip.
 
And it wasn’t a trip to Bountiful.
 
It wasn’t even a trip to Mick Sinatra’s
house.
 
They were heading to Mick the
Tick’s territory.

Mick Sinatra
stood behind his desk on the top floor of the Sinatra Corporate Headquarters building
in Philadelphia, and read over the agreement for his final approval.
 
The senior management who ironed out the deal
all stood around his desk in nervous anticipation.
 
It could go either way with Sinatra, and they
knew it.

To their
relief, it went as they had hoped.
 
He
signed.
 
They wanted to high-five and pat
themselves on the back, but they knew he didn’t play that.
 
They received the signed contract, thanked
him in as dignified a voice as they could, and then hurried out.
 
Mick smiled when he heard them let out yelps
of joy once they left his office.
 
Everybody behaved as if he was some hard, unforgiving ogre.
 
Everybody behaved as if they had to suppress
all emotions around him.
 
He didn’t play,
they were right about that.
 
But he was
nothing like the heartless monster they took him for.

He looked at
his watch.
 
He needed to call it a
day.
 
Roz had been working in New York,
under tight security, and had taken the twins with her.
 
Now that his family was back, he couldn’t
wait to get home to them.
 

He grabbed
his briefcase and left the building.
 
By
the time he was walking out of the building, Sal, Reno, and Tommy were walking
up the steep steps to head inside.
 
When
they saw Mick at the top of those steps, they stopped.
 
Gone was his black trousers and black
turtleneck and long, flowing overcoat.
 
He now wore a dark suit, a dark tie, and dark shades, and he carried,
not a gun at his side, but a briefcase.
 
He was the founder and CEO of Sinatra Industries, a man greatly feared
in the business world as well as the underworld.
 
Sal carried the same rep, as well as Reno and
Tommy.
 
But with Mick, like everything,
it seemed to be on a different level.

“Here goes,”
Sal said as they began walking up the steps again to meet him.

“He looks so
different,” Tommy said as they walked up.
 
“
Men in Black
comes to mind.”

“Or the
Blues Brothers
,” Reno said, and Tommy
suppressed a smile.

But when
they thought about why they were there, all gaiety was gone.
 
This was a matter of life and death.
 
Sal’s child’s life or death.

And when
they arrived near the top where Mick had stopped walking and was waiting on
them, Sal took that final walk up to the top step beside Mick.
 
Mob boss to mob boss.
 
Men suddenly appeared, and they all knew they
were Mick’s men at the ready, just in case.
 
But Sal still didn’t mince his words.
 
“I believe Joey is the Sinatra who took my child,” he said.

Mick stared
at him with a look that could cower a lion.
 
But it didn’t cower Sal.
 
“You
either take us to him,” he said, “or we’ll go and get him ourselves.”

“Like hell
you will,” Mick said.

“Like hell I
will,” Sal said.

Mick and Sal
stared at each other.
 
Reno and Tommy
were at the ready too, just in case.

But Mick
understood the stakes.
 
“This information
about my son,” he said.
 
“Is it reliable?”

There was no
way they could be certain.
 
Nalla Moss
could have been lying through her teeth.
 
But even if she was, it was all they had.
 
“Yes,” Sal responded.

Mick
continued to stare at him.
 
He knew
reliability was in the eye of the beholder, and they could be selling him a
bill of goods.
 
But he also knew he had
children of his own, and he would go through the fire for them too.

He began
walking down the steps.
 
Sal, Reno, and
Tommy followed him.
 
A limo pulled up
just as they made it to the bottom step, the chauffeur opened the door, and
Mick stepped aside and allowed his relatives, all three powerful men, to get in
first.

The limo
drove up the steeped driveway that led to a large suburban home.
 
“This is Joey’s place?” Reno asked.

“Yep,” Mick
said.

“It’s
nice.
 
You bought it for him?”

“He bought
it for himself.”

All three
men looked at Mick.
 
“How?” Sal
asked.
 
“What’s he got going that he
didn’t have going last time I saw him?”

Mick didn’t
respond to that.
 
He knew what, and was
eternally angry with Joey about it, but that wasn’t their business.

The
limousine stopped around the horseshoe driveway, and Mick, Sal, Reno, and Tommy
all got out.
 
Sal and gang began heading
toward the front door, but Mick walked to the trunk of the limo, pulled out a
long chain, wrapped part of it around his fist, and then led them to the front
door.
 
Only he didn’t knock.
 
He swiped his key, and walked right in.

Joey
Sinatra, the youngest of Mick’s older children, was in the foyer, as if he was
coming to see who had driven up.
 
When he
saw his father, and the men behind his father, he stopped in his tracks.
 
“How did you get a key to my house?” he asked
his father.

Mick broke
away from the others and headed straight for Joey.
 
Although he appeared conservative in his attire,
he was not there in any capacity as the good father.
 
To Joey’s misfortune, that no-nonsense,
take-no-prisoners Mick the Tick had shown up.

“Where is
he?” he asked his son as he approached him.

“Where’s
who?” Joey asked, as if he was completely dumbfounded.

Mick took
his chain clad fist and sailed it across his son’s face, causing his son to
fall sideways.
 
The very idea that he
would bring this shame to Mick’s name enraged him.
 
He slung Joey up from the ground and held him
by the catch of his t-shirt.
 
“Where is
he?” he asked again.

But as soon
as Joey realized he was cornered, he did what every wounded animal tried to
do.
 
He made a run for it.
 

He broke
away from his father’s grasp and ran.
 
He
ran as fast as he could toward the back of his home.
 
Sal, Tommy, and Reno gave chase too.
 
But Mick led the charge and was on his son
before his son could even make it out the backdoor.
 
He slung his son back and threw him against
the wall.

“Where is
Sal’s son, Joey?” Mick demanded with a booming voice.
 
“Don’t fuck with me or I’ll kill your
motherfucking ass!
 
You tell me
where!”
 

 
Even Sal knew Mick meant every word.
 
Joey had to know.
 
And he did.
 
He was so terrified he was trembling.
 
“Nobody was supposed to find out,” Joey said.

Mick slammed
him against the wall.
 
“Where is the
boy?” he yelled.

Joey began
to cry.
 
“I was going to put him on the
black market, that’s all.
 
So I could get
some big money and get out of the game.
 
The cops are breathing down my neck and I knew I had to get out.
 
You won’t help me.
 
You just want to put me back in some mailroom
barely making enough money to pay my rent.”

Sal was
jumping out of his skin.
 
“Where’s my
son?” he asked angrily.
 
“Who the fuck
cares about your problems?
 
Where’s my
son?”

“I was going
to get all kinds of offers,” Joey said to his father, ignoring Sal.
 
“Millions of dollars.
 
Taking a kid like that, with enemies like
Sal’s, was going to make me rich.
 
It was
the only way I knew how to get some fast cash and get out,” Joey said.
 
“You wouldn’t help me.”

Mick slammed
him again. “Where is the boy?” he said.

“Upstairs!”
Joey finally said, but before he could get the word out completely, Sal and
Tommy were already running up those stairs.
 
Reno remained downstairs, just in case.

Upstairs,
Sal and Tommy ran from room to room.
 
They were on the opposite side of the house, going in and out of rooms,
when they heard what they knew was a faint, very faint cry.
 
A baby’s cry.

They turned,
realized where the sound was coming from, and ran across the landing to what
appeared to be a closet.
 
Tommy pulled
out his gun, as Sal swung open the door.
 
When he saw a small baby boy, a biracial baby boy that immediately
reminded Sal of Tommy when Tommy was a little boy, he fell to his knees.
 
He was laying eyes on his son for the very
first time.
 
His heart was pounding out
of his chest.
 
He didn’t think he would
make it.
 
“Pick him up, Tommy,” he said
to his big brother.
 
“I’m too
excited.
 
I’m too nervous.
 
I don’t want to hurt him.”

Tommy
quickly put his gun away, and reached for the little boy.
 
When he picked him up and put him in his
arms, the child stared at Tommy as if he was staring at somebody familiar.
 

Sal didn’t
hesitate.
 
Still on his knees, still too
excited to breathe right, he pulled out his cellphone and called Gemma.

“Are you
okay?” were the first words out of Gemma’s mouth when she answered the phone.

“I’m
fine.
 
Our baby’s fine too, Gem.”

“What?”
Gemma asked excitedly.
 
Sal could imagine
the look on her beautiful face.

“We found
him, Gem.
 
We have him right here!”

“Oh, Sal!”
Gemma cried, and then she screamed for Trina.
 
“Tree!
 
Tree!
 
They found him!
 
Sal found him!”

“I’ll call
you back with the details,” Sal said to her.

“But you’re
alright?” Gemma asked.
 
“You and the baby
are both alright?”

“We’re alright.
 
Everything’s fine.
 
I’ll call you.”

And when he
ended the call, he stood up.
 
He was
still nervous.
 
He was still
excited.
 
But he knew he had to do it.
 
He had to feel his son, brought forth out of
the wound of the woman he loved, in his arms.
 
He retrieved the baby from Tommy, and held Salvatore Luciano Gabrini,
Jr., for the very first time.

What Sal
loved most about that moment was when the baby looked at him with big,
expectant eyes.
 
The baby not only stared
at Sal as if he was familiar too, but he smiled and touched Sal’s face.
 
Sal smiled too, and cried.
 
He bounced the baby and let his tears
flow.
 
It was the greatest feeling he
could have ever felt.

And even as
they made their way back downstairs, and Reno ran to see the child in Sal’s
arms, Sal knew there was unfinished business.
 
He handed the baby to Tommy, and made his way over to that bastard
Joey.
 
He wanted to kill that
motherfucker.

But Mick
moved in front of his son.
 
It was a
moment of reckoning.
 
Mick killed Sal’s
son.
 
Mick killed Rudy.
 
But they both knew he had no choice.
 
Sal, they both knew, did.

“Take your
son and leave,” Mick said.
 
“This is my
responsibility.
 
I’ll handle him.”

Sal stared
at Mick.
 
Any other man who would have
kidnapped his son would be dead.
 
No questions
asked.
 
Dead.
 
But Mick let him handle Rudy the time Rudy
set them up and tried to kill Mick.
 
Sal
knew he had to return the favor.
 
It was
painful.
 
He wanted to hurt Joey
something fierce.
 
But he respected
Mick.
 
He knew Mick would handle it.