Nunzios way, p.7
Nunzio's Way, page 7
“Mike, what is he talking about?”
Derick said, “I’m telling you what happened.”
“Shut the fuck up, Derick.” Rico said. “Mike. What happened yesterday?”
“Frank and Heather were having lunch at M&M’s,” Mike said.
“So what?” Rico said. “She wants to get close to Angelo’s family.”
“Derick and Domingo went up and asked her why she was with Frank.”
“I was just trying to stop Derick,” Domingo said. “That’s the only reason I was with him.”
“Wait. You guys went up to her and Frank like you knew who she was and asked what they were doing together?” Rico stood up. “You guys did that?”
“Not me,” said Domingo. “Just Derick.”
Mike said, “Derick was upset about his brother being found dead in the park and all, he had a couple of drinks and—”
Rico’s head was exploding. He had to hold the Knights together, at least until Heather killed Nunzio. But his control was slipping and time was running out. “Mike, this all happened in front of Heather and Frank?”
“In front of the whole place,” Mike said. “Frank and Heather were on their feet.”
“That’s when the Roosevelt Street Boys made us look like punks, throwing us out,” Derick said. “We gotta kick their asses.”
“You are punks!” Rico said.
“Not me,” Derick said. “I called Nicky a freak. Domingo didn’t say anything. I ain’t a punk. I ain’t scared of them.”
“Then you’re a stupid punk,” Rico said. “But I’d be more afraid of Heather if I was you. You’re out of the Knights.”
“Wait? What?” Derick asked. “You’re taking her side against one of your own Knights?”
“You ain’t a Knight anymore,” Rico said. “Get off my roof or we’ll throw you off.”
“Fuck all of you! I’m gonna start my own gang,” Derick shouted and stomped away.
“I will talk to Heather. You two let the others know Derick is out,” Rico said.
“He’ll try to take some Knights with him,” Mike said.
“Fine,” Rico said. “Domingo, you got anything to say?”
“Derick ain’t all wrong. Why should you let the Roosevelt Street Boys treat us like that?” asked Domingo. “We can stand up to them.”
“They wouldn’t fight us; they would kill every last one of us.” Rico said. “You don’t know them. My brother Danilo was a Roosevelt Street Boy before the Zara brothers talked him into starting the Knights. Frank and Danny were Roosevelt Street Boys. Remember Johnny, the ghost in the window; he was one of them. Nunzio started the Roosevelt Street Boys back when he was a kid with Father Joe. They are not a gang. They are something else. Anyone with half a brain is smart enough to fear them. You don’t mess with the Roosevelt Street Boys.”
* * *
After spending the day at Coney Island, Angelo, Audrey, Tate, and Gina rode the subway home. Audrey and Gina sat near the exit doors chatting about remaining long distance friends. Angelo and Tate stood looking through the front window as the train screeched into City Hall station.
“Angelo I really think we need guns.”
“Tate, you were the one that said it would change us.”
“That was three years ago, after you beat the Razor.”
“So, all the fights we had since then, two with the Knights and one with the Falcons, we won without guns.”
“I know, Angelo, but it’s different now. The other day I gave a couple of Knights the finger and one of them pointed a gun right at me and laughed.”
“Who?”
“Derick. You know the one whose brother was shot?”
“You worried they’re gonna come at us with guns this time.”
“Angelo, you’re my best friend, I’d take a bullet for you. I ain’t worried about me. I’m worried there’s a storm coming your way, and I won’t be able to stop it. We need guns.”
“I’ll talk to my Uncle Nunzio about getting us a couple.”
“Cool. Here’s our stop.”
The four friends walked along Madison Street. Tate had his arm around Gina and Angelo held Audrey’s hand.
“Ain’t there any way I can talk you out of leaving, Audrey?” Angelo said.
“I’m afraid not. We’ll keep in touch.”
“It’s not about keeping in touch. I love you, Audrey.”
They all stopped in front of Audrey’s building.
“I know, Angelo,” Audrey nodded, and then to Gina, she said, “Can you come in for a minute?”
“Sure,” Gina said.
Angelo and Tate walked to their club.
“I don’t know what to say to her to make her stay. Has Gina said anything to you about Audrey?”
“A little. Like you need to stop asking her to stay.”
“What? I just said I loved her, and she just said, ‘I know.’ What the hell?”
“I heard.”
“So, what’s goin’ on? How do I get her to stay?”
“You can’t, Angelo. Look, think about a girl you don’t like, if she keeps telling you she loves you and wants to go out with you, whadaya think?”
“I think she’s annoying.”
“Right. All them love songs are bullshit. When it’s over, it’s over.”
“Did Audrey tell Gina it’s over? That I’m annoying?”
“No. I’m just sayin’ you need to stop bugging her. Be cool. Cool makes you more attractive to girls. It’s your only shot.”
“She said I’m annoying?”
“No, I’m just saying it’s annoying to keep asking and asking.”
“I’m annoying? Me, I’m annoying?”
“Angelo, I’m saying don’t be annoying, be cool.”
“Maybe if I ask her to marry me, she’ll know how much I love her.”
“No way. Don’t do that. It ain’t about you loving her, she already knows that. Be cool.”
“I don’t know, Tate. Maybe I gotta ask her.”
“No way, Angelo don’t…hey, there’s your uncle’s car in front of Lilly’s. Go ask him.”
“Wait here.”
Angelo ran over to the Cadillac. He talked for less than a minute and returned to Tate.
“So?” Tate said.
“He shrugged and said he’d think about it.”
“Cool.”
Angelo and Tate joined Carl, Bobby, and Howie in chairs in front of the Weeper’s club, and Sammy, the dog, curled at their feet.
“How’s things going with your old man, Angelo?” Howie said.
“He was great when he came home three years ago, but lately he’s back to being an asshole.”
“How come?” Carl asked.
“I don’t know. Probably drinking and remembering that he doesn’t like me.”
“Sorry, pal,” Tate said. “Why don’t you talk to his brother or Father Joe?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Chapter Twelve: Mine is bigger
Heather felt safe but confined in her apartment. She was thinking about Frank. Good lord, can I be falling for him? How would that work?
Rico called. He said they had to talk and suggested dinner at 7:00 at the East Harlem Diner uptown. He said he would pick her up. Instead, she said she would meet him there. Heather didn’t want to go, but knew she still needed Rico. She took her silenced gun.
She walked along Market Street to her Chevy. She got in, moved her seat forward, rolled down her window and saw Derick leaning against the burgundy brick walls of Knickerbocker Village, staring at her. He walked toward her, arms limp at his sides, but in his right hand was a gun. She smiled. Her gun was now in her lap. “Why Derick, it’s nice to see you again,” she said as he appeared on the sidewalk next to her car.
“It ain’t nice to see you. I’m out of the Knights because of you.”
“How long have you been standing there waiting for me?”
“A while.”
“I’m flattered.” Heather continued to smile.
“I knew Rico would want to meet you so I waited by your car.”
“You’re a clever little wanker, aren’t you?”
Derick was now near her window. “What’s a wanker?”
“Is that a gun in your hand?”
“It was my brother’s gun.”
“It’s a tiny gun. May I see it?” Heather said.
“It’s a .25 automatic. You can see it from there.” Derick took several steps back and held the gun up sideways. “It has a pearl handle my brother put on.”
“I see. A pearl handle is pretty, but if your hand sweats, it’s slippery. Anyway, mine is bigger.” Heather pointed her silenced Beretta at Derick.
“Whoa. You killed my brother, didn’t you?”
“Ask him.” She shot Derick once in the chest.
Derick fell back against the brick wall and slid down into a sitting position. He was stunned. His gun lay on the sidewalk next to him.
“You should shoot me back with your tiny gun.”
“It burns and hurts.” Derick looked surprised. He took his bloody hand off his chest and reached for his gun.
“Ta ta, wanker.” Heather aimed for a second, then shot him in his forehead. Derick fell sideways, dead still. She needed to put a new silencer on her gun. Her second shot was too loud. Heather looked up and down the street. It was clear. She took one more look at Derick. She felt nothing but accurate and drove away.
* * *
Rico was seated at a booth in the rear of the East Harlem Diner. Heather walked up to the booth and sat down.
“The burgers here are the best in the city,” Rico said.
“How do you know?”
“I know the owner.”
“Well then, of course, they must be the best.” Heather smirked.
“You two ready to order or what?” asked the waitress walking up to them.
“Sadie, ain’t these the best burgers in the City?” Rico asked.
“Yeah,” Sadie said. “I checked yesterday with every place and these are the best. So, what do you want?”
“Cheeseburger, fries, and coffee,” Rico said.
“Two eggs over hard, bacon, toast, and coffee,” Heather said.
“I’ll bring the coffee now.” Sadie walked away.
“Breakfast for dinner?”
“Is that okay with you?”
“It’s fine; I’m just breaking your shoes a little. Just playing.”
“Brilliant.” Heather shook her head.
“Listen, we need to talk about Derick,” Rico said. “What he did yesterday will never happen again. I promise.”
“I know. He’s dead.”
“What?”
“He’s dead on the sidewalk where my car was parked. He had a gun but was too slow.”
“He had a gun?”
“A .25 automatic.”
“A .25 automatic?”
“Are you just going to repeat what I say?” Heather said. “Yes, with a pearl handle.”
“I think that was his brother’s gun.”
“That’s what he said.”
“What else did he say?”
“He said it burns and hurts.” Heather smiled as the coffee arrived.
“I’ll make a call,” Rico said. “To get some of the guys to pick up his body.”
“Rico, the cops will find the body and think it was the Roosevelt Street Boys.”
“But the Knights will want more. They will want to do something.”
“That’s something their leader could handle, isn’t it?” Heather said.
Chapter Thirteen: Shoot the rock off the guy’s shoulder
Nunzio and Father Joe sat on a wooden bench in City Hall Park, each feeding pigeons from small, brown paper bags as they had done so many times as kids. Three of Nunzio’s men sat on benches across the footpath.
“So, Lanzo is dead.” Nunzio said. “Shot dead on his birthday at his favorite trattoria.”
“I’m sorry, my friend.”
“Do the cops know who did it?” Nunzio asked as he tossed peanuts to the birds at their feet.
“The police think there were two witnesses, the bartender and a waitress. The bartender told the cops that he opened the trattoria and saw Lanzo with his newspaper, but not his breakfast. The waitress serving Lanzo was gone. Now, the bartender skipped too, and the police are looking for both.”
“You can bet Lanzo’s Cammora are looking for them, too. Makes no sense. Lanzo was high-up Camorra, but not a boss, and he was leaving.”
“I’ll try to find out more,” Father Joe said.
“No, Joe, this is my business, not for you, my friend.” Nunzio said. “That poor waitress must be scared to death.”
“You okay?”
“It’s all part of my business. It is what I do,” Nunzio said. I’ve got some tickets for Bye Bye Birdie at the Shubert for Frank and his family. Ride over there with me.”
“Sure, Boss.”
“Pepe, let’s go to Lilly’s,” he said to his driver on the bench across the way.
* * *
Angelo and Tate sat in chairs in front of the Weepers’ storefront, watching as Satan’s Knights gathered in the projects across Catherine Street. Domingo and another Knight crossed the street and walked toward them. Domingo put a small rock on his own shoulder and walked right up to Angelo.
“Go ahead. Knock the rock off my shoulder, punk,” Domingo said.
Angelo took the rock off Domingo’s shoulder, looked at it, and handed it back to Domingo. “Here.”
“Are you stupid or what?” Domingo said as he put the rock back on his shoulder. “You know what to do.”
Before Angelo could respond, a 1961 black Cadillac Fleetwood sedan stopped in front of the Weepers’ clubhouse. Uncle Nunzio and Father Joe stepped out with Pepe and two other men.
“What’s going on, Angelo?” Uncle Nunzio said.
“Domingo wants me to knock the rock off his shoulder.”
“Oh, yeah? Pepe…do this guy a favor and shoot the rock off his shoulder,” Nunzio said.
“Sure, Boss.” Pepe pulled out a .38 Colt Special and pointed it at Domingo.
“Wait up!” Domingo knocked the rock off his own shoulder.
“Didn’t I tell you punks to leave Angelo alone?” Nunzio said, taking a step toward them.
“Yeah, sorry, Mr. Sabino. We’re gone.” The two Knights crossed the street back to the projects.
Frank and Heather walked out of Lilly’s to see what was going on.
“Whoa, you’re the babysitter,” Angelo said to Uncle Nunzio.
“Babysitter?” Uncle Nunzio said. “Whadda you talkin’ about?”
“I had a fight with some Knights in Mo-Mo’s a couple of weeks ago. No big deal,” Angelo said. “But when Domingo was leavin’ he said something like, ‘once your babysitter is gone, I’m gonna mess you up bad.’ I didn’t think nothin’ of it. But just now, I don’t know, do you think the Knights are planning to kill you, Uncle Nunzio?”
“Good thinking, kid,” Uncle Nunzio said. “Pepe, pick up that Domingo kid tomorrow. Maybe he’s just blowing smoke, or maybe…who knows.”
“Will do, Boss.”
“Why would the Knights want to kill you?” Heather asked.
“Who are you?” Uncle Nunzio said.
“Boss, this is my girl, Heather,” Frank said.
“Nice to meet you.” Uncle Nunzio handed an envelope to Frank. “Here’s a dozen good seats for Bye Bye Birdie for you, your girlfriend, your sister, whoever else you want.”
“Speaking of girlfriends, Angelo,” Tate said. “Here comes Audrey and her father.”
“You and Audrey should come to the play with us, Angelo,” Frank said.
“That would be cool.”
“Hi, Angelo.” Audrey gave him a hug. “My dad wants to tell you something.”
“Angelo, I am sorry for what I said to you.” Mr. Vadunka held out his hand to Angelo. “I was drunk. None of what I said was true. You’re a fine young man and my daughter is lucky to be dating you.”
Angelo shook his hand, surprised but pleased.
Mr. Vadunka turned to Uncle Nunzio and bowed.
“Good,” said Uncle Nunzio. “Show up for work tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sabino.” Mr. Vadunka turned and walked away alone.
“Does this mean you’re gonna stay?” Angelo asked Audrey.
“No. I’m leaving tomorrow morning. It just means he gets his job back. He lost his job because of what he said to you.”
Angelo panicked. “Audrey, we can get married and live with my parents, until I….”
Audrey’s eyes emptied. “Stop, Angelo! It’s settled. I’m leaving tomorrow morning. Let’s just try to enjoy tonight.”
Chapter Fourteen: Submarine Races
Rico and Heather drove separately to Battery Park in Lower Manhattan. Rico parked his car and joined Heather in her car. Heather didn’t like these meetings, but it was clear Rico needed close and constant supervision. And this was important.
“Domingo told Angelo your Knights are planning to kill Nunzio.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“I heard Angelo tell Nunzio.”
“He told Nunzio?”
“You’re repeating me again.”
“When did he tell him?”
“Yesterday.”
“Holy shit! What did Nunzio say?”
“He told his guys to pick up Domingo.”
“They’ll beat everything out of Domingo,” Rico said. “We gotta get him out of the state, maybe even out of the country.”
“Let’s talk about that, but first tell me what you found out about Mac. Where does he go after work?”
“Mac has a girlfriend. They watch the submarine races on Thursday nights under the East River Drive.”
“So, tonight?”
“Yeah, I guess so,” Rico said.
“Okay. Good. Then tonight,” Heather said. “This is brilliant. Domingo steals a car, and he drives, while I’m in the shotgun seat. You follow us in your car. Domingo pulls alongside Mac and his girlfriend, my window facing the driver. I kill Mac, his girlfriend, and then Domingo. We leave in your car. Mac is dead and the Domingo problem is gone.”
