Alfonzo (11 page)

In the course of the marriage he had several affairs. He
decided
not
to
divorce Gina for purely business
reasons;
she was a great hostess, friends with the wives of many
of his
associates
. A
n ambitious
woman scorned can be a man’s worst enemy
.
To prevent any further cunning, he maintained complete control over her finances by allotting a monthly stipend and restricted access to his business. To further repay her for the duplicity he moved a mistress into his private country estate
and left his wife to the business of socializing.

It’s Maria, the American woman he brought to Italy under false pretenses in which he ha
d
the greatest remorse. He deceived her, had her believe he merely desired a
caretaker for his estate and nothing more. He wooed her kindness, charmed her with his worldly sophistication and ultimately achieved his goal. She came willingly to his bed and stole away with his heart. Such wonderful memories he had of her sweet smile and quick wit. She was a religious woman he corrupted with his lies and when they were unveiled she flew back to America leaving him crushed. He of course, went after her and sought to explain his decept
ion but she refused to listen. Maria….the one I allowed to go…the one regret!

He returned to his life, busying himself with tedious things to forget her.
Time nor
women brought him peace. Then several years ago he modified his will and instructed Alberti to learn her whereabouts. He discovered she was unmarried and owned a modest hair salon. To make amends he flew once more to America.

He sighed from the painful memory.

The once trusting girl grew into a stunning woman. Her shock and displeasure at seeing
him
was
evident.
“What are you doing here?”

The customers were gone and a worker swept the floor feigning disinterest
in the stranger
.
He unfastened his cashmere coat to sit, “I’ve missed you.”

“What have you missed, my foolishness for not seeing your lies?”

The worker continued sweeping.

“
Buenos noche
Elana
, hasta manana.”
Maria said to the woman
as she removed the broom from her hand.

E
lana
nodded, “
Gracias, Buenos noche.”

Once
Elana
exited Maria glared at him, “How dare you come here, what do you want?”

Her English improved.
He folded his arms, “I’ve come to make amends.”

Maria removed her jacket from the closet, “
Vete
,
por
favor!”

He rose and walked to her. “I will always love you
Maria
.”
He said then
turned to leave
and
the
front d
oor opened
. A
young boy entered.

“
Mami
you ready
?”

Luzo stopped to greet the young man
with eyes the color of a clear blue sky
, “Hello.”

The boy nodded,
his mannerisms much older for a boy his age,
“
Yo
, what’s-up
. Mo
m you ready?”

Luzo glanced back at Maria, “
arriverderci
,
”
he said then exited the salon to the tinted car parked at the curb.
H
e saw the truth
and her attempt to conceal it.
The opaque blue eyes like his,
could this be
true
?
The driver-bodyguard waited for his instruction as he settled in his seat but
Luzo’s
mind was elsewhere
,
his eyes fixated on the shop window. He could see
them clearly, mother and son
–his son
.

“Nico?”

“Yes Mr. Palazzo.” The bodyguard answered once he settled behind the wheel.

“You see th
e
boy?”

The bodyguard nodded, “Yes.”

“Let no harm come to him.”

“Yes
, Don Palazzo
.”

“
Water
?”
The nurse asked
anxiously
. Luzo’s
eyes fluttered open to the sound of a plane soaring overhead
and it
end
ed
his reverie
.
Perhaps,
the nurse
thought
I
died
, Luzo smiled
thinking.
A refreshing breeze cleansed the putrid air and
the
smile
grew.
This one was nice. He could tell
such things.
A series of coughs weakened the already frail body and he slumped against the pillow
in pain. The nurse quickly injected him with morphine and rubbed his forehead. “Rest Mr. Palazzo, try to sleep.”

Gratefu
l, he closed his eyes. Tomorrow
Nurse
Gordano
would be added to his will.
For now he was too weary to do more than rest.

Sleep came and he welcomed it.

The
procession of mourners was
covertly watched
by the lone man in
the
rear pew.
Inconspicuous among the throng of
mourners in the old
cathedral
he scanned the faces of the grief-stricken assembly with amusement.

In
Mrs. Jillian’s fifth
grade drama class he had a small role in a play. He played a tree. This was the extent of
his acting career but today’s performance was worthy of an
Academy Award
nomination
. He lowered his head to wipe away a non-existent tear searching for one man
, a
young man fitting a very specific description,
a young man with blue eyes. An important detail omitted by his client.
When he accepted this job he was given a grainy surveillance picture along with an address and name.
He followed the instructions to the letter
. He
went to the address given and witnessed the man emerge from the building and began following him for an entire week.
Had he known the subject moved from the address months ago or had an uncanny resemblance to the man he followed or possessed an unusual eye color for a Latino, he would not have botched the job!

In light of his employers mistake he demanded half a mil more to make the correction. In his line of wo
rk, do-overs did not come cheap.
In this sea of brown
eyes, he maintained vigilance for a young man, six-one, one seventy-five, black hair, a tan complexion and
blue eyes.

H
e swiveled
his head
slowly to the right…searching.
Several w
omen cried uncontrollably
,
others
sat with heads
bowed
as the
organist played a melancholy rendition of Amazing Grace
preceding
the
eulogy. He
decided he
wanted
cremation.
The money
spent on this elaborate funeral must have cost these folks quite a lot of dough.

At the podium surrounding the shiny expensive caskets were large floral arrangements and a huge screen in the backdrop with a timeline of the victim’s life in happier moments.
The man smiling from the deck of a ship; the woman waving at the camera from atop the Grand Canyon, images that reminded everyone of their life and not their gruesome death.

He
listened critically to the priest’s sermon, finding fault with his attribution to God’s Divine Plan. God had no hand in this
deed;
he thought to himself, I did.
When the priest left the dais others came to speak
.
One after the other they streamed, saying wonderful things about the deceased couple. He fidgeted. This was the longest funeral he ever attended and most elaborate.
He saw the girl
when
her head swiveled toward the rear
looking for someone then they traveled to where he sat causing him to lower his head a fraction. Had she recognized him?

S
he turned around and he sighed with relief, unfortunately the excitement of seeing her and the prospect of touching her caused a sudden erection. His hands covered
his crotch to hide the priapism
and he closed his eyes
in meditation
.
When he opened them again the
old
woman
seated nearby gave
him a censured glare.

“What’s wrong
grandma?”

She frowned disapprovingly and slid a few inches away mumbling expletives
in the church
.

He smiled.

Finally, the funeral services ended and the family rose as the pallbearers lifted the caskets and walked solemnly down the aisle toward the large oak doors of the cathedral.

Everyone stood respectfully. There were weeps of anguish which grew louder and louder. They came from a middle-age woman being ushered down the aisle by a young man. He held the grieving woman whispering quietly in her ear. Directly behind him was the young woman clutching the arm of a tall distinguished man in a suit who he immediately recognized as one of the detectives
on the case
;
Detective Johnson…also a friend of the deceased woman.

As the group approached he hunched his body to blend in with those assembled. They moved slowly past like ghosts in a dream looking straight ahead…their eyes upon the double caskets being carried out to the sun.

The young man
’s
head
came up and
searched the faces of the crowd
with
an unreadable expression. His jaw was clenched tightly and his demeanor one of stone. –But the eyes were fiery blue and
in them he saw the look of a young man with a heart of ice
; a
kindred spirit, a killer like himself.
H
e tried to contain his excitement
at the prospect of killing this particular one. The challenge brought
elation
at getting his prey. This was a fun sport, something he took pleasure in doing
. The
prior victims were easy targets
, no challenge at all except the last guy. Yeah, he surprised him.
The man actually s
welled his lip. This kid was his relation
and
younger, physically fit, opposing in stature,
a youth in appearance but a hardened man at the core. Yeah, he’d make sport of this one. This time he’d do it right!

The entire family exited and he followed, nearly colliding with a boy at the end of the aisle.

“Watch out mister!” The boy exclaimed.

He ignored the insolent kid and followed the procession in time to see the man enter
the
limousine.

Yeah, t
his time he’d get it right.

CHAPTER
NINE

Detective
Carey Winoski knocked on the door of apartment 1J. It flew open and a scantily clad girl greeted her.
“Yeah, what the fuck you want pig-bitch?”

Nice.
Carey peered over her shoulder into the cluttered apartment, “Is
Nunzio
here?”

Contempt contorted the youthful face
before she c
ross
ed
her arms
in defiance
, “Why the hell you keep
comin
’ here
askin
’ for my man?”

Carey was unamused by the
pit-bull
act. Street prostitutes were over-protective of their
pimps.
Nunzio
was a low-down crackhead who exploited vulnerable girls, usually
naïve
run-a-ways from the Midwest.

“Tell
Nunzio
I want to speak to him.”

The girl’s hip swayed as she turned with a ‘humph
.
’

Voices filtered into the musty corridor
and the pit-bull was overheard saying
,
“What that bitch
comin
’ here
for
?Don’t
walk away
Nunzio
!