Alfonzo (32 page)

“So what you got?”
Carl
asked in a deep authoritative voice.

Marchese nodded, “
We suspect Gina Palazzo
hired Evan Graham to put a hit on
the
Diaz
kid.
”
H
is brow wrinkled
as he explained the possible motive, “She knows her hus
band Luzo is dying and this street kid
from the barrio may stand to inherit billions.”

“What’s the connection between Luzo and Diaz?”

“Alfonzo is Luzo’s son and his wife doesn’t want the kid to inherit
a dime.”
Marchese frowned, “
K
ill this kid from the ‘hood, no one will
miss him
.
Who’s going to connect a homicide in the inner city of a young Hispanic to a
European businessman
?
It’s the perfect crime if you think about it.
”

Detective Johnson didn’t like to hear this sad fact, however it was true.
In a homicide of
a
young
minority the police often attributed the murder
to
drug or gang
violence without a thorough investigation. The killer relied on lazy policing to help cover his crime.

“
My
partner Winoski is tracking down a lead. An informant claims to know where we
can find
Freddie
.”

“And Evan Graham?”

“We checked his apartment
. H
e’s subletting and we haven’t been able to track him down
, yet but we will
.” Marchese
straightened his spine
, “
We’re
gonna
br
eak this case
and bring Shanda home Carl
.”

Detective Johnson’s smooth brown
skin
creased at the mouth, it was tough trying to
keep his emotions in check with Shanda missing. His wife was distraught and
the family
expected him to bring
her
home, alive.
A huge burden for one man.
With his family in blue working day and night he found hope…believed it might happen…just might.

A detective screamed across the room, “Marchese pick-up line two!”

Winsoki
was
on
line two, “Your friend there yet?”

“
Yeah, what you learn?”

“I got an address over in Queens. Seventy-two-twenty-nine
Forty-Fifth Avenue
,
meet
me in
an
hour.”

“Winoski don’t do
nothing
till we get there!”

She hung-up and Marchese looked at Johnson, “
Winoski’s
heading to Queens
supposedly an address for
Freddie.
” He rose qu
ickly, “Let’s go before she
gets herself killed.”

Marchese really liked Carey, she had spunk
and
smart as a whip.
The playboy looks
were
a
bonus. When the opportunity presented itself he’d
ask her out for a drink.
After the case maybe, h
e didn’t want to
s
care her off
,
he’d keep it simple
. A woman like her
didn’t want complicated. Drinks
,
dinner, sex…see you when I see you type of
woman. He smiled, hey
there’s
nothing wrong with sex without commitment
it
’s
a reoccurring pastime.

***

Domi
nick Fiorello met Gina at the airport. A tall stocky man,
who’s
subtle strands of
grey hair, gave him distinction. He came forward to greet her. “Welcome to New York
again
.” He said.

A man in the shadows appeared and collected her lu
ggage. S
he smiled, “Thank you.”

Dominick led the way through the crowded terminal to their car. She became aware
of figures trailing their every step. Usually, he’d come with only one guard.
Extra protection she supposed.
She
met Dominick years ago at a charity function. Several chance
e
ncounters and
innocent flirtations developed into a discreet affair.
They hadn’t seen one another since his wife’s release from the Betty Ford Clinic
last year and seeing him now stirred fond memories of their dalliance.
His wife’s father was the youngest brother of Frank Monticelli
, her husband’s rival in business
.
Dominick was ambitious, like her
,
but unlike Gina
,
he was willing to wait.
The
Monticelli’s
were
powerful
. To
secure his ascent through the ranks
,
he
remain
ed
discreet
with his affairs
. His
wife’s
family
would never tolerate blatant disrespect of
the
fragile
woman
, therefore Dominick took extreme care.

Dominick grinned, “You always look so beautiful.”

The limousine door was held open and her luggage loaded in the trunk.
“
Thank you for
your help
Dom, truly
.”

Dominick did not answer.
He enjoyed
Gina’s company
and skill
at g
iving sexual pleasure but what she
a
sked was suicidal…for him.
Although, quite
beautiful
she
possessed
a
less than admirable flaw in character, avariciousness and disloyalty
.

“You
should have come to me first before acting against your husband’s son.
”

She looked sharply at him, “How did you know?”

He chuckled, “Oh
Gina
there
isn’t much I don’t know when it comes to America. The FBI
has
questioned all the families about your hit man Freddie. They believe there’s a turf war unfolding
,
nonsense.”

Gina caressed the bulge protruding from his expensive trousers, “
I have missed you.
”

Dominick truly enjoyed her flirtations. He made himself comfortable as her hands unzipped his
trousers. The
privacy petition closed as her head lowered to his lap
and she began to do what his wife refused.
The sensual act made him smile
.
D
ominick pondered
many things as her supple
mouth and tongue brought him pleasure.
The FBI lean
ed
heavily on
his
famil
y as a result of the
botched murders.
Thanks to Gina
they were under
scrutin
y which is never good.
Had she sought coun
sel, he would have warned her to wait, let Luzo die then strike when no one suspected. Women were too impulsive. Emotions ruled.
Dominick
fingered a strand of
blonde hair, tousling it
purposefully because he knew she disliked having one strand out
of place. The sign of someone who preferred control
,
but with him she had no
ne
. To him she was a good lay
,
yet
in business
,
the boardroom was not the bedroom.

Carey
lit a cigarette
as she waited for her partner. Seventy-two-twenty-nine was
a single frame house in Jackson Heights near Broadway.
It was a
culturally diverse and congested neighborhood. Even at this late hour people and cars
passed regularly.
S
irens split the air,
most
likely an ambulance en-route to Elmhurst
Hospital
only
blocks away.
The
inside the house
was dark;
the only source of light a lonely streetlamp illuminating
discarded pieces of litter
at the property’s edge.

Headlights
glowed from
the northwest
erly direction catching her attention and she sat straight. The vehicle parked and she observed Marchese and Detective Johnson get out. Marchese was cute, ruggedly attractive with an Italian swagger that somewhat irritated her. She found him cocky, annoying and sexy molded together.
A quick flash
from her headlights
and they walked in her direction, crossed the
street and
were at the car.
Carey exited
and
Marchese took the cigarette from her hand and tossed it in the street.

“Those
things’ll
kill
ya
.”
He warned.

“Don’t do that again asshole, at
least I get to pick how I die.”

Detective Johnson listened to their playful banter and realized his buddy had it bad for
his sexy blonde partner. He interrupted like a scolding parent, “Hey
guys let’s
not forget why we’re
here.” He looked at Winoski, “What you
have
so far?”

She
sobered,
business
like.
“Freddie
was
seen here
this morning
. An informant says he travels
a lot but comes here often.”

“
Whose
name is the house registered under?”

“I checked
,
the owner is a Mike O’Reilly.”

“An Irish
boy’o
.”
Marchese interjected, he swiveled his body to look over the rundown
frame house.
“Any activity?”

“Nope, just shadows dancing from the streetlights.”

“I’m
gonna
go up and ring the bell. If anybody’s home I’m on official business about a
missing girl. You lovebirds wait here.”

Marchese smirked at Carey who seemed perturbed by the comment.

Detective Johnson crossed the street
with long determined strides.

“You think anyone’s home?” Marchese asked Carey.

“I don’t know asshole.” She lit another cigarette and blew smoke in his face then followed
Detective Johnson.
Who made him Captain?

She’d stay nearby in the event something went down.
Marchese c
an
wait on the sidelines if he
wants
but
I’m not
going to miss any
of the action!

Marchese chuckled then hurried after the pair. Yeah, he and Winoski were destined to
be together.

Nico observed the detect
ives approach
,
and hurried out the b
ackdoor.
In his possession a small black bag containing blueprints, a plane ticket and a picture of
Alfonzo
.
He climbed over the fence to a neighbor’s yard then
hurried across the driveway leading to the street over where his brother sat.
“Got company, let’s go.”

***

The door opened welcoming in a thin strand of light
which
divided the floor in half
and much needed air
.
The girl lay in a fetal position close to the wall.
She hadn’t touched the food
, pity. He wanted her robust and lively. At this rate she’d starve to
death, foolish
girl!

The room smelled of urine, stale food and sweat.
Days
passed since her abduction
and the police search began to wane.
The media were like whores with Attention Deficit Disorder. They already moved on to the next big story.