Dirty Deeds (17 page)

Read Dirty Deeds Online

Authors: Armand Rosamilia

Tags: #Humor & Entertainment, #Humor, #Satire, #Literature & Fiction, #Humor & Satire, #Humorous, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Mystery, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Crime, #Kidnapping, #Organized Crime, #Spies & Politics, #Assassinations, #General Humor, #Crime Fiction

BOOK: Dirty Deeds
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I kept my split lip shut. Pointing out another ironic thing he’d said wasn’t going to help my case.
This
guy didn’t tolerate a thief? Seriously?

Chenzo stopped pacing and stared at me, the knife moving back and forth in his hands now.

“I’m going to kill you quickly. I’ve decided. No torture, no fanfare. Would you prefer a bullet to the head or pushed off a building?”

It took me a second to realize he wasn’t trying to be funny. He was giving me a choice.

“Honestly, I’d much rather you hugged me until it hurt.” I needed to make my play right now before it was too late. “Besides. . . Little Chenzo isn’t dead.”

My words slowly sunk in and Chenzo’s eyes flickered.

“I know where he is, too.” Sort of. “Call my assistant. She’s been following him for the past couple of days. Marisa can get your son here. He’s in New York last I heard.”

“If you’re bluffing I will change my offer and punish you for days, one bone at a time. Is that understood?” Chenzo asked.

“I swear. Your boy is alive but scared. I’ve had him tailed but I was busy getting beaten up by a killer and then your goons – nothing personal – and haven’t been able to follow up,” I said.

“Where’s his phone?” Chenzo asked. One of his men handed it to the boss. He held it up. “I’m going to call your assistant. Put it on speaker phone. If I think you’re speaking in any code I’ll cut your throat so you can’t speak but you can’t die just yet.”

I simply nodded and hoped against hope Marisa had found Will Black again. If she said she still hadn’t located the guy, Chenzo might realize he didn’t need me anymore and kill me right here and right now. I needed to do some praying.

Marisa answered on the first ring and when I said hi she got quiet. I never used speaker phone. I didn’t really know how, either.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully. I’m hanging out with some friends in Jersey right now. They’re inquiring about Will Black. . . Little Chenzo. They need to know his whereabouts. Right now,” I said.

“I have eyes on him, boss,” Marisa said.

She’d said boss. She knew my Jersey reference and knew I was in trouble. I hoped she wasn’t trying to bluff to save my life, or she’d bring a world of hurt to herself, too.

“I need to know where he is right now,” Chenzo said loudly.

Marisa said an address in Weehawken. Will was in New Jersey.

Chenzo pointed at two of his men. “Go get my son and bring him back.” He turned to me. “I’m sick of threatening you, so for your sake I hope this is legit. I’ll send my men to meet with your watcher and then your team goes away. Got it?”

“I understand,” Marisa said. “I’ll let them know to keep a visual until your men arrive.”

Chenzo stepped behind me and I closed my eyes. He didn’t need my help anymore and I was of no further use to him.

When the rope around my wrists was loosened I opened my eyes.

Chenzo smiled at my confused look.

“We’re going to have a nice lunch while we wait. You said you wanted spaghetti and meatballs? You won’t find it better in any restaurant on the east coast.”

His goons led me upstairs.

* * * * *

I’d finished a second massive plate of pasta and sucked up the last of the sauce – Chenzo insisted on calling it gravy but I wasn’t going to argue – with the last piece of warm bread when Will Black/Little Chenzo appeared with a smile.

Chenzo and son stared at one another for a long moment, sizing the other up.

“Is it really you?” Chenzo asked.

Will nodded slowly. “Dad?”

Father and son hugged and I admit I got a little teary-eyed at the emotional scene.

“Are you hungry?” Chenzo asked.

“I’m starving. I’ve been followed for days without a break. I thought the cops were trying to grab me and use me against you,” Will said.

Chenzo snapped his fingers and the waitress ran to get more food for the table.

I wondered if now would be the time to thank Chenzo for the meal and excuse myself.

“This is James Gaffney. He helped me find you. It was his men shadowing you these past few days. He knew you were still alive and I am in his debt,” Chenzo said.

I stood and shook Will’s hand.

The guy had a hand on his dad’s shoulder and was grinning. He finally sat down in the booth. Chenzo slid in next to him.

I remained standing, wondering how I should phrase my next question so I didn’t end up back downstairs and tied to a chair.

Chenzo looked amused. “Did you enjoy your meal?”

“Delicious.” I patted my gut. “After a meal like this you need a nap.”

“I’ll put the word out,” Chenzo said.

Three waitresses came over, pouring wine into empty glasses and putting down another loaf of hot bread. I toyed with the idea of sitting back down and further stuffing myself but didn’t think it wise.

I had no idea what word he’d put out or if it was a good thing.

Chenzo saluted me with his wine glass.

“I thank you, Mister Gaffney. I trust this will all remain between us.”

“Of course.”

“I owe you for finding my son. You owe me for what you’ve done. I think we call this even,” Chenzo said.

“I’m fine with it.” I didn’t want to ask what I’d done.

“We’ll keep in touch. A man with your unique skill-set is a valuable commodity to a man such as myself. Do you understand what I’m saying?” Chenzo asked.

“Very much so.” We were even but I was still in his debt and would be doing some bad things for The Family in the near future. I couldn’t win.

“I’ll have a rental pulled around. Drop it off at the airport on your way out of town. I’ll be in touch.” Chenzo turned to his smiling son. “We have some catching up to do.”

TWENTY-ONE

I was not surprised Keane had found me again. He walked up just as I dropped off the rental car and was making my way to the airport terminal.

I knew by the look on his face I was going to miss my flight. We’d come full circle, and he was out to get me and make my life harder. Missing a plane was going to be a bonus for Keane again.

“Agent Keane. So nice to see you again,” I said.

I was glad he was alone. The last time he’d been accompanied by FBI goons they’d wanted to kill me.

He studied my face for way too long and a grin crept into the corners of his mouth.

“I fell down in the shower,” I said.

“I had no idea showers had large fists.”

“Can I help you, Reggie? I’m trying to get on a flight for home,” I said.

“Tell Marisa to call in a new one. I need to go somewhere private and talk with you for a few minutes.” Keane held up a manila envelope in his hand. “This might take us awhile.”

I doubted it. I knew whatever was in the envelope was just the start of our meeting, and the frying pan to the face was going to be a focus point. I didn’t think it prudent to bring up the bruise on his face, though.

Keane led me through the inner workings of the airport, past security which looked like they’d been expecting him. I got an uneasy feeling, waiting to be arrested at any moment.

“Hey, Reggie, I’m sorry about the frying pan,” I said lamely.

Keane grunted but kept walking. We ended up in front of a door and Keane opened it and stepped inside.

I followed – what choice did I have at this point? – ready to be thrown to the ground and handcuffed. Instead, it was a small room with only two chairs and an overhead light.

“Have a seat,” Reggie said.

I did as I was told.

“Don’t you want to offer me a soda or a smoke before you interrogate me?” I asked. I was annoyed I’d miss my flight. I just wanted to get home after the last few days, arrive in Atlanta and get something to eat before an early bedtime. I guess it was too much to ask.

Keane tapped on the envelope but didn’t open it.

“I heard you’ve been a busy man,” Keane said. “There’s a dead body in a loft in Manhattan. Your blood on the carpet in the hall. Sightings of you with Chenzo’s goons and a clandestine meeting of the man in the basement of one of his front restaurants. Yet. . . here you are. Alive and kicking. It makes a guy wonder.”

I leaned forward and smiled through cracked lips and chipped teeth.

“Funny, but I could say the same about you. Stomping around in FBI headquarters with so many of your fellow agents tied into Chenzo and bad dealings. Yet. . . here you are. Alive and making me miss a flight.”

“I put in my notice,” Keane said and held my gaze.

I had nothing to say, seriously in shock.

Keane sighed. “I threw everyone under the bus and some of them went down for it. But not all. There are too many agents on the take, and it extends too high up the food chain for me to do any long-lasting good. I knew it was time to get out or they’d force me out. Honestly, I don’t know if I can trust anyone right now. I’ve been put on administrative leave until I retire. I took my pension and gold watch and a shoe box full of memories already.”

“This is a setup, right?” There was no way Keane would quit the FBI, unless I’d mistaken him for a different guy all these years.

He shook his head. “I’m done. I’ll need to find something else to do.”

“Then why are we here? Is this one last attempt to get a full confession from me? Get me to clear your conscience about a few things over the years?” I asked.

He unclasped the envelope.

“This is my one last thing to do for myself. I know I’ll never get you to admit whatever it is you really do with these children, but I somehow know it was never as bad as I thought. Especially with what I know now,” Keane said and handed it over.

I reluctantly opened it, expecting to find images of me doing horrible things or something I’d have to explain before he arrested me.

Inside the envelope was a sheet of paper and when I pulled it out and stared at it, nothing made much sense. I finally looked up at Keane and furrowed my eyebrows.

“The DNA test came back for the body washed up on the beach in Mass. I was able to intercept it before it became official or anyone else in the FBI saw it,” Keane said.

“Any chance you stop being cryptic and tell me what I’m supposed to see?”

Keane pointed down towards the bottom.

“The body found is one hundred percent the real Will Black. Chenzo’s son is dead.”

“Then who did I meet in the basement of a restaurant?” I asked.

Keane shook his head.

I pulled out my phone and dialed Marisa. While it rang I looked at Keane. “You got plans for this evening?”

Keane shook his head.

“Hello?” Marisa was on the line.

“My traveling plans have been changed. I’ll need two tickets to Montreal for today. Right now, if possible. Keane. Yeah, he stopped me as usual. We need to go visit Frank Black again and sort something out. Thanks,” I said and disconnected the line.

“I hope you’ll pay for my plane ticket. I’m broke,” Keane said.

“Gotcha covered. Food as well, I guess.”

* * * * *

By the time we landed in Montreal and picked up the rental car, Keane was annoying me to no end. While he was retiring in days, he was still on the job and wouldn’t let up.

I’d stopped trying to convince him to keep the information about Will Black in the envelope until we talked to the parents. Going public with it to his bosses or to the media would only complicate things.

Like my life.

Chenzo had Little Chenzo back and all was fine in the world of The Family mob boss. He was allowing me to live and praising me for a job well-done. He was now inadvertently protecting me from anyone who wished to do me harm except Harry. He’d put the word on the street I was under his umbrella, and I have to admit it felt good. It allowed me to breathe easier for a few minutes.

Keane wanted to arrest the imposter and figure out who he really was, but I needed him to catch his breath and relax for a second.

“I’m not sure why we’re even in Canada. No matter what the parents say, he’s not who he says he is,” Keane said.

I began driving and refrained from turning the radio on and drowning Reggie out.

“When I met with Frank Black he was all too quick to tell me it wasn’t his kid. Without any real prodding. I should’ve seen there was something not right. He’d been paid off and the wife was also in on it. They’re horrible people,” I said.

“I can arrest them as part of the conspiracy,” Keane said.

“Seriously. . . I need you to stop talking.”

“I have a job to do, James. These people are lying. Someone is impersonating Chenzo’s son. I need to pull everyone in for questioning.” Keane pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll need to contact a friend in the Canadian government so we can cut through all the political red tape. I’ll need to arrest the Black husband and wife and extradite them back to the U.S. for questioning.”

I grabbed the phone from his hand and stuck it in the side pocket of my car door. I really wanted to throw it and Keane out the window but didn’t want to bother.

“What are you doing?” Keane asked, incredulous.

“I’m saving your butt and mine.” I picked up speed as I drove. I wanted this over and done with so I could get rid of Keane. “If you shine a light on any of this, you’ll get us both killed. What do you think Chenzo will do to the guy when he knows it really isn’t his son? When you slap the biggest crime boss in the face to let him know his own kid grew up across the river panhandling and on drugs while Chenzo thought he was dead and out of mind all those years? Chenzo will torture me until I’m dead. Then revive me and kill me again. And again.”

Keane didn’t say anything but I could tell he was formulating an argument in his head.

“What do you think he’ll do to you? He’ll burn your life down around you. Ex-wives? Dead. Friends and family? Dead. He’ll take Marisa from me, too. I’m responsible for her.”

I wanted it to sink in and hoped for the best.

When we arrived at the Black residence I saw the lights were all out and there were no curtains or blinds on the windows.

“I don’t like this,” I said. We walked up and I knocked. When no one answered right away I looked through the front window. The house was empty. They’d bolted in the middle of the night or they were buried somewhere. Either way it didn’t look good for finding them.

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