Stray Bullet (13 page)

“Faberge,” the Don whispered to Jack.

A bead of sweat appeared on Jack’s brow. 

“Excuse me…? I don’t understand,” Jack replied looking across briefly at an equally confused Henry. He cast his mind back to the day of his arrival when he had unintentionally got the better of the Don.  He realized this moment was about to be repaid.

There was another brief pause before the corners of the Don’s mouth gained altitude.  He continued.

“It would be my honour, my son, if you would be the host this evening.” Henry’s eyebrows arched. This was a moment he would brag about to friends in the years to come and right on cue he instinctively made a second attempt to reach for the handles. The Don nodded in approval and the large oak doors were swung open before them.

Not a second passed before the three men were greeted with a substantial roar of applause. It seemed the entire family and guests numbering possibly a hundred, stood before them. Natasha appeared from within the crowd of guests, champagne flute and bottle at the ready. The Don once again nodded, and she ran to embrace him. The Don, for the first time that evening, allowed the fatherly smile to escape and gestured with his hands for the party to begin.

What followed would potentially be the happiest evening in the history of the Giordano family, a rare moment when all members of the family and their inner circle of friends would be gathered at a single venue. As the celebrations continued through the night, a legion of security and bodyguards would patrol the grounds ensuring the safety of all those within.

Jack and Natasha were married almost three months to the day after the Don had given his blessing. The wedding itself was a very private affair, although one of the family members, editor of the socialite magazine
Gotcha!,
had been granted limited access for a number of carefully selected photographers to produce press photographs of the couple and select members of the congregation for his high profile society magazine. Despite the screening process, one of the photographers would still be ejected from the wedding reception having gone beyond his remit and taken pictures of some distinguished guests without their permission. The infringement cost him his job, the temporary use of fingers on both hands and, once he finally recovered, a period when he found himself unable to work again in Illinois other than as a freelance.

Jack and Natasha had been oblivious to the short lived infringement.  For them, the wedding had gone exactly to plan and, following the celebrations and subsequent honeymoon, they wasted little time in producing their own heirs and grandchildren of the Don.

The next few years passed them by very quickly. Jack would still be required to go on brief
business trips.
Natasha never asked as to detail in any manner other than small talk. She had blossomed into a devoted wife and he, a doting husband.

A couple of years after their marriage, they collectively decided to live with the Don at the family residence so he could take part in the upbringing of his grandchildren. This delighted the Don who found it difficult to hide his excitement when they proposed the idea. He had been concerned as to their open living in the city and the implications on his grandchildren’s security.

In married life, Jack converted the penthouse at the casino into his place of work rather than giving it up. There he could meticulously plan any business that required his attention in peace. He tried, whenever possible, to keep his work and family life completely separate, concerned about how Natasha might react if she ever discovered his full involvement within the business.

It had been a warm summer’s morning when Jack had been scrutinizing the casino accounts as he often did in the penthouse. A telephone call from his homeland disturbed him, an unexpected call, from an unknown gentleman. His phone rang and Jackie, the office girl and casino receptionist, addressed him in a nervous and squeaky voice.

“Mr Shaw, there’s an international call for you. I told the caller you were unavailable but he is most insistent,” she said.

“Put him through.” Jack scowled at her incompetence. He thought to take the call before arranging for her to be fired. The caller introduced himself in a posh English accent and as the conversation continued, the thought of dismissing Jackie faded from his mind, an unusual oversight by a man who adhered to detail.  He was totally engrossed by the conversation that lasted only a few intense minutes, yet would haunt him for some time.

“It
’s almost old enough to be an antique. You know these waiting room magazines. But I’m telling you, it’s him. It’s Christian’s son right there on the centre pages,”
she exclaimed into the telephone mouthpiece while waiving the magazine in her hand like a banner at a parade.

There was a brief pause before Jessica continued. “No, I haven’t told him.”  Her voice wavered and took on a sombre tone. “How could I ever tell him now?”  She glanced across at a picture of her son Harvey which years earlier, she had hung proudly on her living room wall.

It was three months since Harvey had been sent to America on a work assignment, and as each day passed, Jessica grew steadily more uncomfortable at how long it had been since he had called or written to her.

That morning she had been for her quarterly visit to the dentist, where she underwent laser treatment to return her teeth to the glimmering white that made her smile sparkle and melt the hearts of middle aged men. She had been sitting in the waiting room sorting through the old magazines that were donated by patients. Whilst ferreting for a good read, she had come across an old edition of
Gotcha! 
Ordinarily she would have opted for
House & Country
or
Country Life
in which she could browse through the hoards of millionaire mansions up for sale in the country and dream longingly of what she might opt for given the money. But the selection was, in her mind, poor on that day. It seemed that for the most part the dentist’s recent clientele must have differing interests from the norm, as the selection was full of socialite gossip and women’s health magazines.

Owing to her already healthy lifestyle, she had opted for the former and had come across an article that made her skin turn grey. She had asked the receptionist if she could take the magazine and by way of thank you, had placed a generous donation into one of the charity boxes that sat proudly on the receptionist’s bureau. She had remained preoccupied with the content for her entire appointment. Her normal banter with the dentist was non-existent other than to answer questions with a brief “yes” or “no” response.

“Are you ok, Jessica?” asked the dentist as he concluded the treatment. “You appear unusually out of sorts.”

“
Yes, yes!” she had replied dismissively and promptly left the room without so much as a
by your leave.

Once home she had read the lead paragraph of the article over and over again.

Jack Shaw and Natasha Giordano were married last weekend at a lavish ceremony hosted at the Giordano family estate. Jack, the managing accountant at the Giordano group of casinos, is the son of Christian and Helen Shaw who were tragically killed in a car accident in the UK.

She could almost recite the article word for word by the time she eventually decided to call the friend and confidant that she played bridge with on Thursday afternoons. The conversation had not helped her in coming to any conclusions, but it had made her feel better to speak to a friend on this taboo subject of so many years previous.

On finally replacing the receiver, she looked at her watch and, feeling slightly less on edge, decided it was time for some lunch. She took one last glance at the picture of Jack and Natasha Shaw in the centre pages before putting the magazine in an overfilled rack where she kept so many old magazines and articles that held memories for her. She strolled into the kitchen and turned on the radio. Finding her favourite music station, she began to prepare herself a salad sandwich.

Later that day she would go and visit Jenny and the children. She would stay with them overnight as the return journey was too arduous for her to complete in one day. On the train she would read the newspaper but there was nothing out of the ordinary; banks announcing record profits, ministers defending tax rises, the latest scandals involving overpaid footballers and an article about the Vatican. It seemed they were sending an envoy to raise the spirits of the British congregation. Jessica would not read as far as the sports pages but would glance briefly through the television listings just in case there was anything of interest to watch and discuss with Jenny later that evening.

Jenny had been waiting obediently at the platform. Having grown used to her husband’s obsession with time keeping, it had slowly rubbed off on her. Since Harvey had left for America she had grown accustomed to Jessica’s regular stopovers and enjoyed the company, discussions and updates on what was occurring in the capital around where Jessica was living. Jenny had been brought up in the countryside and was not a great fan of the speed at which large cities operated. The hustle and bustle of commuters and pedestrians hurrying around the streets coupled with the effects of the visible smog often made her feel dizzy. She preferred to listen to Jessica’s version of what went on rather than go to the trouble of visiting the capital and feeling its overwhelming effects first hand.

On that particular day she sensed that Jessica was out of sorts, arriving at the station in body but not in her soul which clearly was on duty somewhere else. Jenny wondered if her mother in law’s absent minded disposition was merely a symptom of her son’s continued absence or something more sinister.

Either way, she felt sure her own news, which she would savour a while beneath her broad smile, would cheer Jessica’s spirits.

It wasn’t until later that evening, once they had eaten dinner and the children had been tucked away in bed, that they would have a chance to catch up. Jenny would enthusiastically share news that Harvey would be coming home within the month. She hadn’t wanted to say anything in front of the children as it wouldn’t have been the first time such news had been given and his leave subsequently revoked at the last possible moment.

On this occasion she was filled with hope. It was Greg Bickley’s office that had called and explained to Jenny that while Harvey might be expected to carry out an assignment while home, his leave was assured and any infringing assignment would be compensated in lieu time.

Jenny still felt unable to throw caution to the wind and let the children know
daddy
was coming home, but she was visibly excited at the prospect and while induced with wine from dinner, she was unable to contain her enthusiasm. She relayed the news with smiles and in a highly excitable tone to Jessica.

They both talked about Harvey and reminisced over past family outings for a couple of hours before the euphoria finally waned. They drank several more glasses of wine between them before turning their attention to the television. Sometime later Jessica, fidgeting on the sofa, bored by the dulcet tones of an ITN newsreader, interrupted the program by turning to Jenny. She put her hand on the younger woman’s arm and, in a rather down beat tone, took her into her confidence.

Jenny had not been paying much attention to the television either.  Instead she had been thinking of nothing other than the return of her husband. The sudden change in tone took her somewhat by surprise yet, she found herself quickly spellbound as her mother in law spilled out in great detail a revelation from her past. At the end of each verbal chapter Jenny took on board another mouthful of wine while considering some form of response. She struggled to make sense of the entire episode of Jessica’s life.

“…and so you see? How can I possibly tell him now?” Jessica concluded reaching for the wine bottle topping up Jenny’s glass followed by her own.

“Jessica,” Jenny said finally, tilting her head to one side and looking into her mother in law’s eyes. “You must have known that I can only advise you to do one thing?” The wine providing Jenny with a masterful confidence.

Jessica said nothing.

“You must tell him as soon as you can. He has a right to know and you cannot continue to burden yourself.” Jenny’s original curiosity now turning to anxiety as she realised she had been drawn in on this dark family secret. Feeling like an unwilling co-conspirator, she continued, still riding high on the alcohol that was warming inside her, she stated firmly, “You must tell him the day he arrives from America.”

In time Harvey
would
forgive his mother for not having imparted to him the true identity of his father much earlier in his lifetime, but, initially, on hearing this revelation, curiosity would get the better of him and he would immediately embark upon a quest to learn of the family he never had.