The Love Killers (15 page)

Angelo thought about phoning the casino to let them know he wasn't coming in tonight. What the hell—it would only bring Shifty Fly running to station himself outside, and who needed that?

‘I'm ready,' he said confidently.

‘Great!'

Rio liked popping ammis. Soon she was breaking open another glass vial and forcing it under her nose.

He breathed in deeply, feeling the effect down to his toenails.

‘You know, you're not too bad,' she murmured, sliding across his body, straddling his neck with her long legs. ‘But Jesus Christ, your beard is itchy!'

* * *

Enzio paced the private room at the hospital, his face a grim mask.

Frank sat in a chair, his head buried in his hands.

Enzio muttered in Italian, occasionally throwing words of contempt in his son's direction.

Dr. Rogers entered the room. He was a weary, bespectacled man with receding hair and a slight build.

Enzio clapped him on the shoulders. ‘Doctor, we know you did all you could, you mustn't blame yourself.'

Dr. Rogers shook Enzio's hand away. ‘I don't blame myself,' he said indignantly. ‘Not at all, Mr. Bassalino.' He turned to glare at Frank. ‘I'm afraid that poor girl was very badly beaten. The baby had no chance, it was—'

‘She fell down the stairs,' Frank interrupted, stone-faced. ‘I told you that before. She fell.'

‘Mr. Bassalino, your wife's internal injuries were not consistent with falling down stairs. She was beaten, and
that's
what will have to go on the death certificate.' His voice was full of barely concealed disgust. ‘I'm sure there will have to be an inquiry.'

Enzio approached the doctor. ‘Are you a family man, Doc?' he asked, very friendly.

‘Yes,' the doctor replied shortly.

‘Pretty wife? Nice kiddies?'

‘I don't see what this has to do—'

‘Plenty,' Enzio said. ‘As a family man, you can understand the occasional little tiff. Y'know what I mean—lovers' quarrel, that kind of thing. Happens all the time, don't it, Doc?'

‘What has this got to do with anything?' the doctor asked stiffly.

‘Well, y'see, my boy—he's a man suffering. Now, you wouldn't wanna make it any worse for him, wouldja, Doc?'

‘Mr. Bassalino, I have a duty to perform.'

‘Sure you do, an' believe me, I'm not trying to stop you. I think you doctors do a wonderful job. And yet you're underpaid. It's shockin'. A crime, really. I mean, here you are workin' your asses off, an' what do you get? Hardly enough to keep your wife looking pretty.' Enzio took a beat. ‘You know what I mean, huh? I'm an old man, but I still appreciate a pretty face.' A meaningful pause. ‘It would be a shame if your wife lost hers.' He fumbled in his pocket, producing a wad of bills carelessly held together with a rubber band. ‘Here's a thousand dollars, Doc, somethin' to help you out.'

Dr. Rogers hesitated as Enzio thrust the money toward him.

‘Take it,' Enzio said, his voice mild. ‘Keep your wife pretty.'

* * *

By the time the papers were delivered Nick had fallen back to sleep.

Lara scanned them quickly. In the gossip column of one was the item she had known would be there. The writer—a bitchy woman columnist—had put it together as only a bitch could:

How does glamorous star of the forties, still-frisky April Crawford, do it? Married four times, she is about to take el plunge-o five with handsome, thirtyish Nick Bassalino, a Los Angeles businessman, say those in the know. However, someone should tell Nick, for when last seen, he was boarding a plane for New York with gorgeous Lara Crichton, a stunning jet-setter of twenty-six. Last report had them dancing cheek-to-cheek, among other things, at New York's chicest discotheque, Le Club.

There was a picture of Lara taken in Acapulco for a
Harpers Bazaar
layout, looking incredible in a one-piece white swimsuit. There was also a picture of April leaving a film premiere. She looked tired. Oh, well, Lara thought ruefully—good-bye April. The movie star would never stand for Nick making a public fool of her.

What now? Where did it leave her and Nick?

It wasn't fair. She hadn't known it would be like this. She hadn't counted on actually falling in love.

Was one night of incredible sex, love?

Maybe, maybe not. He was so different from all the other men she'd known. He was masculine and sexual. There was nothing phony about Nick Bassalino. He was just as he was.

Angry at herself, she took the paper in the bedroom and tossed it at him. ‘You're not going to like this,' she said flatly. ‘And I think it's going to make April mad as hell.'

* * *

Rio fixed fantastic drinks. Rum, brown sugar, eggs, cream, Benedictine, all mixed together in the blender. When the doorbell rang she told Angelo to stay in bed, she would get it. Naked, except for the stiletto heels she always liked to wear, she marched off.

What with the poppers, the sex, the couple of joints they'd smoked, and the heavy rum drink, he felt pretty tired. Pleasantly so. Christ, she couldn't object to his falling asleep now. There would be no more name-calling; he'd proved himself at last.

He closed his eyes, feeling strange, almost suspended. More than being stoned, it was as if his mind was leaving his body and drifting over to the corner to watch him.

That was funny. That was
really
funny, and he started to laugh. Soon he realized his laugh wasn't coming out of his mouth, it was coming out from all over, his nose, ears, even his ass. The thought only made him laugh more, and the more he laughed the more peculiar sensations overcame him.

He noticed a lot of people crowding into the room. Nice smiling faces that appreciated his laughter.

They all began to take off their clothes, and as they did so the clothes floated around the room in slow motion. Angelo was too exhausted to sit up. He was enjoying himself. He was having such a
great
time.

‘Hey, baby.' Rio's face swam into focus very close to his. ‘You remember Hernando and Peaches, don't you babe? They
both
think you're
reaal
special. They
both
want to meet you.'

Her voice saying ‘meet you' echoed and echoed around the room until it sounded like an Indian mantra.

He nodded. Immediately his head seemed to leave the rest of his body and ricochet up to the ceiling.

Hernando began laying strong hands on him, caressing his sex, taking it in his mouth.

Angelo groaned with pleasure. His penis felt bigger than his body. His body was nothing.

Peaches was exquisite, a fine-boned Slavic face and thick blond hair. She was pushing Hernando away and taking over.

Somewhere Rio's laughter hung heavy in the air.

They turned him over, and Hernando mounted him, and he knew it was a man forcing his way inside, but it didn't matter, it didn't matter at all. In fact, it was fantastic. Peaches was taking him in her mouth at the same time, and he thought he was reaching a pinnacle of eternity, and the actual coming was an explosion that rivaled the atomic bomb.

Pow!! Great mushroom clouds. And he drifted off into the deep sleep he had been waiting for.

Nick argued impatiently with April Crawford's maid on the telephone. He was lying on Lara's bed. ‘Now come on, Hattie, I
know
she's there. Tell her again, I
have
to talk to her, it's
very
important.'

Hattie lowered her voice. ‘Mr. Bassalino, it's just no good. She is locked in her room and won't speak to anyone.'

‘You're sure you told her it's me?'

‘Especially
you she won't talk to.'

‘Oh, shit, Hattie, you know what she's like. I'll try and get a plane back today. How many bottles has she got in there with her?'

‘Mr. Bassalino?
' Hattie exclaimed in shocked tones. She had been with April nineteen years and still refused to admit her employer drank.

‘Keep an eye on her, Hattie, explain things to her, tell her not to believe everything she reads in the papers. I'll see you tonight.'

Lara, hovering outside, marched briskly into the room. ‘Well,' she said, forcing a smile, ‘that's it, then, is it?'

‘What?' he said shortly.

‘Running back to Momma's arms, huh? I do hope she'll forgive you for being bad.'

He shook his head sadly. ‘Lara—Lara. I'm surprised at you.'

He's
surprised at
me!
she thought angrily. Jesus, she'd really been acting like a naïve idiot. Blinded by a great-looking guy with a fantastic body and one night of wild sex. She'd expected he might
want
to stay, but the only thing on his mind was running back to April.

‘When are you leaving?' she asked flatly.

‘I don't know. I have to call my father.'

‘Oh, I see. Can't go unless Daddy gives the word. Well, if he says you have to stay another night, shall we enjoy a repeat performance? After all, we're both here, it would be foolish not to take advantage.'

‘Listen,' he said, getting off the bed, still naked. ‘Don't talk like a cunt, it doesn't suit you. You knew what this was going to be. I never lied to you about me and April. I
love
April Crawford. I'm going to
marry
her.'

‘You insulting bastard!' She was close to tears. ‘Just get dressed and get the hell out.'

He shrugged. ‘If it means anything to you, last night was Wonderland.'

‘And I was Alice, a naïve little girl. Thank you, Nick. You sure made me grow up in a hurry.'

He tried to take her in his arms, but she pushed him away.

‘When are you coming back to Los Angeles?' he asked.

‘Never. Does that make you feel more secure?'

‘If we're careful, we can still see each other.'

She laughed bitterly. ‘God, Nick, I don't believe you! In one breath it's how you love April Crawford and you're going to marry her. And in the next it's when will you see me again. Well, let me tell you, Nick Bassalino. You won't—not ever.'

He shook his head. ‘Don't count on it, baby. Just don't count on it.'

* * *

Golli and Segal arrived at the hospital and escorted Frank home. ‘Whatever you do, don't leave him,' Enzio warned. ‘Stay with him, keep watchin' him.'

Enzio made all the arrangements for the funeral. He had spoken to Anna Maria's family in Sicily. Her mother and sister said they would fly in for the funeral.

Enzio was sick to his stomach. Frank was a bitter disappointment. Beating a pregnant woman was a terrible thing to do. A sin. But thank God it had happened while Enzio himself was in New York and able to deal with matters so there would be no disgrace brought upon the family.

Still, he'd never expected anything like this from Frank, his oldest—and, he'd thought, most dependable—son. God would surely punish him for such a violent and sickening act. Enzio firmly believed in the power of the Almighty for certain things.

What a morning. News of the bombings at Manny's and Barbarellis had reached him. He was sure Bosco Sam was behind it. A show of strength was needed. Christ, what strength could you show to a bunch of crazy maniacs who walked around in broad daylight blowing up places?

Enzio knew there had to be an answer. There had to be, or the whole Bassalino organization's reputation would be at risk. Who was going to pay protection for no protection?

All morning he'd been trying to reach Angelo in London. It was yet another worry he didn't need. Angelo hadn't shown up at the casino, and somehow he'd managed to disappear without his bodyguard. Out getting laid, of course.

Once more the overseas operator told him there was no reply from Angelo's number. He knew what he would do when he got hold of him. Bring the horny little bastard home for Anna Maria's funeral and keep him home. No more screwing around in London. Angelo's place was with his family, where they could watch him. Maybe he'd put him to work for Frank again.

Finally Nick arrived at the hotel.

‘What took you so long?' Enzio snapped. ‘You shoulda come to the hospital.'

Nick was distressed. ‘I only just heard,' he said. ‘What happened?'

Enzio grimaced sadly. ‘An accident. She fell down the stairs.'

Nick looked incredulous. ‘Fell down the stairs? How? Where was Frank?'

‘He was sleeping. She was pregnant, clumsy on her feet. It was a tragic accident.'

‘God! I can hardly believe it. Anna Maria was such a sweet kid…'

‘And you?' Enzio bellowed. ‘Where the fuck were you all night? When I need you, no one can find you.' He shook his head. ‘Don't you have no sense, Nick? These are dangerous times.'

‘I called the hotel soon as I got up,' Nick said defensively. ‘Then I broke my balls rushing over here.'

‘You broke your balls last night,' Enzio commented dryly. ‘At least it's good you can forget about the broad you screw in Hollywood. But hey—no time for talk now. You go to your brother's house and stay with him.'

‘I gotta be getting back to the Coast. Without me things can start—'

‘Enough!' Enzio shouted. ‘I don't understand my children. Your brother loses his wife—
your
sister-in-law. There should be grief, respect. But no, you mumble about getting back to the Coast. What kind of brother are you? Get over to Frank's house an' sit with him. You can plan on stayin' here until after the funeral.'

‘When's that?'

‘Don't question me!' Enzio screamed. ‘Get out of here.' His heart was bouncing around, a sign of overexertion, no doubt.

What had he done to deserve three idiot sons?

Dukey K. Williams accepted the news of the bombings calmly. He congratulated Leroy.