The Scorpion's Tale (6 page)

“Me too,” Nick said. “I never told a
soul.”

“Let me buy you a beer and a slice of pizza
at Angela’s,” Steven said. “There’s something I want to discuss
with you.”

Steven and Nick watched as the grave workers
lowered the caskets into the ground and began covering them with
dirt. The sound of earth striking the coffins hit Steven harder
than any punch he ever received; the same sound that had haunted
him for years after he watched his father being buried. He glanced
at the remaining plot next to his wife that was reserved for him.
Steven turned away and walked to his car believing with all his
heart he would never be coming back to this place again, alive.

---------------------

Angela’s Pizzeria, an Italian eatery in
Brooklyn, had been Nick and Steven’s hangout since they were kids.
Angela was a close friend of Steven’s mother. The smell of tomato
sauce, melting cheeses, and garlic wafted through the air and
brought them both back to their childhood. Angela could hardly
contain her emotions when she saw Steven. She threw her arms around
him and hugged and kissed him.

“Steven, Steven…I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to
come to the funeral. Did you get my flowers?” Her sincerity was
evidenced by the tears on her face.

“You mean
our
flowers, don’t you,
mama?” said Joseph, Angela’s eldest son, as he hugged Steven and
kissed his cheeks. “Everybody is devastated. You know if there is
anything we can do, we’re here for you.”

Steven smiled. “I know. Thanks.”

Nick and Steven slowly made their way to the
back of the restaurant, amidst a smattering of people standing to
squeeze Steven’s hand or embrace him. They finally reached a booth
nestled in a corner where they would have privacy.

Nick was particularly interested in Amanda
and wanted to know every detail about Catarina. Four beers later,
they ran out of things to say and were lost in private
thoughts.

“So what are you going to do now?” Nick
asked.

“I died the day my family was killed, Nick.
There’s nothing left for me now.”

Nick lowered his eyes and said nothing.

“But I have one piece of unfinished business
and it’s something you can help me with. I want to find the people
who killed my family.”

“I know how you feel, but what you need is a
shrink to get you right in the head.”

“I need your help, Nick!” Steven said.

“Look, Steven, even if I wanted to help you,
I don’t have any information. Nobody knows what happened. Wait for
the police to do their job.”

Steven glared at Nick. “If you want to play
me for an idiot, go ahead. We both know that your family is looking
too. I’m not a moron. You and Olivaro were good friends. This had
to be connected with Tony’s business. So paisan, if you loved
Amanda, show me. Tell me what your family knows so that I can find
the bastards who murdered her.”

“Don’t use that against me! Amanda would
never
have given her blessing for revenge, and you know it!”
Nick said, his face flushed with anger.

“Amanda is dead!” Steven yelled, pounding the
table with his fist.

Nick waited a few seconds for Steven to
regain his composure. “Trust me, Steven, let it go!” Nick said in a
calmer voice. “My family and I will take care of it.”

“I’m already doing this,” Steven said,
clenching his jaw, trying to contain himself. “What if it was your
wife and your little girl, Nick? Would you sit around doing
nothing, or would you hunt down the killers?” Steven didn’t wait
for a response. “No, you’d use every resource at your disposal to
kill them, just as I intend to do!”

Nick leaned back in the booth and carefully
chose his next words. “You can take comfort in knowing that Tony
was clean. I take comfort in knowing that much. His partners were
scumbags and that’s what got them killed.”

Steven remained expressionless. “Keep
going.”

“Tony’s partners messed with some big shots
in Rio. I think they were skimming money or doing phony invoicing,
and the Brazilians discovered what was happening. They sent a
message to all of their customers in New York. That’s why Tony’s
wife was killed. They put out the word, mess with us and we’ll kill
everyone.”

“I want to know who did it.”

Nick hesitated. “I know you’re stupid enough
to go after this guy, but you’ll end up dead. He’s totally out of
your league. Amanda would not have wanted me to get you killed.
That much I do know!”

Steven ignored him. “Try me,” he quipped.
“Who is it and where do I find him?”

Nick shook his head. “The Brazilians hired
the best. He goes by the name of Scorpion. Nobody knows who he is.
We used him a few years ago. I wasn’t directly involved in the job,
but I know my family was not disappointed.”

“Where do I find this Scorpion?”

“I just told you dummy, nobody knows where he
is,” Nick snapped. “Nobody can find him. He’s untraceable.”

The waitress brought two more beers to the
table. Nick pushed his away. “I’ve already had too many. I’ve got
to drive home. Do you want me to give you a lift?”

Steven chugged his beer and slammed the mug
down, spilling on himself. “I want the information I’ve asked
for.”

“You’re drunk, Steven. I can’t take you
seriously.”

Without warning, Steven reached across the
table and grabbed Nick by his shirt collar. “You can be my friend
or you can be my enemy. It’s that simple. If you’re not with me,
you’re against me. Make your choice!” Steven released his grip and
fell back into the booth, leaving a greasy print on Nick’s
shirt.

Nick smoothed his shirt and adjusted his tie.
He wasn’t going to be goaded into a fistfight with Steven. He stood
up and put on his jacket. “I’ll ask around and see what I can find
out. Go home and get some sleep. May Amanda forgive me for what I
am about to do,” Nick said, glancing at the ceiling. He abruptly
turned and walked out of the bar.

Steven thought about what Nick had said. Of
course Nick was right. Amanda would never have wanted him to avenge
her death. She would have forgiven her killer and would have begged
her family to forgive him, too. But this wasn’t about Amanda. It
was about him. The Scorpion had taken everything from him,
including his soul. There was no middle ground and no room for
compromise. There were no other options for Steven. Whatever it
took, wherever it led him, this was his destiny. For the first time
since the murders, Steven had a reason to live, with the knowledge
that his strength came from not caring if he died as long as he
took the Scorpion with him.

The San Remo sky was a majestic blue dotted
with cotton ball clouds slowly riding on a light breeze off the
Mediterranean. The beaches were packed with Italian sunbathers
enjoying their last swims before returning home to begin the new
school year. Forty kilometers north, following the Argentine River
to its source in the Ligurian Alps, is the small village of Realdo.
Perched atop a rocky spur and cradled against the sheltering mass
of Mt. Saccarello, Realdo appears suddenly; an Italian version of
“Brigadoon”.

The town’s eighteenth century church was
filled with mourners. In the front pew, Giovanna Milani watched the
priest sprinkle holy water over three simple wooden caskets in
which lay her father, Fabio, her mother, Fiorella and her younger
brother, Roberto. Her great uncles, once toughened as underground
resistance fighters during Mussolini’s fascist regime and later
fighting the Nazis, had trembling hands and quivering lips.

Giovanna had celebrated her twenty-eighth
birthday just weeks earlier with her family. Her brother, Roberto
Milani, had reserved a small seafood restaurant on the coast for
eighty people. Wine flowed throughout the evening, and the family’s
history was recounted through amusing stories told by the elders.
Her brother spared no expense. There was a grand assortment of
seafood, vegetables and breads followed by countless bottles of
Limoncella. Even by Italian standards the meal was an
extravaganza.

A bittersweet smile touched Giovanna’s lips
as she recalled that evening. Her smile faded as her thoughts
drifted back to the tragedy. How had her brother suddenly acquired
the money? Nine months earlier he begged her for a loan to buy a
used scooter. Suddenly, Roberto was flashing money. He dumped the
old scooter as if it was a child’s toy, repaid Giovanna and bought
a brand new motorcycle. Roberto’s olive oil export business had
barely managed to stay afloat. Giovanna knew Roberto paid his bills
with loans from their parents. When money finally came, it came
fast and furious. In her heart, Giovanna knew the money was
tainted, but she lacked the nerve to confront her brother, a
decision that overwhelmed her with guilt. Now Roberto and her
parents, murdered in their beds, were gone forever.

After the service, the congregation followed
the procession as it escorted the coffins in wooden wagons, single
file, down cobblestone streets to the graveyard, a half-mile away.
Giovanna heard the words of the family priest, but her heart was
closed to the message, her eyes affixed to the distant mountains,
recalling happier times. All of his life, her younger brother had
idolized her and she had been his protector.

Giovanna placed roses on their graves and
slowly walked back to town arm-in-arm with her aunts. She turned
just in time to see Giorgio, Roberto’s best friend and their
favorite cousin, approach. Giovanna asked her aunts to walk ahead.
When they were out of sight, she wrapped her arms around Giorgio
and buried her face in his jacket.

“I miss them so much,” she cried, tears
cascading down her face. “Who would do such an evil thing?”

“Gia, I’m so sorry I missed the service. I
tried to get back from Firenze as fast as I could, but there was an
accident on the highway.”

Giovanna placed her fingers softly on his
lips. “Shhh, there is no need to explain. What is important is that
you’re with me now. I need you here.”

Giorgio held her close to him. They had
always loved each other; a forbidden and exciting love both knew
was morally wrong but too powerful to contain. Roberto had been
very vocal in his disapproval of Giovanna’s relationship with
Giorgio, which created tremendous friction. Roberto was her voice
of reason and the lovers eventually ended their affair, remaining
close friends.

Giovanna led Giorgio to a bench beneath an
ancient olive tree. It was a familiar place where the two now sat
silently, holding hands and comforting each other. Giorgio softly
caressed her head, savoring the opportunity to once again be close
to her. His passion for her had never diminished.

“We should go away.”

Giovanna sighed, stroking her ex-lover’s hand
without looking up. “We can never be together.”

“I can still dream. We could move to Brazil
and start a new life.”

She kissed his cheek. “I love you and I
always will.” Giovanna’s expression and demeanor suddenly changed
and she was now serious. She reached for his hands and held them
tightly. “Now it’s time for you to help me, Giorgio. I need
information.”

“Information?” Giorgio asked, looking
confused. He gently touched her hips and ran his fingers over her
dress, savoring the touch of her body.

Giovanna hung her head. “Giorgio, there were
no secrets between you and Roberto. You worked with him and I know
his business got my family killed. I need to find the people
responsible.”

Giorgio recoiled, blood rushing to his face.
“Are you crazy? You saw your family. If you hadn’t been in
Portofino, there would be four caskets instead of three! Leave it
be!”

Giovanna frowned, slowly shaking her head.
“You know I must do this. Tell me where I can find my brother’s
business associates.”

Giorgio waved her off and stood to walk
away.

“Giorgio!” she shouted. “Help me.
Please.”

Giorgio pointed his finger menacingly at her,
his eyes narrowing. “And get you murdered so that I have your blood
on my hands, too? No thank you, cousin.” He instantly regretted his
choice of words.

“Blood on your hands? Did you have something
to do with this?” she asked, raising her voice. “Oh my God – tell
me it isn’t true!”

Giorgio moved quickly towards her and grabbed
her shoulders. “Of course not …I mean, no, I didn’t do this, but I
....”

“Giorgio, what have you done!” she screamed,
as she backed away.

Giorgio hung his head. “I haven’t done
anything. I should have done something. I should have warned him! I
knew what he was doing was dangerous. He knew it too.” He wiped his
eyes with his handkerchief. “But we closed our eyes to everything
except the money. Gia, we were teenagers again!” He pointed his
finger into the town toward her family’s house. “It was greed that
killed your family.”

Giovanna calmed herself, realizing Giorgio
was not involved. She touched his arm and led him back to the
bench.

“What happened?” she whispered.

Giorgio nodded. “Sometimes,” he said,
speaking as if in a trance, “I worked when he needed help with the
bigger jobs like shipments of computers.”

She looked deep into his eyes and saw his
pain. “Giorgio, everyone thought that Roberto was exporting olive
oil. What was he really doing?”

“Giovanna, I swear by everything holy we
believed the business was legitimate. Roberto first exported olive
oil, then wine and cheese. Then he got friendly with people in New
York City. At first, it was business as usual. Then the shipments
turned into computers. Roberto noticed the invoices and transport
documents didn’t match. I was with him when he received his first
payment, an amazing amount, too good to be true. Roberto thought it
was a mistake but New York told him the money was a bonus for his
silence.”