Tin City (31 page)
Featuring Rushmore McKenzie
A Hard Ticket Home
Featuring Holland Taylor
Penance
Practice to Deceive
Dearly Departed
Reverend Winfield spoke over the grave of Lorenzo Hernandez although no one else had come to hear him. He told me that even a killer deserved a decent burial. He said when the time came he’d be happy to preside at my funeral, too. I wasn’t quite sure how to take the remark, and let it go.
Sykora resigned from the FBI and returned to New York with Pen. But he went out a hero, hailed for killing a suspected terrorist—that would be Brucie—who had targeted him and his wife after his heroic efforts helped shut down a cigarette-smuggling operation that was using profits to finance Islamic organizations with links to al-Qaeda. As evidence, the FBI singled out three Twin Cities convenience store owners—one Pakistani and two Saudis—who were prosecuted for donating money to a Moslem charity that the Justice Department claimed was funneling cash to the PLO.
Frank Russo’s moldering body was discovered in the locked trunk of an abandoned automobile with Minnesota plates. The car was found
in Hunts Point in New York City, only a few blocks from where Russo had been born. It was labeled a “gangland hit,” and despite the description of Nick Horvath that Sykora and I had supplied, and the physical evidence obtained from his trailer, no arrests were made.
in Hunts Point in New York City, only a few blocks from where Russo had been born. It was labeled a “gangland hit,” and despite the description of Nick Horvath that Sykora and I had supplied, and the physical evidence obtained from his trailer, no arrests were made.
Roseanne Esjay’s story was never printed in the
Times
, or anywhere else for that matter. She didn’t explain what had happened, and I didn’t ask.
Times
, or anywhere else for that matter. She didn’t explain what had happened, and I didn’t ask.
The Seeking Information Alert issued on me was obviated, and the AIC of the Minneapolis field office made it clear that for the good of the bureau my name was never again to be uttered in the hallowed halls of the FBI—at least that’s what Harry told me. I had invited him and his wife for dinner, seating them next to Chopper, who seemed to delight his wife but made Harry nervous. He kept checking to see if his wallet was missing.
Nina, Margot, Bobby, and Shelby also came to dinner. Shelby returned my shoe box. I was happy to get it back.
Nina forgave me for not staying in touch. I always knew she would. Shelby also forgave me, but not until after dessert. She told me when we were alone in the kitchen that the next time I pulled a stunt like this she’d kick my sorry butt up and down and around Merriam Park. She wasn’t kidding.
Finally, after all the dust settled, I called Sweet Swinging Billy Tillman and told him that the men who had attacked his wife were dead.
“Did you kill them?” he asked.
I told him I was responsible.
He paused for a moment, said, “Thank you,” and hung up. There was no enthusiasm in his voice. I have no idea what the news meant to him, or if it meant anything. I called several more times over the next few months, tried to visit, but the conversations were always abrupt and I was told to stay away.
I never saw or spoke with Penelope Glass again. But whenever I hear a song I like, I now check the liner notes to see who wrote it.
TIN CITY. Copyright © 2005 by David Housewright. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
eISBN 9781429924504
First eBook Edition : May 2011
EAN 978-0312-32151-2
First Edition: May 2005
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