“Manny, pull the car around. We’re leaving.”
Manny hadn’t noticed Dominic walk up. He was engrossed in a dirty joke Little John was telling. He looked at Dominic, then at Audrey. He stood up without a word, buttoned his jacket, and downed the rest of his coffee.
Dominic said, “Pull around the back to the kitchen. We’ll meet you there.”
“Excuse me?” Audrey said. “I have some packages in Joe’s car. We did some shopping earlier.” She wasn’t demanding about it, but Dominic got the impression she wasn’t asking either.
“Joe will bring them back. He’s only going to be another hour or two.”
“I’d like to have them now. There are two dresses that really should be hung up. I’d like to put the other items away before I go to bed.”
Manny glanced at Dominic, one eyebrow arched. Dominic stared back, an unspoken conversation between them.
“Get Joe’s driver to load them in the back seat,” Dominic said finally. “Then pull the car around.”
Manny nodded and headed for the door, the car keys jingling in his hand.
Dominic turned to Little John. “I’ll call you tomorrow. We’ll firm up plans then.”
“Okay, Mr. Carelli.”
“Have a good night, John.” He smacked the kid’s back like a proud coach and led Audrey to the kitchen.
The smell of oregano and garlic was strong in the air, as was the clanging of pots and pans, dishes being jostled, and several people barking orders in English and Italian. No one paid Dominic and Audrey any heed as they stepped around food carts and sidestepped harried waiters and waitresses.
He would have to mention the security lapse to Joe. They should have been stopped or at least questioned. Instead, the help seemed more interested in moving dinner platters out the door to the dining room than in what they were really supposed to be doing.
At the back door, they waited. Dominic occasionally glanced over his shoulder at the kitchen and its staff. Although he felt Audrey’s eyes on him, he didn’t return her gaze.
She said, “You don’t like me, do you?”
“Lady, I don’t even know you.” He kept his eyes on the door.
The Caddy’s horn blared three times, the all-clear signal, and then Dominic and Audrey were outside in a small area walled in by high-rise buildings with two narrow alleyways leading to the street.
Dominic opened the rear door for her and confronted a mountain of department store bags and garment boxes. Luckily, she was small, so there was still enough room for Audrey to sit, but someone Manny’s size would not have been able to fit next to the pile of clothes. Luckily, Manny was driving and Dominic always sat up front.
He closed the door behind her, making sure her gown was safely tucked inside, then climbed into the front passenger seat.
“Hit it,” he said, and Manny wheeled around and shot the car through the alleyway. The man has his faults, Dominic thought. But the son-of-a-bitch can drive.
***
From a young age, Audrey Carcatera had been a prisoner of the Tagliani family. Her mother had run off when Audrey was seven, leaving her father as her sole means of support and only known family. He had been a low-level soldier in the family. When Audrey was twelve, an errant bullet had taken his life. An “accident” was how Joe Tagliani explained it to her, but Audrey had known better. She knew her father had been skimming money from the family.
Joe had done his best to locate someone to take care of her. There was an uncle in prison, she found out, and an aunt in a mental institution, a grandmother in a nursing home, and another uncle who was missing and presumed dead of a drug overdose since his last known profession had been that of a junkie. Joe assured her it would be okay; he would take care of her.
He sent Audrey to an exclusive boarding school in Europe. From there, a prep school in Connecticut. Then a modeling school in New York, college at Oxford, and finally, culinary school in France. Through it all, Joe would fly out and spend a few days a year with her, driving her around on shopping sprees and buying her thousands of dollars’ worth of clothing, makeup, jewelry — anything and everything.
Joe was generous with money. He sent her a substantial monthly allotment and all of her schooling was paid for a year in advance. To show her appreciation, Audrey tried to do well in her academic studies. She wasn’t an exceptional student, but for someone who had no interest in cooking, or posing in front of a camera, or becoming an ambassador to a foreign country, she worked as hard as she could. If she was having difficulties with another student or a particular teacher, Joe would handle it. One meeting with the dean or headmaster and the person would be expelled or fired.
Her schooling was diverse and intriguing, but seemed chosen for her arbitrarily. Joe had never asked what interested her or what she wanted to pursue as a career, and the truth was, she really didn’t know herself. So when Joe dictated her next educational endeavor, she went along with it. There were times when she wondered at his choices, and maybe deep down, part of her knew what it was leading to. Her father’s experience had taught her a valuable lesson — nothing is ever without consequence.
Shortly after Audrey’s twenty-fourth birthday, Joe came to see her on his yearly visit. He told her that her schooling was nearly over, and then she could begin her adult life. He had a special purpose in mind for her, a way she could pay him back for everything he had done for her. All the while, as he talked to her, he stroked her hair and patted her hand, still much in a fatherly fashion. Then he told her what he had in mind.
“A consort?” she had asked, not bothering to hide her amazement.
“In appearances only,” he told her. He explained he wanted a companion, someone young, beautiful, and cultured. Someone who would make men half his age jealous. He wasn’t well, he explained, and didn’t expect to live more than another few years. He wanted to die not as some pathetic old man, but as a man who appeared to be living life to the fullest.
Joe explained he didn’t expect sexual favors from her; he was beyond that ability now. However, he would brag about his sexual exploits to his men, and of course, he would expect her to confirm his stories of sexual prowess if the opportunity arose. The drawback was that, although she would not be expected to sleep with him, she could not give herself to anyone else. It would do serious damage to his image should his consort be caught in an affair. That would be more of an insult than if everyone knew he was impotent.
“It won’t be so bad,” he had said. “You won’t want for anything. You’ll attend movie premieres, opening night Broadway performances, art exhibits, whatever you desire. You’ll travel the world. I have houses and villas in five different countries. I won’t be with you all the time of course, but you’ll be escorted by my most trusted employees. And when my time comes, I’ll make sure you’re well compensated. So much so, that you’ll never have to worry about money again.”
“I can’t,” she said. “You’ve been wonderful to me, Joe, and I would do anything to repay the kindness you’ve shown me. But…there’s someone else in my life. We’re in love, and he’s asked me to marry him.”
Joe stared at her for such a long time that Audrey feared he was having a stroke. “That’s wonderful,” he said at last. He smiled warmly and asked in a fatherly tone, “What’s the young man’s name?”
***
When the Caddy pulled up, the man on the brownstone’s front steps spoke into a tiny microphone strapped to his wrist. Audrey knew he was talking to the man on the roof, then listening to a response via a small earpiece. His black camel-haired coat was long and belted tightly against the cold, concealing several guns strapped to his hips. The man, much like the one on the roof with the rifle and infrared scope, was prepared for a possible armed assault that so far had never come… But that didn’t mean they were unprepared in case a rival family decided to try their luck.
Dominic was out of the car and glancing up and down the brightly lit street. Audrey watched him, the way he moved, like he was ready for anything. His gaze took in everything. He even looked over the brownstones on either side of Joe’s residence, though it was well known that Joe owned most of the buildings on this particular street and only rented to the most loyal members of the Tagliani family. Joe had once told her it was easier to protect the castle if you owned the surrounding village. A necessary precaution, much like the bars over the windows and the iron gate covering the front door.
Dominic opened the car door for her while the sentry unlocked the iron gate. Manny followed them up the steps and into the house. She was struck again, as she always was, by the house’s barren museum atmosphere—the white rugs, sculptures on the mantle, plastic over the furniture.
Two of Joe’s henchmen sat with their feet up on a chrome coffee table. They jumped to attention when they saw Dominic.
“Mr. Carelli, we didn’t expect you,” one man said.
“Obviously.” Dominic cut their excuses short with a “halt” gesture. “There are packages out in the car that need to be brought in.”
“Put them in one of the guest bedrooms,” Audrey said. “I need to sort through them.”
The two men looked to Dominic for confirmation. He nodded, then the men hustled out to the car.
Once they were gone, Audrey said, “They respect you.”
“No, they fear me,” Dominic said. “There’s a difference.” He turned to Manny. “I’m going to check upstairs. Make sure everything is secure down here.”
As Manny poked around the downstairs area, Audrey followed Dominic upstairs. He peered inside each room and opened every closet door, even checking every window, although they all sported bars and bulletproof glass. He entered Joe’s room, which surprised her. Everyone was forbidden from stepping foot in Joe’s room. Even Audrey.
Dominic checked the closets and behind the drapes. He opened the door to Joe’s private bathroom, entered, and looked behind the shower curtain.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Just checking. Security’s been a bit soft lately.”
He shut off the light, brushed past her into the hallway, and opened the last door on the second floor: Audrey’s bedroom. The room was dimly lit by a beam of moonlight shining through the skylight in the middle of the ceiling. Dominic flipped the light switch on and surveyed the room. He swept the furniture and her possessions with his gaze, then shifted up to the skylight. A shadow darted quickly out of view.
“Does the man on the roof always look in on you?”
“Only the night shift,” Audrey said. “He peeks once in a while, probably hoping to catch me in a state of undress.”
“I’ll talk to Joe about having him replaced.”
“Don’t bother.” She kicked off her shoes, losing two inches of height. “Things are so boring here, I kind of like the attention.” She tossed her purse onto the white-lace canopy bed. “It gives me a vicarious thrill.” She turned just in time to catch his smile, his eyes examining a shelf of books.
“Vicarious, huh?” He ran his fingers over the collection of paperbacks as he perused the titles. All were romance novels. “Charming.” He looked over her collection of CD’s, an assortment of top 40 hits and ’80’s holdovers. “Interesting.”
Audrey thought Dominic acted differently than Joe’s other men. He seemed cultured, more dignified and refined. Only occasionally did his New Jersey accent slip in, the way a radio station might bleed into another, usually when he was talking to the men.
He opened the door to her bathroom and turned on the light. Wet, discarded towels were coiled on the floor, and her makeup cases and tubes of lipstick were scattered across the sink’s countertop. There was a fleeting feeling of embarrassment at the discovery of her sloppiness, and she was curious how Dominic would react. Would he turn his nose up at it? Look disgusted? Make a disparaging remark?
“Messy,” was all he said, his tone and expression impassive. He shut off the light and re-entered the bedroom.
Dominic opened the door to her walk-in closet and revealed rows and rows of dresses and gowns. Shoes lined the inside walls with various pairs of slacks, shirts, and sweaters stacked on shelves above the dresses. All were different styles and colors, and all were from expensive designers.
“Figures,” he said, and shut the closet door.
“Have you been here before?” She followed his gaze down to her feet. Her toenails, painted red, were visible through the stockings.
“To your bedroom? No,” he said.
She wiggled her toes, then felt self-conscious. She walked to the dresser, her back to him, and took off her earrings. “You’ve been to this house, though.”
“Several times,” he said. “You were usually away somewhere.”
She turned to him and expected to catch him staring at her figure as Joe’s henchmen were prone to do. He wasn’t. He was fingering her bed’s white-lace canopy, brushing the delicate patterns back and forth.
“I was probably away on a shopping trip. France. Italy. Spain. Who knows? After a while, it becomes a blur.”
“Yeah, well, no one said being a bought woman would be a nonstop carnival. Right?”
“I was right. You don’t like me.”
“I better head downstairs.” He turned to leave.
“So soon? I was enjoying the company.”
Dominic laughed. “Are you kidding me, lady? You’re surrounded by men twenty-four hours a day.”
“I’m surrounded by Joe’s hired hands, you mean. They’re all too scared to talk to me. They just nod their heads when I say anything, or they look at my tits and ass when they think I’m not paying attention.”
“I’ll talk to Joe about getting you some female friends.” He took a step toward the door.
“Do you think I’m attractive?”
That made him stop. He looked at her with a mixture of inquisitiveness and wariness, as if perhaps he wasn’t sure if he heard her correctly.
“I think…that you’re very troubled.”
“That’s not an answer to my question.” She smiled.
“Yes, you’re attractive.”
“When you look at me,” she sat down on the bed and leaned back on her arms, “what’s the first thought that comes into your mind?” She leaned her head back slightly so her back arched.
He didn’t answer and Audrey couldn’t read him. She didn’t know if this was turning him on or repulsing him.
“What’s your first instinct?” she finally said.
“My first instinct is to bite your lower lip and see if cherry juice squirts out.”
Audrey tilted her head so her hair fell away from her neck. She smiled and tried her best come hither look.
“Try it and see.” She pushed her lower lip out in a little girl pout.
Dominic stood his ground. He didn’t look amused or turned on. He didn’t look anything. She stopped pouting.
“If you bite me,” she said, “I promise not to bite back.”
“Lady, I think you’re very attractive. I could look you up and down all day and not get bored. But you’re not worth dying for.” He shut the door behind him.
Now what did he mean by that? Audrey had thought she would just have fun with him. She hadn’t expected him to take the bait. Obviously, he was too duty bound, or maybe uptight was the right word, to consider taking a pass at the boss’ mistress. Anyone could tell that when they met him. Audrey simply wanted to see if she could break through his icy exterior, maybe get a reaction out of him. The last remark threw her. Maybe she had gotten through to him. Or maybe he’d meant it as an insult.
She stretched out on the bed, not caring about the potential damage she might be inflicting upon her gown. It didn’t matter, really. She could toss it in the trash or tear it into rags, and she would still have a closetful of clothes to choose from. She could even buy an identical one, or a dozen. Her bank account was bottomless, and her charge cards were without limits.
Joe didn’t care how much money she spent or what she spent it on. Audrey was allowed to shop as often as she wished, for whatever she wished, and wherever she wished. The only stipulation Joe put on her was she could not travel unescorted, meaning at least two of Joe’s goons followed her everywhere, and she could not leave the city without Joe’s permission.
When he did grant permission, which was surprisingly often, Audrey traveled the world: to his villa in Italy, his yacht on the Riviera, his chalet in France, and luxurious hotel suites in countries where Joe didn’t maintain a residence. She traveled without fear, through the deepest throngs of people, into the darkest recesses of a foreign city. Wherever she went, at least two large men in dark sunglasses flanked her, keeping all potential threats at bay, staving off would-be suitors, and most important, making sure she didn’t run off.
Audrey turned her mind away from thoughts of captivity. She had been down that road countless times, and she never found new insight or solutions to her problems. Her life’s defining moment was clear to her, and it was in the past. It sang softly in her ear at night, whispering what could have been.
She shook her head and closed her eyes. Paul came into her thoughts. She had liked the way she made him blush so easily. The way his eyes were ablaze when he looked at her, and how stricken he had looked when she left the party. She could have him, she knew, with little effort. While the others were too afraid to make an advance, or as in Dominic’s case, too loyal, Paul’s desire for her was tangible. He would resist, but with careful manipulation, his resolve would quickly crumble. Afterward, she would have him wrapped tightly around her finger.
But once she accomplished this feat, then what?
***
The paper square was still wedged between the door and molding near the floor. It was a trick Paul had picked up from an old movie: If the door had been opened while he was gone, the paper would be on the carpet, and Paul would know he had company. It was probably a sign of paranoia that he had to resort to such tactics, but it made him feel safer.
He unlocked and opened the door, catching the paper. The one-bedroom apartment was dark except for the small glow from the light above the kitchen stove. He knew he’d be up for a while. He was still keyed up from the evening’s events: Joey divulging all the information he’d been waiting for, Joe’s job offer and promotion, and most vividly, meeting Audrey.
Paul switched on the light and was trying to decide between watching a movie or playing a videogame when the figure sitting casually in his rocker caught his attention.
“This life certainly agrees with you,” Matrix said.
Dressed in a powder-blue jumpsuit, black leather boots, and a black suede vest with a multitude of zippered pockets, Matrix was as beautiful as Paul had remembered, and just as abstract — like looking at a picture of a fashion model, except she was here in person and exuding the same sterile coolness as a magazine photo.
“I wasn’t expecting you.” Actually, Paul was thinking she scared the hell out of him. “How did you get in?”
“Entering through a locked door was one of the earliest skills I learned,” she said. “And the paper in the door is an old trick, Paul.”
“Are you sure you should be here? Someone might spot you.”
Matrix said, “Everyone is home sleeping off the effects of that party you attended.” She stood and moved to the window. “And Agent Halloran is stationed outside in case of unexpected company.”
He had forgotten how tall she was, and her monotone voice was creepier in person. He had grown accustomed to it on the phone, but now…
The good feelings he’d had after the party were now gone. He was no longer the Tagliani golden boy or even the pretend mobster in the making. He was once again the insecure government employee way out of his league, just like he was a year ago in Walter’s office.
“I understand you’ve made some progress,” she said.
“How did you know? I haven’t been able to report yet on recent events.”
She looked at him. “I told you once before, Paul. I have two other agents in place. But they haven’t advanced like you have.”
“Thank you.” He sat down finally. Why shouldn’t he? It was his apartment after all, and there was no reason he should feel uncomfortable. Except, everything about Matrix and her sudden appearance made him uncomfortable. Something had to be up. She wouldn’t risk exposure, especially after the stringent security measures she had insisted upon, unless something major was in the works.
“Brief me,” she said.
He told her everything except about meeting Audrey. He told himself it wasn’t important to his assignment, but he knew deep down it might come back to haunt him.
She said, “Everything’s proceeding nicely and ahead of schedule.” She moved abruptly to the door. “We’ll talk again.”
He stood up, feeling awkward. Should he shake hands with her? Salute? Reaffirm his loyalty and steadfast ethics of performing a service to his country? He had the feeling anything he said would sound juvenile and unprofessional, at least to her.
She opened the door, and a beep sounded from her coat pocket. She removed an ultrathin phone and looked at the text display.
“Someone’s entered the building. They’re in the elevator on their way up.”
Matrix took hold of his lapels and pulled him close to her. Her hands were unexpectedly strong. It surprised him, the amount of physical strength she possessed.
She said, “If the elevator stops on this floor, kiss me like we’re lovers.”
Before he could reply, the elevator bell rang and the doors slid open. Her mouth was on him just as fast. She grabbed his arms and thrust them around her, then embraced him and rubbed her hands over his hips and buttocks. Paul was dimly aware of the couple that exited the elevator.
It was a young married couple who lived up the hall. He chanced a brief look to make sure and saw the couple pretending to be oblivious to the intimate scene. They averted his gaze and walked to their apartment.
Matrix was moaning and pushing her hips against him in a gyrating motion. Her breath was minty with a slight tobacco taste underneath. She was so passionate and alive, a complete opposite of her normal mannequin demeanor, that he couldn’t get his bearings. He felt as if he were drowning.
The couple entered their apartment, and there was the telltale clicks of locks and bolts being engaged. Like a switch, Matrix was back into android mode. She stepped back.
“You know them?”
There was a gun in her hand, pointed at the floor. Small, silver and as deadly looking as anything Paul had ever seen.
“Not personally.” His lips felt swollen and his voice was breathless. “They’re not connected to the family, if that’s what you mean.”
She nodded. “Very good.” She slipped the gun into her vest pocket. “We’ll be in touch.” Then she was in the elevator, and the doors were closing.
It took him a moment to compose himself. He shut the door, locked it, considered it for a second, then hooked the chain lock. It was something he never used before, but he wasn’t used to unexpected company either.
He made a quick run-through of the apartment. Everything was where he had left it. Magazines still scattered across the coffee table. Game discs still heaped in front of the entertainment center. Drawers still arranged the same. Even the closet door in the bedroom was still open a half-inch, just the way he had left it that morning. Still, he knew Matrix had gone through everything. She had been careful, but she had gone over every belonging in his apartment. He felt her psychic fingerprints on everything.
Paul peeled off his clothes and let them drop into a heap on the floor. Not a proper way to treat an expensive suit, but at the moment, he didn’t care. He needed to let the tension and excitement of the evening drain out of him.
He stood in the shower and allowed the hot water to beat down on him for ten minutes, not moving, just leaning against the wall under the spray. He couldn’t figure Matrix out. What was she after? What was her agenda? He wasn’t even sure she was really an FBI agent. CIA maybe? She didn’t seem real at times, more surreal. She was like a character out of some 1960s cheesy spy movie Paul had loved as a kid. That is, until he grew up and realized how campy they were.
He lathered up and thought about Matrix’s fit of passion. He wondered if that was all an act or if she really could be that sensual. Would she be like that during lovemaking?
Thinking of her, he masturbated while the shower drowned out the rest of the world and all its problems. He reached a plateau and, try as he might, could not overcome it. Ultimately, it was thoughts of Audrey that brought him over the edge.
***
Joe fixed himself a drink from the bar in his study. Dominic and Manny sat on the couch. Joey was slumped in a leather director’s chair with his feet up on a footstool.
“Are you sure you don’t want something to drink?” Joe asked. “Dominic? Manny?”
“I’m fine,” Dominic answered.
“Just a soda for me, Joe,” Manny said.
Joey was gulping down a glass of cognac too quick to even taste it. Dominic wondered if Joey knew how stupid he looked.
Joe tossed a can of Ginger Ale to Manny.
“Glass?”
“Nah,” Manny said. “I’ll take it from the can.”
The study was decorated to Dominic’s liking. Plenty of places to sit, several reading lamps, a large desk with an overstuffed leather desk chair, and shelves of hardcover books, most of them classics — the type with leather embossed covers, gold gilded edges, and cloth bookmarks sewn into the lining.
Joe didn’t seem the type to sit around reading Melville or Faulkner, but Dominic could see himself with his feet up on the desk, Dostoyevsky in one hand and a glass of cognac swirling in the other. And Dominic would sip cognac properly.
Manny was fumbling to get his thick fingers under the soda can tab. Dominic took the can, opened it, and handed it back to him without a word.
“What did you think of my restaurant?” Joe asked
“Very nice,” Manny said. “Very classy.”
“Should be a great success, Dad. Everyone seemed to love it.” Joey said.
Dominic could almost hear the smooching sound of Joey’s lips on his father’s ass.
“Dominic?” Joe waited with an expectant eyebrow raised.
“The décor was nice.” Dominic shrugged.
“But?”
“But the food was standard fare and not very well prepared, as well as overpriced. The hired help were a bit cold and stand-offish, and the whole place seemed a bit too prefabricated and not old world enough. Security sucked, too.” Dominic smiled good-naturedly. “That’s just my opinion of course.”
Manny grunted, and Joey snorted, probably thinking Joe was going to be angry and insulted. However, Dominic knew Joe valued his opinion and especially his bluntness.
Ever an ass-kisser and schmoozer, Joey would never understand that. It was why, in Dominic’s opinion, Joey would never be able to run the family. Not like Joe. Dominic was more cut out for that mold.
“I agree,” Joe said with a smile. Dominic smiled back. He felt Joey’s eyes on him.
Joe said, “The restaurant has potential, but everything Dominic said, I noticed myself. Still, the problems can be corrected.” He ambled behind his desk and sat down. “Cigar?” Joe offered it to them from a small humidor attached to the corner of his desk.
Dominic felt Manny stir next to him.
“No thanks, Joe,” he answered for the both of them. Manny would bitch about it later, but he couldn’t bear the thought of smoking in a room full of books even though Joe probably smoked in this room all the time, unaware of the damage it was causing to the fine editions around him. That, Dominic thought, was truly a crime.
“I’ll take one, Dad.”
Joey managed to get to his feet and reach the cigar. He nearly tumbled over the footstool, but managed to catch himself in time. Dominic snickered loud enough for him to catch it. Joey’s glare made it worthwhile.
“On to business,” Joe said.
Dominic cut in: “Before we get into the meat, there’s something I want to bring up…suggest anyway. There’s a kid. His name is John Mancini. Little John. Good loyal kid, trustworthy, that sort of thing. I think he’d be a great candidate for that liaison position you were talking about, Joe.”
“Liaison position?” Joey sputtered.
“The courier that we need from the home base to the new warehouse facility.”
Joe said, “Joey knows what job you’re talking about. It’s just that we already filled that position. You met him tonight.”
“Not the farm boy,” Dominic said. “Don’t tell me it’s the farm boy.”
“You have reservations about Paulie?”
“It’s not that,” Joey said. “It’s because I recommended him. Dominic doesn’t trust my decisions.” He sounded more whiny than sympathetic, which gave Dominic a bit of satisfaction. Joe hated whiners almost as much as he did.
“Dominic doesn’t trust anyone’s decisions,” Joe said. “Not even mine, which is why I trust him so much. He’s not a ‘yes’ man.”
“Look, I just think that we should check the guy out before we give him a position with that much responsibility,” Dominic said.
“I think so too,” Manny said.
“Give me a break.” Joey sighed.
Dominic cleared his throat. It was a signal to Manny that meant, Don’t try to help, please.
“I understand your concerns, Dom, and I appreciate your caution in these matters. It’s just that…” Joe leaned back and sipped his drink. “Sometimes I think you’re too cautious. I don’t know, maybe it’s this young blood I surround myself with. It makes me reckless at times.” He winked at Joey. Joey let out a lewd chuckle.
Dominic’s face remained expressionless. He glanced at Manny, who was smiling appreciatively.
“Besides,” Joe said, “we’ve done the appropriate security checks. The man passed without a hitch.”
“It just seems rather quick,” Dominic said. “Why not put him in a job where he’s easier to keep an eye on?”
“But I’m counting on you to keep an eye on him anyway. Besides,” Joe said, “you know this position requires someone who’s good with numbers as well as computers. I want to funnel all of the finances through the main warehouse upstate. Romano has shown he’s good with both.”
He met Joe’s eyes; he had worked for Joe for over ten years, worked closer with him than any other Tagliani employee had ever managed. He knew the man’s subtle looks and tone of voice well enough to read his mind. Joe was saying, Go with me on this, Dom. If I’m wrong, we’ll take care of it later.
Dominic nodded. “Whatever you say, Joe.”
“Good. Let’s move on to other business.”
“And when we’re finished,” Dominic said, “I’d like you to show me the way to the roof. I assume the man up there goes through the attic?”
“Sure,” Joe said. “Why do you want to go up there?”
“Just some business I need to take care of,” Dominic answered. “It won’t take long.”
***
The car was standard government issue — a boxy, bluish-gray Ford. Ugly but practical, which is how Matrix preferred it. She cared more about efficiency and practicality than appearance.
She sat in the passenger seat with her long legs stretched out as far as the floor space allowed. The window was open enough for her to hold the lit end of a cigarette through and flick ashes onto the curb.
They were parked across the street from Paul’s apartment building, his living room and bedroom lights visible from their position. Halloran sat with his knees bracing the steering wheel and his right finger pressed against a wireless earpiece.
“Anything?” Matrix exhaled a line of smoke through the window opening into the night air.
“First the shower,” Halloran said. “Now the sounds of a television. Interesting.”
“How so?”
Halloran spread his hands out in front of him. “He does not sing or whistle. He does not talk to himself. He doesn’t call anyone. Nothing.”
“Are you sure he’s even in there?”
“Yes. Sometimes I hear him walking, as if he is pacing. Also, opening and closing doors.”
“If he’s restless,” Matrix said, “then he must be deep in thought. My visit must have disturbed him. I wonder why.”
“He does not trust you.”
“I never thought he would.”
Halloran removed the earpiece and started the car. He said, “He does not need to trust you. He needs to do exactly what you tell him to do.”
“He will, Monty. He will.” Matrix stared at Paul’s window as they drove past the building.
***
“Hey chief!”
Startled by Dominic’s voice, the guard on the roof whipped around and almost lost hold of his rifle. He had been standing over the skylight, his face illuminated by the soft glow of Audrey’s bedroom light.
“Give me a hand here,” Dominic said.
He had come up through a trap-door in the attic, the opening of which seemed to be designed for a ten-year-old. He knew Manny was going to have a terrible time climbing through especially with the ladder.
The guard put the rifle down and walked over.
“Mr. Carelli?” The man extended his hand and helped Dominic up onto the roof. “It’s been a while.”
Dominic brushed himself off and straightened his sleeves.
“Jesus, you have to do that every day?” He recognized the guard as one of Joe’s former drivers. He was big and beefy, his cheeks tinged red from the night air.
“Yeah, I’m used to it by now.”
He was dressed in black pants, baggy sweater, scarf and topcoat: all black.
“Come on, big man,” Dominic called down to Manny. He said to the guard, “Give me a hand with him, chief.”
Manny’s head popped into view of the opening as he struggled up the rickety ladder. The guard grabbed him under one shoulder and Dominic took the other. Manny was already huffing and puffing, and each wooden step groaned under his bulk.
“Christ, Dom. I don’t know if I’ll make it through the hole.”
“Yeah, you will.” And he did, although each shirt button snagged the lip of the opening.
“The tricky part will be getting you back down,” Dominic said. “We might have to rub a little butter on you.”
“Don’t talk about butter. All this climbin’ made me hungry.” Manny straightened himself up and took a deep breath.
“Nice view.” Dominic looked around the skyline. He felt the guard watching him with a mixture of curiosity and unease.
Manny said, “Gets kinda cold up here.”
“Yeah, you really have to bundle up.” The guard clutched his coat tighter around himself. “So Mr. Carelli, what can I do for you?”
“Well chief, I thought I might come up here for a quick inspection. You know?” Dominic picked up the rifle. “Springfield 308. Nice.” He slid the bolt back, inspected it, and then sighted it along the buildings across the street. The scope on it was powerful enough to make out cracks in the mortar between the bricks. “Must get boring up here, huh?”
“No, not so much.”
Dominic swept the gun around until it was pointed at the guard, who put his hands up and laughed nervously.
“Whoa.” His voice shook. “Easy, Mr. Carelli.”
“Relax, I’m not gonna shoot ya.” Dominic put the gun down. “Jeez, don’t be so paranoid.” He motioned for the man to come over to him. “C’mere, I want you to see something.”
Dominic put his arm around the guard’s shoulders and pointed down into the skylight. Most of Audrey’s room was visible, as was the canopied bed. From the angle, they could see Audrey lying on the bed, still dressed in her gown, with a comforter pulled around her. The canopy hid most of her, but they could still see her face and one leg poking from beneath the covers.
“Does she always sleep in her clothes with the light on?”
The guard shrugged. “I dunno. I don’t think so.”
“Well you should know ’cause you’ve been spying on her.”
The guard started to move away, but Dominic clamped his fingers on his shoulder.
“She’s cute, don’t you think?”
“I guess. If you say so, Mr. Carelli. Listen, I didn’t mean no disrespect.”
“It’s okay.” Dominic turned him away from the skylight. “I didn’t come up here to kill you. Just a couple of concessions on your part and this whole thing will be forgotten. Capisce?”
“Okay, okay.” The guard was nodding, probably relieved to be alive. That type of fear was good to instill in people. It kept them in line and loyal. The truth was, Dominic would never consider killing someone for such a trivial matter, but he didn’t want anyone else to know that. Plus, the man would have to be taught a lesson.
“First, a transfer. No more rooftop surveillance. You’re going back to the trenches.”
That one was hard for him to swallow, but what choice did he have? The man nodded.
“And second, a little physical reminder to make sure you remember.”
He looked at Dominic, then Manny, his eyes going wide.
“Now don’t panic,” Dominic said. “I’m not talking broken bones or multiple contusions. Just one shot. A little bruising. That’s all. Okay?”
Before he could answer, Dominic pushed him toward Manny.
Manny said, “Where you want it? Head or gut?”
“Wait. Just wait.” The guard was breathing hard and despite the cold, his face was shiny with sweat.
“Okay,” he said, finally. “The gut.” He took a breath and closed his eyes, visibly tensing his body.
“The head, Manny,” Dominic said.
“Huh?” The man barely had time for surprise as Manny landed a blow to his head with a sickening crack like a brick hitting bone. Then the man stumbled backward, straight toward Audrey’s skylight.
The universe was suspended, time frozen while the cosmic forces shifted and contemplated the turn of events. The man’s legs stopped at the edge of the skylight, his body caught in a limbo between regaining its balance and falling backward through the glass. His arms spun wildly as if he were trying to clutch hold of air molecules. As his balance was lost and he was about to smash through the skylight, Dominic’s hand whipped out and grabbed hold of his scarf. Dominic snatched him back from gravity’s jaws and held him there until he stopped wobbling on his feet.
“You okay?”
The man looked at Dominic, confused. Awareness filtered back into his eyes, one of which was slowly starting to swell and close.
“Can you walk?”
The man nodded.
“Go with Manny, and get some ice for your eye. Tomorrow morning, report to the docks for your new work assignment.”
He mumbled a reply that might have been “okay.”
“One other thing.” Dominic took hold of his jaw and forced his eyes to meet his own. He made sure there was enough clarity in them, that the man was fully conscious.
“If you talk about anything you might have seen while you were doing your peeping trick, and I don’t care if you watched the girl reading ‘Cosmo’ or walking around naked, if you talk about it, if you say anything that may cast aspersions-”
The guard scrunched his eyebrows at that one. Too lofty, Dominic thought. Better bring it back to street level.
“Don’t disrespect her,” Dominic said. “Don’t say anything that disrespects her, or disrespects Joe. If you do, you’ll get another visit from us. Only next time, it won’t be so nice. And it’ll be the last.”
He released the jaw.
“Nod if you understand.”
The man did, still a little shaky and not altogether coherent, but enough to register Dominic’s words.
“Good.” Dominic patted the man’s cheek. “Now help Manny back downstairs, and take care of that eye. Leave me your coat, too. I’m gonna stay up here until your replacement arrives, and I don’t want to catch fuckin’ pneumonia.”
He took off the topcoat, still in a daze, and handed it to Dominic, who slipped it around his shoulders.
The man went down the ladder first and helped Manny find his footing. Dominic looked down through the opening and said: “Manny, the new guy should be here within the hour. Wait for me downstairs.”
“You got it,” Manny said.
Dominic picked up the rifle, slung it over his shoulder, and walked the perimeter of the rooftop. He looked down at the cars on the street and across to the other buildings. He looked everywhere but at the skylight.
***
Audrey stirred and opened her eyes. The clock on the nightstand read a little past one AM. She blinked and looked up, hoping to see some stars before she fell back asleep, but the night sky was blocked from her view. A long, black topcoat was spread across the skylight.
Audrey wondered at its significance, but her eyelids were too heavy, and soon, she was fast asleep.
Author’s Commentary:
Lots of shifts in perspectives in this chapter. I think it almost gets away from me, so maybe there were too many shifts, I don’t know.
My favorite part of the whole chapter (and it was a rambling one, I’ll admit) was the scene where Manny is fumbling with the soda can and Dominic takes it, opens it, and hands it back to him, all without a word. There is so much in that interaction that should tell you everything you need to know about their work relationship/friendship.
I also like when Dominic is talking to the guard and realizes he has to “dumb” down what he’s saying. Obviously, Dominic is more cultured and educated than the other mob guys. You’ll get his backstory later in in the book.
You have your backstory on Audrey now. So what do you think? Damsel in distress or femme fatale?
If you answered “both,” I’m inclined to agree with you.
I like the way she tries to pry at Dominic’s armor, but doesn’t quite get through. Or does she? The last line he says to her before leaving the room… I feel like there was something there.
And he makes it a point to deal with the guy on the roof himself rather than just telling Joe to replace him.
And it’s important to him that the guard doesn’t spread gossip about her.
And he won’t allow himself to look at her through the skylight even though she’s asleep, even throwing the coat over it to quell any temptation.
Hmm…
Do you think there’s a spark there? That could be trouble.