Animus (22 page)

The man sitting with his back to the patio door, smoking a cigar with a six-pack within arm’s reach on a Saturday night didn’t turn when the sliding door opened. Alfonzo stared at the figure’s back, inhaling the rich tobacco from Cuba, feeling a sense of dejá vu. Alberti often appeared announced and he missed the old man’s visits. But, he realized despite the many losses over the years, there were gains. In the symbolism of the beer lived Vincent because he too liked to drink. Alfonzo smiled, it was actually nice to see Nico. He represented Alberti and Vincent in image and spirit.

Nico heard the
homeowner and waited for him to get comfortable, lean back and then survey the night sky. Cigar clutched in the corner of his mouth, a beer was removed from the plastic ringer and shoved at the figure. “Drink with me.”

The
can was taken, lid opened and the cold brew gulped. The froth was wiped away before the homeowner spoke. “Cousin, I’m surprised to see you.”

“Is it a good surprise?”
Nico asked opening a beer and then settling back again with it. He stubbed out the cigar and placed it on the deck.

“Yes, bueno.”

A nod, a sip of beer and reflection in the dark between men followed. “I’ve begun painting in oils.”

“Are you any good?”

“A goddamn Picasso!”

“I bet you are.”

Another sip, more of a slurp as the pool shimmered beneath the moon. “I have no secrets with you, anymore except one.”

The hand bearing a jeweled ring clutched the cool can, waiting and listening.
Uncle had taught Alfonzo the importance of patience and strategy. Vincent, humor and duty. With Nico he learned many lessons, fortitude, forgiveness and love are only a few.

“When a man denies he
is blind, there is darkness. But, when a man accepts he is blind, then comes light,” is the Albertism Nico recited.

Alfonzo chuckled.

“Or vibrant colors.”

“Or dancing people.” A smirk from
Nico’s lips at the friendly banter he missed with his father. “And at times truth.”

“And the truth primo you see?”

“I have missed these moments of friendship. I felt such pain when I saw you lying as in death, cugino. It is the ache I felt for my brother. I love you shit-head!”

“And I you primo.”

“Where’s Sergio?” Nico asked out of the blue. He didn’t like getting sappy.

“Probably in the guest house watching porn.”

“How’d it work out with the doc and the cop?”

“
Shit rhymes doesn’t it?” Alfonzo grinned. “The little girl didn’t have to quit her job but I’m glad she did. I guess the incident is why the doc took the internship in Switzerland with the neurosurgeon and she’s with him.”

“Good
strategy on your part.” Nico stated. “You know there are rules of La Costra Nostra. One of them is not associating with cops.”

Alfonzo found Nico’s reference to an organization which copied some of the traditions of The Circle of Protectors
in poor taste. “Since when does an ancient society such as yours follow the dictum of a faction yours precedes?”

Nico
had tested the kid and gave Alfonzo an A for his knowledge of the Giacanti history. “I don’t, just checking if you did.”

“
We make rules and adapt them as we please primo, besides some of their guidelines are not sensible in this day and age. Do not associate with cops,” Alfonzo scoffed. “They do it all the time through bribery and family members on the inside who discard traffic infractions or tips on busts.” Alfonzo waved his ringed hand dismissively, “Ah, we’re another breed. I think it’s best we remain the hierarchal branch and lead.”

“Spoken like a true Giacanti.”
The head of a twin faced his former ward, now brother in arms. “I have seen my mother; she is married to a man which in peaceable times would be family.”

“The king’s descendant, I know Nico.”

Nico sat forward. “How long have you known Alfonzo you little shit?”

“Alberti told me.”

“Ah, my father was a man of secrets. What else do you know?”

“She is blind and you were about to shoot your mother in the head. Tsk, tsk Nico you’re a very bad son.”

“What else do you know, huh?”

“That is all you
’re getting from my mouth, besides I’m sure there’s stuff you haven’t shared.”

“You
r eyes are everywhere cugino.”

“Not everywhere,
Sergio told me.”

“And I thought he’d put a muzzle on
that big mouth.”

“Ha, he can talk a kid with ADHD to sleep.”

“I have come with gifts.” Nico reached up under his seat and pulled out a linen cloth. He opened the cloth to find a Bowie knife. The light caught the handle and accented the polished ivory. The blade was beautiful and deadly. “From me to you cugino, new beginnings.”

Alfonzo grasped
the weapon. Uncle Al’s blade could never be replaced. In a case it sat, broken and locked away. This was from Nico. A man he also admired and a gift he would also cherish, like the wisdom he found in maturity. “Mucho gracias, it is a very nice gift cugino.”

“De nada kid.”

“Ah, you never quit.”

“Habit,
son
!” Nico teased imitating youth’s slang.

Alfonzo chuckled and shook his head. “Man, that’s pitiful. I hope I do not suffer such embarrassing mid-life crises.”

“My second gift.” Nico reached in his pocket and handed Alfonzo a sheet of paper with names and then rose with his beer. “I’m going to give my nephew a slap and then I’m going home. Come visit us soon, cugino.”

A
lfonzo held the paper and peered up at his protector. “I will.” His words were sober. “I see Alberti in you.”

“
I am his son, as much as you are Luzo’s. But, a time may come cugino, when you can no longer sit on neutral soil. Sicily is where you should be, it is where your Italian roots lie.”

“Puerto Rico is home. B
oricua hasta la muerte."

“
E sei anche siciliano fino alla morte,” Nico answered in Italian to remind him of his other roots. “Take care and tell the family hello.”

“You too, adios.”

Alfonzo watched Nico walked across the lawn. The confident strides of a hunter were swift and strong. When he disappeared from view, Alfonzo read the note. There were names, dates and a location.

Nico
had done his research and uncovered one of Alfonzo’s thorns. Time to pull it out!

CHAPTER THIRTY

The boat skipped across the dark Caribbean Sea toward the island of Aruba. The lights in the distance were getting closer and the men aboard the craft were silent. The sea water held a scent of salt and danger, which Tony breathed in. Alfonzo wore a blank expression, as did the guy in black picking his teeth. Four in total, counting Tony. The man steering the speed boat slowed as they neared the dock, and then shut down the engine completely. He spoke in Spanish to Alfonzo before the craft was aligned with the dock, tethered securely and they jumped on to the wood planks.

There wasn’t a person visible on the beautiful night. A perfect vacation spot for the elite Tony thought as he followed the men away from the private dock and down flight of sturdy timber and stones to sand. The lights he’d seen came from a window of beach house. A deck and holding a colorful umbrella and chairs where night or day a person could relax and gaze to the ocean was heaven for any man.

When Alfonzo called and told him to bring his gear and come out for a chat. He hadn’t expected they’d be on the same private jet and up in the air heading to parts unknown. They landed on an island in the middle of nowhere, off again to board a boat and ended up here. That chat never took place and Tony was smart enough not to ask why. From the looks of it, the conversation was clear. “Somebody’s about to die.”

They stayed to the edge of the grass after the slide-walk on sand and the guy who’d picked his teeth took the lead. In the dark, he blended with the shadows and disappeared. The others tread leisurely forward, strong legs and bulging arms close to their center of gravity. The slight breeze rustling tropical trees was unable to bend muscle. 

Then the man Estefan
returned spoke conspiratorially to his employer and Alfonzo became energized. He took the lead, his tailored slacks and shoes impeccable as always as his feet kicked over grass. Tony had to appreciate the man’s detail to style, no matter the occasion. His short sleeve shirt was a dark blue with pockets and it accented the guy’s torso and neck. Beneath one side of his shirt there protruded a slight bulge from what Tony suspected was a gun holster. His shirt was not tucked in his trousers. When a breeze blew, the fine material waved like a flag fanning to reveal a bone ivory hilt of a sharp blade.

Yes, their visit to this remote vacation retreat was far from social. Tonight was Tony’s indoctrination.

Alfonzo’s lithe arms bulged when he gestured to Estefan to go around the side of the house as they neared the patio. Tony could see clearly inside the home from their angle, which wasn’t hard to do since the architecture incorporated natural lighting and to achieve this, required large glass windows.

Three guys were seated at a table, laughing over their plates, enjoying an after dinner conversation with liquor and smoke. One of them he recognized from TV. The Chairman of the New York Stock Exchange who appeared regularly on the business networks discussing trends and the politics’ effects on stocks politics had on stocks.  Seth Meyer, yeah that was his name, Tony remembered just as Alfonzo slid the unlocked door open and walked inside. “Buenos noche,” he said with a sneer.

Seth put his hand on the table to rise and before he could do so, Alfonzo’s blade speared it to the wood. He sat with a yelp, leaning over in pain.

“Anybody fucking else want to get up?”

The men stayed in their seats as Alfonzo’s guy circled the table to check them for weapons. Estefan appeared from what may have been the living-room and gave his boss a nod. Tony figured he’d gone to check the house and gave Alfonzo confirmation there wasn’t anyone else in the home.

The room was silent. Every eye was on the well-dressed Capo de tutti that cared nothing about the blood running down Seth’s hand or his tears. “A meeting with friends. Muy bueno,” Alfonzo commented eyeballing their shocked faces. “You fucked with my business after I made you suckers rich, huh?”

Seth spoke up, “No…no…it’s not like that.”

The action from Alfonzo came quick. His hand held the weapon Tony had suspected lie beneath his shirt. He squeezed off a shot and put a bullet in Seth’s head. “Quiet!”

The blood splattered across the table, and then the lying backstabber’s face slapped the plate causing the utensils to clatter before settling still. Alfonzo yanked the knife free and wiped the blood on Seth’s sleeve. “Nobody talks until I say so, comprende?”

The diners nodded, one continued to smoke.

“Is there anyone else not present for this gathering that should be?” he addressed his former associates.

“We would not tell you. We are dead men tonight, why rat on others.”

“You just did.” Alfonzo stated.

“We die, others come. Greed makes men fiends.  Holding on to so much when you are undeserving and have not breathed our struggle Don Alfonzo is the reason you have many enemies and always will.”

Alfonzo scoffed; ah he’d gotten to the core of their animosity. Aside from jealousy, the motivation was hate. “Nice of you to share your philosophy, but that isn’t what I asked?” He stepped behind the chair of the Italian, dressed in the fine leisure clothes. His lavish life-style was evident by the rosy cheeks. What a greedy swine. The serrated steel cut smoothly across the meaty neck, opening up gory flesh to display the fat of a human pig.

The final man at the table hadn’t uttered a word. He took a pull of his cigarette and blew smoke to the side without fear. Alfonzo smirked. Of course, it’d be the Russian who’d face him down.  The elder man hadn’t licked his wound apparently from a night of drinking and bad business which resulted in an act of generosity that Alfonzo gladly accepted. The bottle on the table, the best of its kind and distributed around the world was his reason to join the others. Some people can’t relinquish the past or learn from their foolish mistakes. “You’re still upset, I take it,” Alfonzo said taking an empty seat at the table for the dead.

The pale hand holding the cigarette waved in the air dismissively. “Upset, no. Seeking to recoup my losses from an opportunist is appropriate, da?”

Tony listened. These two had the mannerisms of former friends. He detected their disagreement was personal
. Alfonzo’s azure irises were brilliant beneath the low-hanging chandelier. Alfonzo’s opulent ring sparkled just as clear as the fixture suspended from the ceiling.  Tony shifted, and the subtle movement received Alfonzo’s attention. “You said you’ve been scorched Tony. I’ve been burned to the bone.  This man and I have done business many times in the past. He decided to give me a gift. Do you think it is right he wants it back?”