THE FOURTH WATCH (53 page)

And then, one day, Matte Genetassio came back
into her life.

*****

WHEN SHE WAS
working the streets of Worcester in her youth, Helena learned
to be pragmatic. Getting busted was bad for business. The streets
were full of predators, none more dangerous than bad cops. Her pimp
might kick her around a little, and sample the product, but he
didn't want to hurt her so bad that she couldn't work. The odd john
might be a creep, make her do sickening things once he had her
alone, or stiff her on the fee, or rob her - but that's what her
pimp was for. He could usually be counted on to track the john
down, get their money back, and send the asshole back to his fellow
creeps with a message. But the cops were different. They could bust
you enough times that a Judge would give you a jail sentence, and
then where would you be? Sitting in a cell, coming down hard off
your high, getting raped by guards and hungry sisters. You needed a
protector - a cop that would keep the others away. You'd have to
give him free blow jobs, and now and then pay a little graft from
your own pocket, but it kept you in the stream of commerce, where
you could make a living and feed your habit. It was all just part
of doing business.

Matte Genetassio became that guy for her. He
busted her three times before letting her strike a deal with him.
The last time was her eighth, and she was perilously close to doing
time. He made the evidence go away and she walked, but she knew the
next time she'd go down. He protected her after that, but she paid
handsomely for the protection in both trade and cash. She went to
her pimp, to ask if he could cut his take a bit so that she could
keep up with her payments to Matte, but he told her to fuck off,
and he warned her that if that crazy motherfucker cop ever came
knocking on his door, he'd cut her throat before he ran for the
hills. In the end Genetassio drove her out of town, off the street
and into films. She couldn't believe it when he came back into her
life.

It was at a fund raiser for a young Republican
Lawyer named Peter Krause, who was taking a shot at an entrenched
Democratic Congressman. She was chatting with the candidate's wife,
who she knew from the club when, with great irony as it turned out,
she heard her father-in-law say from behind her, "Let me introduce
you to Peter's wife." She turned toward his voice and the smile on
her face froze in place.

"Deputy Chief of Police Matte Genetassio," Red
said, "say Hello to Sara Krause."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Krause,"
Genetassio said, taking Sara's hand lightly in his own, "I want you
to know, we're pulling for your husband. We sure could use a law
and order Republican down there in Washington, to speak up for us
at budget time."

"Amen to that! And this is my son Teddy's wife,
Ellen," Red went on.

Ellen's heart had stopped. "Ma'am," he said,
taking her hand. She felt her blood go cold.

Matte's eyes were smiling, "So nice to see
you."

Red caught none of it. "Well let's get you that
drink, Chief."

"Sounds good, Mr. Whorley," he said as they
moved away.

"Call me Red, for the sweet love of God, how
many times do I have to tell you..."

Sara Krause turned back to Ellen. "Isn't he
charming," she said, and then frowning, "Are you alright,
Ellie?"

"What?" Ellen whispered, her eyes following the
men. Then she caught herself. "Yes, I'm fine, its just a little
warm in here with all these people, I guess."

"It is a little close, isn't it?"

Ellen spent the next hour in terror wondering
if Matte had recognized her as she suspected, and if he had said
anything to her father-in-law. She mingled and sipped a glass of
wine, and stayed close to her husband. But toward the end of the
evening, when Teddy had gone off to the bar, Genetassio suddenly
appeared at her side and said, "Hello, Helena."

She almost jumped out of her skin. Her face
flushed red but she said, "Excuse me?"

Genetassio chuckled softly. "Oh please. I've
been following you in the society pages for quite some time now! I
can't wait to hear how you wormed your way into the Whorley
Family."

"I'm sure I... "

"Listen, we need to get together and talk about
old times," he said, and pressed a business card into her hand. "My
direct number is on that card. Call me on Monday. I've missed
you."

"I don't want to seem rude ... " Ellen
stammered, but it was weak.

"In fact, after you left, a warrant was issued
for your arrest, seems you skipped out on a sex-for-a-fee charge.
'Course you probably didn't know anything about it, what with it
being filed after you skipped." He was looking down at her, talking
softly, smiling, just a polite conversation to anyone that noticed.
"I'd hate to have to pull you in on that warrant, how would that
look to all the blue bloods up at the Country Club?"

Ellen looked at him in horror, and then noticed
that Teddy was coming straight toward them. Genetassio noticed too.
He whispered, "By the way, I loved your films ."

"Well Hello, Chief," Teddy smiled as he
approached. "What are you doing, serving my wife with papers?" He
was looking at the card Ellen held in her hand.

Genetassio grinned back at him, very at ease
with the situation. "No such luck, Mr. Whorley. Your Father
introduced us earlier, and I was just telling Mrs. Whorley, that if
there is anything Worcester's finest can ever do for her, she can
call me directly."

"Well that's very gracious of you, isn't it
Ellen?"

Ellen was staring at the card in her hand as if
she were holding a severed ear, but she recovered nicely and said:
"Yes, thank you Chief... " she frowned at the card ... "Genetassio
is

it?"

"At your service," he said and bowed from the
waist. “Well, I hope you folks enjoy the rest of the evening." And
with that he wandered away.

Teddy handed her a drink, and looked at her
curiously. "He seems nice," she said sipping, "how come everyone is
always sucking up to you Whorley's?"

Teddy laughed at that, and whatever had been in
his face slipped away. "Comes with the territory" he said and
seemed to forget the whole thing.

When she got home that night, after Teddy was
snoring, she cried. She had been so close to getting out, so close
to a real life, so close to putting the past behind her. She knew
what was coming, and she was powerless against it. If anything,
Matte had a tighter grip on her now than ever. He was the keeper of
the secrets that could destroy her. He was going to offer to keep
the secret in exchange for something, part of which would surely be
sex, but there would be more. He had said he'd been watching her
for a while now, so it couldn't be just the sex, or he would have
come for her sooner.

She couldn't stand it. She had to get out of it
somehow. She'd plead with him, beg him to let her get away into her
new life. She would stiffen her will against him, refuse to get
involved with him again. She'd call his bluff and threaten to
expose him for blackmailing her if he said a word. But even in her
own head it all sounded pathetic. Deep into the morning she finally
fell into a shallow sleep, filled with terrifying
dreams.

*****

AND NOW,
as
if the clock had struck twelve, she swirled back into the past.
Matte threatened and demeaned her, stripped away her self esteem
with her clothes - and she did what she had to do, trapped by fear
of what would happen if her Husband, or his Father, found out who
and what she had once been, and now had become again. She hated
him, but she hated herself more, and her self-loathing only
increased when she realized how easily she adapted to her new life.
Teddy was sweet and kind, gentle with her and timid in their
lovemaking. Matte was a big, rough, and demanding man ... he took
her, and used her up, and sickeningly, she found herself
responding. But Matte was extremely careful with her life as a
Whorley. Since she was cooperating with him, he seemed obsessive
about keeping her secrets, beyond cautious with regard to the
timing, location and duration of their trysts. She soon found out
why.

*****

GENETASSIO HAD WATCHED
Ellen patiently, let her embed herself in the
wealthy Whorley Family, and waited for just the right moment to
ambush her. He knew instinctively that his secret would have value
one day, and present him with an opportunity ... so he waited for
the right moment.

And then it came.

Over the years, Matte had developed a large and
intricate street network. In his thirty-plus years as a cop, on
every beat in the city, in every squad on the force, he had left
his mark. He knew everyone, was a powerful political insider and
could reach out ruthlessly into the community. He accomplished the
rare feat of being the go-to guy in the department, while secretly
operating on the street, providing protection to delicate
businesses for a fee, or destroying them. He would stomp gang
members and collar high-profile hoods for the press, and his
notoriety as a crime fighter had fueled his assent through the
ranks to the position of Deputy Chief. But underneath it all, his
network was a powerful force in the neighborhoods that collected
graft and cleared the way for discreet criminal enterprises to
profit, and he was getting rich.

One morning his private cell phone rang. It was
a phone that could never be traced to him, with a number that very
few had. The caller was a Vice Squad Commander and trusted
lieutenant in his network. Matte's organization was well structured
to protect him, layered with loyal people that protected his
anonymity. The man told him he had been approached through channels
by a group seeking protection for a vague, but very large drug
enterprise moving to the East Coast. The intermediaries suggested
that they represented a powerful heroin importer with connections
to the Chinese military. The party had vast resources and intended
to get a foothold for their business, one way or another. They
liked Worcester for reasons that they would make clear at the
appropriate time, but needed high level, reliable and verifiable
protection at this end. Money was not an issue, they would pay what
was necessary. If interested, Matte's associate was given contact
instructions. The catch, his lieutenant told him, was that their
top man would have to meet with ours. This requirement was
non-negotiable. The idea being that these two would know each
other, but no one else would know them. "Sounds like a big fish,"
his man told him. "We've got folks with the Feds, if it's a sting,
we'll know, if not, somebody's gonna get in this thing, might as
well be us."

"Check it out," Matte told him.

It checked. There was no Federal or State law
enforcement involved. If their sources on the West Coast were
right, it was a big outfit with ties to Los Angeles. There was no
way to find out who the top people were, because the whole
operation was set up to shield them. "Kind of like us," The Vice
Commander told him.

Matte chewed his lip, thinking. "We're sure
this ain't the Feds?"

"Positive."

He thought some more. He could meet with this
guy, listen to him, and give him nothing until he was comfortable
with the deal. "Alright," he said, "Set something up, out of state,
just me and him, I'll listen, and if I like what I hear, we'll go
from there. But I'm not even telling him my name until it feels
right."

*****

THEY MET IN
Providence, Rhode Island, on a summer night during the Water
Fire Celebration. The canals were full of floating candles, of
entertainers performing on rafts and long boats packed with
tourists. Anchored barges supported roaring bonfires that reached
into the night. Gas lamps lit the brick pathways that ran along the
banks of the canals and lead to the courtyards that were crammed
with vendors selling from carts. The smell of fried dough, popcorn,
flaming meats and roasting vegetables filled the square where Matte
Genetassio was waiting, and watching the crowd.

"Good evening, Deputy Chief Genetassio," a
voice said from beside him. He nearly jumped out of his skin. The
man standing next to him had appeared out of nowhere. He was
smaller than Matte, but still big and broad shouldered, with dark
skin, wavy brown hair and black eyes. He wore a golf shirt buttoned
to the neck, jeans and a light jacket.

"Jesus, man, you scared the hell out of me,"
Matte said, placing a hand on his chest. "Do I know you?" he said,
but he knew this was the guy.

“No, but allow me to introduce myself. I'm
Salvatore Moltinaldo." The man had not yet looked at Matte, his
eyes off in the crowd. Now he turned to him and smiled, extending
his hand. “It is my real name.” They shook.

"How'd you know my name?" Matte asked, still
smiling, "I always thought that I kept myself pretty well
covered."

Sal shrugged. "We knew by our contact point
that it was going to be someone high up in the police department.
We checked out the top cops and waited to see which one showed up.
It was a little hard at first, because even though we agreed to
come alone, you turned up with five other men."