Bound By Blood: The Rise of a Mafia Prince Page 16

  The room became still and quiet. The only sound that could be clearly heard was the humming of the air conditioner. After several minutes of talking among themselves, Anthony was asked to step out of the office. He walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway and waited patiently.

  “The kid has a lot of heart wanting to take on Carlo.” Mr. Spinelli said. “And if you need, I’ll vouch for’em.”

  “That’s fine, but that’s not enough. We need to know this kid is on the level. The story he told about Sal, he’s right about that. The boys called me and told me Sal was going to try and move in on our operations, but I want to find out what this kid is really made of.” Don Giovanni said.

  “How?” Vincent asked.

  “Let him deal with the problem we’re having in the third ward.” Carmine Giovanni answered. “Call him back in here.”

  Mr. Spinelli called Anthony back into the office. “Have a seat. We discussed the problem and came to an agreement. We all think a test is a good idea. If you do this thing for us, we will help you in your problem. But, if you fail, we never had this meeting and we never offered you any help, understood?”

  Anthony nodded.

  “Good. There’s this guy, Jackson. He owes us some money from a gambling debt, but the bastard doesn’t want to pay. You find him, get our money and then we’ll know you can handle working for us.” Mr. Spinelli sat back and waited to see what Anthony was going to say or how he would react.

  “That’s it? That’s my test, get your money from some scumbag who wont pay up?” Anthony asked puzzled.

  “It’s not as easy as it sounds. This fucken guy runs every time he sees one of us coming. We even tried to send O’Malley and he still got away.” Mr. Spinelli said.

  “You tell me where this guy is and I’ll have your money in no time. That’s a promise.” Anthony was ready to do this tonight. “No offense to you Mr. O’Malley.”

  “Most of the time, he hangs out at a place called Clicks. It’s a black nightclub in the third ward. This guy has lots of friends, so getting him isn’t going to be as easy as you think. We’ll give you a couple of days to try to get our money…” Mr. Spinelli paused. “Oh by the way, there’s one more think, to make sure you get the money from him and no one else, we want you to bring back a memento…”

  Anthony looked at Mr. Spinelli and smiled. “Like what, his head?”

  “Jackson wears a large platinum chain around his neck. You bring that back with our money, that way we know you got the money from him and him only.”

  Anthony shook hands with several of the men in the office, before exiting. The late evening air chilled him to the bone. He briskly walked to his car and headed home, knowing that Mr. Spinelli was now on his side. Soon he would know all the answers to his many questions. He turned the corner to his street and pulled his car into his garage. All the lights in Anthony’s house where off, he began to cover the precious automobile, when he felt a hand grab him by the shoulder and spin him around. One hard punch in his mid-section caused Anthony to double over.

  “You fucking asshole! I thought we got rid of you? Now you think you’re going to marry Michael’s sister, you got some balls!” The stranger in the dark shadows landed several more hard punches into Anthony’s face and stomach. The assailant held Anthony up by his shirt and threw him up against the garage wall. “Shh, shut the fuck up and listen. If I were you, I’d get the fuck out of town and never show my face around here again. This is just a warning, next time I’ll put a bullet in that pretty face of yours.” The stranger in the dark shadows let Anthony’s body fall to the concrete floor. He turned and began to walk away, but not before he gave Anthony several kicks in the stomach.

  When the assailant left, Anthony sat there, resting on the bumper of his car. His legs spread eagle. Several hard coughs produced reddish phlegm. He knew from the pain in his side, he had several broken ribs. Anthony placed all his weight on the bumper of his car, as he tried to rise to his feet. After several agonizing tries, Anthony managed to get to his feet. He started to stand straight up, but the pain dropped him back to his knees.

  The coughing became more intense and produced more blood. Anthony knew he had to summon for help or he’d die in his own garage. With every ounce of energy, he pushed himself up on top of the hood and eased his way to the driver’s side door, where he collapsed on the car horn.

  When Anthony opened his eyes, he found himself in a strange, but familiar place. He reached up to wipe the sleep from his eyes, but the soft touch of Helen brought his arm back down to his side. “Helen?” Anthony’s voice was rough and his mouth felt dry.

  “Don’t try to talk, you need your rest.” Helen placed her soft finger against Anthony’s dry lips. “The doctor said you have a couple of broken ribs and a collapsed lung. He said we where lucky to find you when we did or you would have bleed to death.” A small stream of tears fell down Helen’s cheek.

  “How did you find me?” Anthony asked somewhat puzzled.

  “You must have collapsed on the car horn.” Helen gave Anthony another sip of his water. “Please try not to move. Do you remember what happened?”

  Anthony thought about what the assailant had said, but he knew that would only upset Helen.

  “Visiting hours is almost over. This patient needs his rest. You can come back tomorrow when he feels better.” The nurse insisted. She carefully removed Anthony’s I.V. bag and replaced it with a full one.

  Helen leaned down and kissed Anthony on the lips. “We have to go, but we’ll be back tomorrow. I love you.”

  Anthony’s mom didn’t say much. She leaned in and kissed her son goodnight. “I love you too.”

  The following morning, Anthony awoke to see two fine dressed men standing at the foot of his bed.

  “Good morning Mr. Sakakini.”

  “Who the hell are you guys?” Anthony asked.

  “My name is agent Jonathan Shepherd and this is my partner agent Edward Hill. We’re with the Federal Bureau of Investigations.” Both men flashed their credentials.

  “F.B.I.? What’s the F.B.I. want with me?” Anthony asked puzzled.

  “We’re curious to know what happened last night?” Both men stood on either side of Anthony’s bed.

  “I got the crap kicked out of me, that’s what happened. Why do you want to know?”

  “Anthony? You don’t mind if I call you Anthony, do you?” Agent Shepherd asked.

  “My friends call me Anthony.”

  “Anthony…” Agent Shepherd interrupted. “We have information from a reliable source that tells us you are connected with organized crime. Our source also tells us, that you’re thinking about starting your own crew.” Agent Shepherd sat on the edge of Anthony’s bed, while he spoke.

  “Organized crime? Crew? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the mob. I’m talking about Costra Nostra, the mafia. Any of that ring a bell?” Agent Shepherd didn’t like to be toyed with.

  “I have no idea what the hell you’re talking about. What’s the mafia?”

  Agent Shepherd glared in Anthony’s direction and began to chuckle. “Let me ask you something; do you think I’m here to play games with you? Are you yanking my chain? Are you trying to get on my bad side?”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” Anthony asked furiously. “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I’m not going to answer any more of your fucken questions.”

  “Who the hell do you think you’re talking too? I’m not one of your cronies.” Agent Shepherd got up from the bed and inched closer to Anthony.

  Just then, Anthony’s doctor walked in the hospital room. “Can I help you gentlemen?”

  Agent Shepherd turned and glared at the doctor. “Please wait outside, we’re in the middle of something.”

  “Oh really? Who’s we?” The good doctor asked.

  Both agents flashed their badge.

  “That’s great, but this man needs his rest. You gentlemen can come back tomorr
ow, when he has more strength.”

  “We only have a few more questions.” Agent Shepherd turned and stared at Anthony’s smiling face.

  “I’m sorry.” The good doctor interrupted. “But Anthony needs his rest.” The good doctor held the door open.

  The two agents looked annoyed, as they slammed their little black notebooks and stormed out of the hospital room.

  “Thanks doc, I owe you one.” Anthony breathe a sigh of relief.

  “I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you ever again.”

  “Come on doc, admit it; you missed me.” Even a smile seemed painful for Anthony.

  “Yeah, like a hole in the head.”

  “Hey, is that how you treat all your patients?” Anthony asked.

  “No.” The good doctor fired back. “Just my repeat costumers.”

  “Doc, I thought we had something special?”

  “You know, for someone who came in here in such critical condition, you sure recover quickly.”

  “Yeah, well I guess you can say I’m charmed.” Anthony sat up so the good doctor could take a good look at his wounds.

  “What’s going to happen when your charm runs out?” The good doctor asked.

  “There you go again doc, worry, worry, worry. You know that’s not good for your health.”

  “Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” The doctor walked to the door and stepped out into the hallway.

  “See you later doc.” The light from the hallway darkened, as the door slowly closed.

  The following morning, Anthony slowly opened his eyes and saw Mr. Spinelli sitting in his room. He could tell something was wrong, from the expression on Mr. Spinelli’s face. Anthony slithered up his pillow and raised his bed to get a better look.

  “Hey kid, how you feeling?”

  “I’m sore, but alive.” Anthony answered.

  “The guys and I wanted to come down and see how you doin. Can I get you anything?”

  “No thanks, I’m fine.” Anthony had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.

  “Well…” Mr. Spinelli paused. “I know you need your rest.” He got up and began to walk to the hospital room door. “I’ll be sure to tell the boys you’re doing fine.”

  “Mr. Spinelli, you didn’t happen to see my mother or Helen out there, did you?”

  Vincent Spinelli stopped by the door. He stood motionless, with his back facing Anthony. He quickly wiped away the tears from his eyes, before turning back around.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me?” Anthony asked. “Something happened?”

  After a minute of absolute silence, where the only sound that could be heard was the sound of them breathing. Mr. Spinelli looked up at Anthony. “The life we choose is a dangerous one. We fear that one day our enemies will come and end it all. We fear that our good friend today, maybe our enemy tomorrow. But, as far as our family is concerned, everyone knows our code. The family is off limits. No matter what, family is off limits.”

  “Whatta saying?” Anthony’s voice deepened.

  Mr. Spinelli moved in closer. “Last night, someone dishonored our code…” He paused to clear the lump from his throat. The silence filled the room. Anthony sat deathly still and waited for Mr. Spinelli to continue. “They went after your family. I’m sorry.”

  “Are you trying to tell me that someone one killed my mother? I want to see her!” Anthony insisted.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t give a shit what you think!” Anthony started to get out of bed. He grabbed the end of the I.V. and ripped it out of his wrist. The sudden movement tore open his stitches; blood began to seep through his hospital gown.

  “Anthony, please get back in bed!” Mr. Spinelli begged. “I have to tell you something else; she wasn’t alone.”

  “Oh god no! Tell me it wasn’t Helen?” Anthony’s heart felt like someone had carved it out with a butter knife and stepped on it with spiked shoes. He fell to his knees and wept.

  Mr. Spinelli bent down and took Anthony into his arms.

  “What happened?” Anthony asked, still curled up in Mr. Spinelli’s arms like a small child.

  “Late last night, while waiting on a train to cross an intersection, someone pulled up next to them and opened fire.”

  Anthony’s somber mood quickly turned to rage.

  “The cops think it might have been a car jacking gone horribly wrong.” Mr. Spinelli added.

  “This wasn’t a car jacking! It was a hit that Michael or Carlo ordered.” Anthony’s rage shifted to a psychotic expression that Mr. Spinelli clearly saw in Anthony’s eyes.

  “Why would Michael kill his own sister?”

  “He didn’t know that was his sister in the car. He thought it was me and my mother.” In Anthony’s mind all the pieces fill into place. But, Mr. Spinelli thought Anthony was loosing his mind.

  “This is a lot of bad news all at once. I know your upset, but you need to think things through…”

  Listen to me damn it…” Anthony shouted. “I know what I’m talking about. Let me ask you this; who’s car was Helen driving when the hit happened?”

  “Yours.” Mr. Spinelli said hesitatingly. He didn’t want to add fuel to Anthony’s fire, which was ragging out of control.

  “You see? Don’t you get it? The windows on my car are dark in tint, the kind that make it virtually impossible to see through…” Anthony waited a few minutes, so the information he was telling Mr. Spinelli would register in his mind.

  “And?”

  “And…” Anthony was becoming frustrated with Mr. Spinelli. “Whoever Michael or Carlo sent to whack me pulled up to the car; saw two people; opened fire and assumed it was me and my mother. What they didn’t know was; they ended up killing my mother and Helen.”

  “Why?” Mr. Spinelli began to see the picture; he just needed all the pieces to put the puzzle together.

  “Michael still thinks I had something to do with the passing of his father. He resented the idea of Helen and I getting married. We’ve butted heads from the moment I met that fuckin bastard and as for Carlo, he wants me dead, because of the Sal situation.”

  “So the only way Michael could have prevented you from marring his sister was to have you eliminated.” Mr. Spinelli finally knew what Anthony was trying to say.

  “There is only one way of being sure about the whole story, I need to speak to Frankie”.

  “Do you think he’ll talk to you?” Mr. Spinelli asked.

  “I’ll make him talk.”

  “Anthony you can’t walk up to him and start asking him questions. You’re a marked man. You’re going to need protection; you know Michael will try again. I’m going to have a couple of men posted outside your room.” Mr. Spinelli helped Anthony back to the bed. They both began to discuss a way to get Frankie alone. Anthony knew it wouldn’t be hard to grab him, he knew all of Frankie’s hangouts. He just needed a secluded location to persuade Frankie to talk. Both men paused while the nurse checked Anthony’s torn stitches and changed his bandages. They both watched her leave, before the resumed their conversation.

  “My first priority is to find a nice resting place for my mother.” Anthony muttered. He could feel his eyes beginning to shut. “Then I’ll take care of the people responsible for the death of her and Helen.”

  “Get some sleep kid.” Mr. Spinelli said softly. “I’ll take care of all the arrangements.” Vincent got up from Anthony’s bed and walked to the door of the hospital and stepped out into the hallway.

  “How’s the kid doing?” Asked Carmine.

  “When I told him about the hit, he told me he thinks it might have been Carlo or Michael. Did you know he was going to marry Helen?” Mr. Spinelli asked Carmine.

  “That’s a shame. I want you to put the word out nobody touches this kid. I want you to find your two best guys to watch this kid from now on. I have a feeling Anthony is going to clean house and I want the him to get his chance.” Carmine Giovanni b
elieved in the parable, an eye for an eye.

  Anthony pulled open the doors of the church and walked in. Earlier this morning, the good doctors released him and now he was standing inside the church, were Mr. Mazellie had his funeral. The smell of incense filled the large cathedral. Anthony moved closer to the marble basin and dipped his finger inside and made the sign of the cross, against his chest. His eyes shifted forward toward the front of the alter, where a dark oak casket was placed in between two large assortment of flowers. He made his way to the front of the nearly empty church. Most of the people there were Mr. Spinelli’s men. Anthony’s heart was at peace. He paused a few short steps away, to wipe the tears from his eyes, before he saw his mother. He took a deep breath and leaned forward. There, dressed in a black dress was his mother. Her face was pale. The makeup on her face made her look almost clownish. Anthony bent down and kissed her forehead. It felt cold and clammy. Like kissing a block of ice.

  “Hey kid, how you doin?” Mr. Spinelli stood by Anthony and supported his weight.

  “She seems to be at peace.” Anthony said, as he stared at his mother’s lifeless body. “I make you this promise ma; I will make the people that did this pay with their life.”

  The short line of cars formed behind the black hearse. Anthony watched as several men from the funeral home gently guided the coffin into the black hearse.

  “I hope you like where I chose for your mother’s final resting place.”

  The small funeral precession moved down the streets of Houston with ease.

  Meanwhile, across town Helen’s body was being laid to rest next to her father. A large number of flowers covered the ground above her. Mrs. Mazellie sat with her hands in her lap and blankly stared at her daughter’s coffin. She had buried a husband and now a daughter all in the same year. The heartache she felt was over whelming. She was planning a wedding for her only daughter, but wasn’t prepared for a funeral. Michael sat by his mother and gave her comfort. He hadn’t told her that he was the one that had a hand in his own sister’s tragic end. He glanced over at his brother, who was sitting quietly staring at the ground beneath him.

  Sonny hadn’t said a word since he found out about the death of his sister. He knew how she died and deep down he blamed his brother. He wanted the marriage between Anthony and his sister. He thought it would patch the hatred Michael felt for Anthony and help strengthen the bound between them. But now, his heart was just filled with pain, pain that made him bitter and angry towards his own flesh and blood. Sonny could feel his eyes fill with tears. The tears slowly fell down his cheeks and land on the ground that soon would cover his sister’s coffin.