Sal Gabrini: His House of Cards (18 page)

“Because I’m
a mob boss?”

“No,
silly!
 
I already knew that.”

Sal was
shocked.
 
“You knew it?”

“Of course I
knew it!
 
I’m no idiot.
 
You practically live out of town!
 
And all of those unsavory looking characters
always coming around and asking to speak privately with you.
 
I would have been a fool not to know that you
weren’t running something.”

“Then what
are you happy about?”
 
He took his
handkerchief and handed it to her.

“I’m happy,”
she said, wiping her tears, “because you finally told me.
 
You said no more secrets and lies, and you
kept your word.”
 
She threw her arms
around him.
 
“I love you for that!”

Sal never
dreamed it would go this way.
 
He held
her tightly.
 
But then he thought about
the obvious.
 
He pulled back and looked
at her.

“But aren’t
you worried, Gem, about being married to a man with my baggage?”

Gemma stared
at him.
 
“If it was any other man,
yes.
 
I would be deeply concerned.
 
But it’s you.
 
And I know your heart, Sal.
 
I
know you will never harm anybody who didn’t harm you or yours.
 
So no, I’m not worried.
 
You protect me.
 
You take fantastic care of me.
 
I’m good.”

Sal swelled
up with love and pride.
 
She was a
special lady.
 
He sensed it the moment he
laid eyes on her, although he didn’t act like it.
 
And he pulled her, once again, into his
arms.
 

Early that
next morning, Sal’s cell phone began to ring.
 
Gemma was in his arms, and sound asleep, when he reached onto the nightstand
and answered.
 
It was Angelo Romano, one
of his men.

“We’ve got
him,” Angelo said.

“Where?” Sal
asked.

“The Big
House.”

Sal glanced
at Gemma.
 
She continued to sleep
soundly.
 
“I’m on my way,” he said, and
ended the call.

He gingerly
got his naked body out of bed, dressed in a pair of jeans and a pullover sweat
shirt, grabbed his keys, and headed toward the door.
 
When he looked back, Gemma, to his relief,
was still asleep.
 
His hope was that he
could handle this messy business and get back to her before she even realized
he had gone.

The Porsche
sped onto the driveway of the two-story safe house, stopped in front of the
garage, and Sal stepped out.
 
The front
door was opened by Angelo.

“He’s in the
basement,” Angelo said as Sal entered, and they began heading in that
direction.
 
“You should see him, boss,”
Angelo said.
 
“He’s scared shitless.”

“He’d better
be,” Sal said as he and Ang hurried down the far stairs into the basement.
 
Three other men were down there with a
traumatized Victor, and one tossed a steel rod to Sal.

Sal caught
the rod and walked up to Victor.

“Sal,”
Victor said with a plea in his voice.

“We meet
again,” Sal said as he made his way toward him.

“I don’t
know nothing, Sal,” Victor began explaining but Sal wasn’t interested in conversation.
 
He immediately lifted the rod and began
whaling on Victor.

“
Sal, please
!” Victor screamed, as he
fell out of the chair.

“Who put her
up to it?” Sal asked, as he continued to beat him down with that rod.
 
“I’m tired of this shit, Victor, tell me who!”

“I don’t
know!
 
I swear I don’t!”

Sal
continued to beat him down as blood began to gush.

“I’m dead if
I tell,” Victor finally admitted.

Sal stopped
hitting and stood erect.
 
“No, Victor,”
he said.
 
“You’re dead if you don’t.”

Victor shook
his head in agony.
 
“Sal, please.”

Sal began to
whale on Victor again.
 
“It was Rudy!”
Victor quickly said.
 
“It was Rudy.”

Angelo
looked at Sal.
 
“Rudy?” he asked.

“Rudy
who?”
 
Sal asked Victor.

“Rudy
Balotti.
 
It was Rudy, Sal!”

Sal was
floored.
 
“Rudy Red?”

“He’s the
one behind the whole thing.”

“What whole
thing?
 
What the fuck does Rudy Red have
to do with me?”

“He paid
your employees to file that racial discrimination lawsuit.
  
He made Blanche lie.
 
He had his guys try to kill you that day you
ran me down, and they tried to take out your wife in that courthouse parking
lot.
 
He wants to destroy you.”

“But why?”
Sal asked.

“Because of
the kid.”

Sal
frowned.
 
“What kid?”

“He doesn’t
want you to take the kid.”

“What the
fuck are you talking about?
 
Take what
kid?”

“Your kid,”
Victor said.

“He’s
fucking with you, boss!” Ang yelled.
 
“He’s fucking with you!”

But Sal
couldn’t dismiss it that easily.
 
“Talk,”
he said to Victor.

“Blanche
told him the kid was his,” Victor said, “but it wasn’t.
 
It was yours.
 
But she knew he would kill her if he found out that she was having sex
with you while she was still his girlfriend.”

Sal
frowned.
 
“What are you talking?
 
That was twenty years ago!”

“The kid is
nineteen.
 
Rudy had a DNA test after I
told him the truth.”

“You told
him?” Angelo asked.
 
“Why you cock
sucking snitch!”

“Go on,” Sal
said.
 
He didn’t give a fart who told
Rudy.
 
The fact that there was a kid
bearing his blood, and Rudy knew about it, was the point.

“The test
proved he wasn’t the father,” Victor continued as he fought through unbearable
pain.
 
“Blanche told me she wasn’t
messing with anybody else at that time.
 
Only you and Rudy.”

“What the
fuck are you talking about?” Sal asked with distress in his voice.
 
“Blanche was never pregnant.
 
I remember those days!”

“But she
was!
 
She went to Arizona to stay with
Rudy’s parents, because she didn’t want you to know.
 
But she was pregnant, Sal.
 
She was pregnant with your son.
 
After she and Rudy broke up, he wouldn’t let
her have anything more to do with the boy.
 
And she knew she was dead if she told him the truth.
 
Because he was devoted to that child.
 
It nearly killed him when he found out the
truth.”

Sal nearly
dropped where he stood.
 
“Where’s the
child now?” he asked.

“He’s with
Rudy.
 
He works for Rudy.
 
He’s sometimes in Chicago.
 
He’s sometimes here in Vegas.
 
He’s sometimes in L.A.
 
The plan is for him to take over one
day.
 
He’s a bad motherfucker, Sal.
 
Getting next to him is as impossible as
getting next to Rudy.”

“And Rudy
did a DNA test?” Sal asked.

“The test
came back negative.
 
He found out that
the kid’s not his and went crazy.
 
He
wanted to kill Blanche.
 
I made him give
her another chance.
 
So he decided to
think it through and use her.
 
He was the
one who wanted her to tell your wife.
 
He’s trying to destroy everything you love.”

“Where’s
Blanche?” Sal asked.

Victor shook
his head.
 
“I don’t know,” he said.
 
“I don’t know!
 
She took off and I don’t know where she
went.”

Ang and the
other men looked at their boss.
 
Sal
tossed the rod aside.

“What do we
do, boss?” Ang asked.

“Keep him
here,” Sal said.
 
“Until I find out
what’s going on, keep his ass right here.”

“Will do,
boss,” Ang said, and Sal walked out.

But he
couldn’t stop thinking about that conversation.
 
Blanche was pregnant all those years ago, pregnant with his child, and
he had no idea?
 
The child was with that
gangster Rudy Balotti all this time?
 
Raised by Rudy?
 
Sal knew he had
to find Blanche first, and then Rudy.
 
He
had to get answers fast.
 
And then, he
thought with pain in his heart, he had to see his son.
 
A son who probably was going to hate
him.
 
And Gemma, he thought with even
more distress.
 
This might be too much
for Gemma to take.

But when he
drove onto his street, ready to tell Gemma what he had just been told himself,
two cars that had been parked around the corner cranked up and drove up behind
him.
 
Sal knew an ambush when he saw
one.
 
He floored it, speeding past his
own home as if he didn’t even recognize it.
 
But he barely made it to the end of the street before other cars came
from around the corner and cornered him.
 
He knew when he was outnumbered.
 
He stopped.
 
He was about to reach
for his gun when the men in the front car jumped out in FBI jackets with their
guns drawn, and hurried up to his Porsche.

“Exit the
car, Mr. Gabrini!” the special agent in charge yelled.
 
“Now!”

Sal
immediately complied, getting out of his automobile with his hands raised.

“What’s
going on?” Sal asked.
 
“What’s this
about?”

But the
agents immediately put him in handcuffs and began frisking him, as the men in
the back car ran up to him too.

“What’s this
about, agent?” Sal asked again.

“You are
under arrest,” the agent in charge said, “for the kidnapping, rape, and murder
of Blanche Delilah.”

Sal was
stunned.
 
Blanche was dead?
 
Rudy had iced Blanche?
 
Victor said she took off.
 
What else was Victor lying about?
 
What
the fuck
?

“Let’s go,
Mr. Gabrini,” the agent said as they pulled Sal toward one of their
automobiles.
 
“The road ends right here
for you.
 
This is it.
 
It is my pleasure to say that this will be
the last time your slick gangster ass will ever breathe free air again!

Gemma was
fast asleep when Sal was arrest two hundred yards from their home.
 
She woke up an hour later, showered, brushed
and dressed, and made her way downstairs.
 
She wasn’t in the kitchen but a few minutes, preparing a cup of coffee,
when her cell phone began to ring.
 
She
looked at her Caller ID.
 
She was still
sleepy and could barely read the writing.
 
But it was Reno.

“Hey, Ree,
what’s up?” she asked as she yawned.

“Have you
heard from Sal?” Reno asked.

Gemma didn’t
like the nervous sound in his voice.
 
She
had just run a spoon under the water tap.
 
She held it still.
 
“No,” she
said.
 
“He already left for work.
 
Or, at least he was gone when I woke up.
 
Why?”

“I’m hearing
he’s been arrested.”

Gemma
frowned. “Arrested?”

“I’m hearing
the Feds have him, Gem.”

Gemma’s
heart dropped.
 
“On what charge?” she
asked.

“Nobody’s
telling.
 
I went to the FBI office, but they
claim they didn’t know shit.
 
Then one of
my men call and tell me he’s being booked at County.
 
I’m on my way there now.”

“I’ll meet
you there,” Gemma said, and ended the call.
 
She hastily grabbed her briefcase and keys, unplugged the coffeemaker,
and hurried out of the door.

 
Three hours later and they still would not
allow anyone, not even Gemma, to see Sal.
 
She told them she was there as his attorney, not his wife, but that
didn’t matter to them.
 
They claimed he
was still being processed in, and she would have to wait, but she knew that was
their bullshit reason to question him without an attorney present.
 
Not that she worried about Sal telling too
much.
 
She knew her husband.
  
Sal was nobody’s fool.
 
He would stand mute no matter what they threatened
to do to him.

But in those
three hours, everybody had arrived at the police station.
 
Reno and Gemma had arrived first.
 
Then Trina and Jimmy showed up.
 
Then Tommy flew in from Seattle and was there
too.
 
Then a group of criminal defense
attorneys, a dream team of powerhouse attorneys that Reno and Tommy had on
their payrolls, showed up too.
 
But even
they couldn’t get in to see Sal either.

Then
finally, after several more minutes, the agent in charge came out of the
backroom.
 
The powerhouse attorneys were
ready to go and see their client, but he stopped them.
 
“Mr. Gabrini wants to see his wife and his
other family members.
 
No lawyers,” he
said.

That was
fine by the family members.
 
They just
needed to eyeball Sal and find out what was going on.
 
They left the lawyers in the waiting room and
made their way into a large interrogation room where Sal was being held.

“Assume
we’re being recorded,” Gemma alerted them all as they walked in.

Sal was
seated at a long, metal table with his hands clasped on top of the table and
his jeans and sweatshirt appearing wrinkled and worn.
 
Gemma expected him to be concerned, but when
she saw just how concerned he appeared, her heart dropped.
 
She sat beside him.
 
Reno, Trina, Tommy and Jimmy, sat in front of
him.

Gemma didn’t
ask if he was okay.
 
Of course he
wasn’t.
 
She just gave him a hug.

But Sal
looked at her and wanted to know if she was okay.
 
When she told him that she was, he nodded and
looked at Reno and Tommy.
 
Although Gemma
was an attorney herself, she always deferred to Reno and Tommy.
 
They knew the inner workings of law
enforcement better than she did.
 
They
knew exactly what needed to be asked.

“What’s the
charge?” Reno asked Sal.

“They claim
I kidnapped, raped, and murdered Blanche Delilah.”

Gemma was
stunned.

“Blanche
Delilah?” Reno asked.
 
“That woman with
that bullshit story about having your baby?”

Sal nodded,
although it wasn’t so bullshit.
 
But that
was for another place.
 
“Yeah.
 
Her.”

“Give me a
break!” Reno said.

“What
evidence do they have?” Tommy asked.

“I don’t
know.”
 
Then Sal furrowed his brow.

“What
difference does it make,” Reno said.
 
He
knew the jeopardy Sal was in.
 
He also
knew they were being watched and recorded.
 
“You didn’t do anything to that woman.
 
Who cares what they claim happened to her.
 
That’s their problem.”

“We have the
attorneys outside,” Tommy said.
 
“They’ll
going to work hard to get you out on bail.”

“No way,”
Sal said, shaking his head.
 
“Gemma’s my
lawyer.”

Even Gemma
was surprised to hear that.
 
Tommy and
Reno and even Trina were floored.
 
“What
are you talking about?” Reno asked.
 
“You
need the best of the best, Sal.
 
You need
junkyard dogs who’ll mix it up with the best of them.”

“Gemma’s my
lawyer,” Sal repeated.

“But
Gemma’s. . .”

“But Gemma’s
what, Reno?” Sal asked.

“Gemma’s a
good attorney,” Tommy said.
 
“But. . .”

“But
what?
 
Spit it out, Tommy?”

“But she’s
not the best of the best,” Tommy said.
 
“Even Gem would admit that.”

They all
looked at Gemma.
 
They loved her, but Sal
was being accused of a capital offense.
 
They didn’t need good.
 
They
needed the absolute best.

“I’m not the
best,” Gemma admitted.
 
“Not if you’re
looking at wins and losses.
 
But I love
Sal the most.
 
Who should be his
attorney?
 
A man who can defend Sal
vigorously, and then go home to his family and live his life?
 
Or a woman whose life, whose family, is Sal?”

Everybody
nodded their heads.
 
She had a point they
couldn’t dispute.
 
Sal smiled, and
squeezed her hand.
 
That was his
reasoning exactly.
 
“As I said,” Sal
said, “Gemma’s my attorney.”
 
But then he
looked at Reno and Tommy and said a word Gemma knew, but didn’t understand why
Sal would suddenly be saying it.
 
“Gitmo,” he said to the men.

Although
Gemma didn’t understand what Sal meant using that term, Tommy and Reno
understood loud and clear.
 
It was the
term all three of them used when they needed the others to get information, but
was not in a setting where they could be specific.

GITMO:
 
Get In
Touch (with) My Organization
.
 
Which
meant they were to contact Angelo Romano, Sal’s main man.
 
Which meant there was more trouble than just
this arrest.

Reno
nodded.
 
“You know it,” he said.

Reno and
Tommy walked into the safe house after a long conversation with Sal’s men.
 
Angelo told them about Victor’s claim that
Rudy’s son was Sal’s son.
 
They were both
shocked, but they knew that kind of problem was for Sal and Gemma to
handle.
 
Their task was singular.
 
Victor was the target.
 
When they saw him sitting downstairs, in the
middle of the basement, with a swollen face and a battered body, they knew
their task was practically done.

“Damn,” Reno
said as he and Tommy surrounded him.
 
“Sal beat the shit out of you.”

“Where’s
Blanche, Victor?” Tommy asked him.
 
“That’s your name, right?
 
Victor?
 
Where’s Blanche?”

Victor could
barely speak.
 
His mouth should have been
wired shut.
 
He was in bad shape.
  
But Reno and Tommy didn’t give a fuck.

“Where’s
Blanche?” Tommy asked him again.

It took all
the strength Victor had.
 
“I don’t know,”
he managed to say, and Reno managed to wrap his arm around Victor’s neck.
 
Then he leaned his head back and pointed a
gun to his brain.
 
“Come again,
motherfucker,” Reno said.

Victor began
to move around in an attempt to break free of Reno.
 
But he stared at that gun.
 
He was on Sal’s turf.
  
He knew it was no use.
 
“Dead,” he admitted.

“Tell us
something we don’t know,” Reno said.
  
“Who iced her, Victor?”

He hesitated
again.
 
“I did,” he said.

Tommy and
Reno looked at each other.

“Rudy said I
had to.
 
She told her story to Sal’s old
lady.
 
That’s all he needed her for.
 
He was gonna kill me if I didn’t take her
out.”

“I thought
she was your woman, Victor,” Reno said.
 
“That’s how you treat your woman?”

Victor could
only shake his head.
 
Nothing about his
life was right, including what he was forced to do to Blanche.

“Here’s what
else you’re going to do,” Reno said to him.
 
“You’re going to turn yourself in, admit to killing Blanche because she
cheated on you, and take your punishment.
 
Keep Rudy Red out of it.
 
Your ass
better keep Sal out of it.
 
It was all on
you.
 
And what do you get in return?”

Victor
looked at Reno as if he was about to tell him what the surprise in the bottom
of the Crackerjack box was.

“You get to
live,” Reno said.
 
“Your ass is going to
jail for life, but you get to live.”

Early that
next morning, Gemma’s monumental task was to get Sal out on bail.
 
But the State of Nevada pulled out all the
stops.
 
It was obvious from the beginning
that their unwavering desire was to make certain Salvatore Luciano Gabrini was
never released.

Gemma sat at
the Defense table beside her husband with a wariness she couldn’t
suppress.
 
The District Attorney himself
was handling the bail hearing, and he was masterful.
 
Tommy, Reno, and Jimmy were among those in
the court’s gallery, and even they were impressed.
 
They had the big fish now.
 
They had Sal Gabrini.
 
And they wasn’t about to let him go.

“He is a man
of means,” the D.A. said in his argument to the judge, “which automatically
makes him a flight risk.
 
He’s a menace
to society, your honor.
 
Any man who
would kidnap, rape, and murder an innocent woman, as we are alleging Mr.
Gabrini has done, in the most vile and inhumane way.
 
He has a trail of murder and wreckage as big
as this city, and a man like him should never again see the light of
freedom.
 
We contend, in fact, that
Salvatore Luciano is a mob boss and the undisputed head of the Gabrini
organized crime family syndicate.
 
Granting bail to a man such as this would be tantamount to granting bail
to a serial killer.”

Tommy and
Reno looked at Gemma.
 
Why wasn’t she
objecting to such outlandish accusations?
 
They weren’t some organized crime family!
 
Why wasn’t she standing and voicing her
outrage?
 
Sal was concerned too.
 
He wanted to beat the shit out of that
arrogant D.A.
 
But he trusted Gemma.
 
He remained still and waited.

And Gemma
simply listened.
 
She listened to every
argument the District Attorney had to make.
 
And then the attorney sat down.
 
And Gemma stood up.

“Your Honor,”
she addressed the court, “Salvatore Luciano Gabrini has been charged with the
murder of a Blanche Delilah.
 
The
District Attorney is asking that no bail be set.
 
They are so stubborn in their request that
they won’t even suggest an amount should the judge rule against their
request.
 
But yet, when asked why no bail
should be granted, the only real evidence they provide is that Mr. Gabrini is a
man of means.
 
Everything else were pure
conjecture, innuendo, and, if I may be so bold, lies, your Honor.
 
They are lying on Mr. Gabrini.
  
They call him a mob boss.
 
Indeed, they say he is the, and I quote,
‘undisputed head of the Gabrini crime family syndicate.’
 
There is no Gabrini crime family syndicate,
your Honor.
 
So to refuse to grant bail
based on a fact that is not in evidence will be wrong and unconstitutional on
its face.”