The Body Mafia (14 page)

“Somebody better start talking!”
Sal screamed from behind his desk.

Present in the room were Henry Mastragna, Petey and Antonio Iaccona, William Petrosini, and three other men that neither I nor Joseph recognized. None of the men spoke, but only hung their heads as if they were small children being admonished.

“Somebody better start telling me how the
fuck
the cops got the body! How the
fuck
did they find it, and
who
the
fuck
tipped them off?”
Sal stood up and knocked everything off his desk.
“I better hear some talking, God damn it!”

“Pop, listen…Settle down! We don’t know how they could’ve possibly found him. Someone must’ve followed us or something. Maybe it was the Filacis,”
Antonio Iaccona said.

Joseph’s jaw clenched as he heard this. Putting my hand on his arm, I gave it a slight squeeze while we continued to watch.

“Filacis my ass! It was that goddamn Gallagher! I swear to Christ, when I get my hands on that Irish Mick bitch I’m gonna rip her fucking throat out!”

Now it was my turn to have a clenched jaw. Having my throat ripped out by the man on the computer screen was not something I looked forward to.

“We should’ve taken care of her the same time Hagerman was! And Niccolo! Should’ve taken care of all the motherfuckers at the same time! I’m surprised Frank didn’t fuck up Niccolo’s murder, too! Fucker left the goddamn ball bat behind when I told him not to. It was Frank! Goddamn Frank! I wish he was alive so I could blow his goddamn brains out again!”

The admission I’d been waiting for. They had killed my husband and Niccolo Filaci. Salvatore Iaccona was going to pay with his life. But by the look on Joseph’s face, I saw that he might beat me to it. Sal continued blasting his employees.

“The cops get ahold of you yet, Henry?”
Sal fumed.

“No, Sal, I haven’t been home since the news broke.”

“You are going to the Philippines, and plan on staying there until the heat’s off. There’s another delivery waiting at the ware house on Washington Street. My inside guy is waiting for you. He’ll take you to the airport and check in the delivery. You know where to go once you get there?”

“Sure, Sal, I went with Frank a coupla times.”

“Good, get your ass moving. The Filipinos are threatening to pull the project because we’re behind, and Mansfield is gonna be on my chopping block soon if they don’t get their shit together. The fuckin’ Chinks are also threatening to make some heads roll, and it ain’t gonna be mine!
Our other investors aren’t happy either! You got that? What the fuck—?”

Sal looked directly at the camera and began walking closer, his image on the computer screen growing larger.

“Oh shit, CeeCee, he fuckin’ found—”

“Just wait. Maybe not!” I interrupted, and prayed.

He stopped right in front of the hole. We still had audio.

“What the fuck is this shit, Petey? We got fuckin’ rats or something? Get a fuckin’ exterminator in here tomorrow. It looks like something was crawling all inside that wall. I fucking hate rats.”

I knew the feeling, but breathed a sigh of relief that he hadn’t located the camera yet.

“Petey, you and Antonio find that bitch tonight! If not, go get her fuckin’ kids and do them. That’ll bring her out. I’m tired of fuckin’ around.”

“Oh, hell no, he did not just threaten my children.” I stood up with every intention of driving directly to the warehouse and blowing a hole through the middle of Salvatore Iaccona.

“Hold on, CeeCee, just wait. I think we should go to the warehouse on Washington Street. We’ll be able to find out what his business is. Did you hear him mention Mansfield?”

“I heard him, and I think it’s coming together for me right now. Let’s go to the warehouse, so I know for sure.”

Alan Keane and the other agents watched the same scene unfold that CeeCee and Joseph had. The FBI had found the office three weeks ago and had their own cameras in place—illegally. Another man watched, too, but stayed silent.

“
We’ve got him,” Alan announced.

“It’s no good, Alan, you know that,” Gary Nicholas said. “We can’t use these tapes.”

“We can’t use ours, but we sure as hell can use hers! I have a feeling those tapes are gonna make their way to us soon, a week at the max.”

The other man stood up and finally spoke. “We don’t have a fucking week. Didn’t you listen? Get your asses to that warehouse on Washington Street!”

We arrived at the warehouse just in time. We’d had a slight delay when I had to put a copy of the video of the Iaccona meeting into a mailbox. I was mailing it to my friend in Atlanta, while keeping a copy with me. During the fifteen minutes that we waited, something strange happened. At least it seemed strange to me.

Clearly getting antsy while we sat and waited, Joseph reached over and turned the radio on. I had been thinking about Michael and wasn’t paying attention until Joseph started to sing the song that was currently playing.

My hair stood up on end, and it wasn’t from Joseph’s earth-shattering singing voice, either. He was singing a Pink Floyd song, and one of Michael’s favorites.

“Isn’t that funny? We were just at their exhibit less than three days ago, and I haven’t heard one of their songs in ages. CeeCee? What’s wrong? Oh, come on. My voice can’t be that bad…”

Quickly reaching over and turning the radio off, I tried to cover the look of despair on my face, but it was too late. Joseph had seen it.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” His voice dripped with concern.

“Nothing. That was Michael’s favorite song is all.” I was rattled.

“
That’s
why we met at the exhibit.” He paused. “Oh, CeeCee, I’m sorry. I didn’t know…”

Holding my hand up, I attempted to lighten the mood a little while getting my thoughts back together.

“Don’t apologize. But, Joseph, could you do me a favor?”

“Of course.”

“If you’re smart, you’ll stay a mobster and forgo the singing career.” I smiled.

I looked at the warehouse and saw that a large white van with the name LifeTech Industries on the side of it had arrived. It was backed up to one of the doors on the south side of the building.

“Heads up, they’re here,” I announced.

This wasn’t a loading dock, and it was close to three in the morning—definitely not a normal delivery time. Taking my night-vision goggles and binoculars out, I gasped aloud when I saw Dr. Donovan Esposito standing alongside the van. Another man, who looked somewhat familiar, had his back to me. I desperately wanted to see his face. As they loaded a small cooler into the back of the van, I chastised myself for not putting everything together sooner.

“Holy, shit! Body organs. How could I have been so stupid?” I asked.

“Care to fill me in?”

“They’re running body organs, a multimillion-dollar business. That’s why Michael was looking at
my files. They were taking the organs in Mansfield from the homeless. Esposito was removing them, and someone else was transporting them here to get shipped to the Philippines, all run by the Iacconas.” I took a deep breath to let it all sink in. “They killed Niccolo because he knew and was going to tell Michael. They killed Michael because they thought he already had evidence against them.”

“Jesus…” Joseph mumbled. “Those motherfuckers. ” He sat up straight. “Heads up again, they’re leaving.”

The van began to pull away but got stuck in the soft ground. Since they were trying to pick up the organs covertly, they hadn’t used a regular loading dock. Instead, they tried to drive on the soft snow-covered ground. We watched as they spun the tires, spewing mud everywhere, until the driver got out of the truck. I still couldn’t see his face. He placed something under the tire as Esposito drove it out of the rut, throwing mud all over the man. While we watched them drive away, Joseph startled me.

“Listen to me carefully. There’s a club in the Warehouse District in Cleveland. It’s called Club Siesta, at the corner of West Sixth Street and Saint Clair. In the back, there are several VIP rooms. Meet me in the one next to the restroom tonight at eight sharp.” He opened his door to get out. “Make sure you’re not being followed.”

“Wait a minute! Joseph, what are you doing? Get in the car!” I was panicked.

“Trust me, CeeCee. Don’t worry, I’ll get back. Just be there! Now go!”

As I drove away from the warehouse, Joseph ran toward it. I couldn’t imagine what he was doing.

When I was almost a mile away, I heard an explosion in the distance. I saw the large ball of fire rise into the air in my rearview mirror.

Not knowing if it was safe to go back to my motel room, I took my chances and left the car running as I ran inside and grabbed my things. All I could think about was Joseph and if he was okay. The large explosion would’ve destroyed the entire warehouse. I just hoped he’d made it out in time. The Iacconas and their business practices had been revealed tonight, and it made me angry. Everything that had happened to the unfortunate victims in Mansfield, to Joseph’s brother, to my children, Sean, and to me was all due to nothing but the insatiable greed of Salvatore Iaccona.

Crazy mad, I pulled out of the motel parking lot while my eyes fell to a file on my passenger seat. The file contained the home address of Singin’ Sal.

He was running toward the fiery remnants of the warehouse on Washington Street when Agent Gary Nicholas ran up on him from the right.

“Wait! What are you doing? You can’t go in there!”

“Get the fuck back, I’m going in.” He started walking now. “You fucked up and waited too long! I told you to get here quickly, and now…” He didn’t want to think about the possibilities.

“
They’re not here!
”

He spun around, facing Agent Nicholas, making sure he heard him right. Agent Nicholas was breathing hard, the cold air making his breath look like large puffs of smoke.

“How do you know that?”

“We found their motel rooms. Keith and Steve are there now. We just missed her by a few minutes when she checked out. Filaci’s things are still in his room, so we don’t know where he’s at, but he’ll probably meet up with her later.”

“Keep on that goddamn room and see if he comes back. If he does, don’t lose him! He’ll take us right to her, I’m sure of it.” He paused. “Something must’ve gone wrong, so they had to split up.”

Not an overly religious man, he found himself praying like he’d never prayed in his life.

Salvatore Iaccona lived in a modest neighborhood on the west side of the city. I turned my headlights off and circled the street several times before parking a few houses down from his. Sal’s house was dark, but that was fine. I would wait.

Carrying only my gun, I miraculously found an unlocked back door. Beyond caring if any evidence was left or if I was seen, I strode into the darkness of the kitchen and took a few minutes to allow my eyes to adjust. It was a ranch-style home. I walked down the sole hallway, opening doors in an attempt to find Sal’s bedroom. It was the last room at the end. I unscrewed all of the lightbulbs in the room, opened a window, removed the screen, and took a seat in a comfy chair by the bed. Then I waited.

It was over two hours, and almost daylight, when
I heard the garage door open. Stiffening in my chair, I prepared myself for a confrontation like no other.

Sal came right to his bedroom. As the door opened, light from the hallway flooded in, but not on me. Sal was feeling for the light switch along the wall while I held my breath. Finding the switch, he began flipping it up and down, cursing as the room remained dark. Now it was my turn.

“Have a seat,” I said calmly from the darkness of the room.

“What the fuck? Who is that?” He began to reach inside his coat pocket.

Racking the slide on my gun loud enough for him to hear it, I gave my second order.

“If you don’t want a hole in your head, take your gun out slowly and slide it across the floor toward the sound of my voice. Then have a seat in the chair by the dresser.”

Sal did as he was told and slid his gun toward me, where it stopped at my feet. I didn’t move. After he had taken his seat, I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it, providing enough light for him to see my gun…and my face.

“Mrs. Gallagher, I presume.” He gritted his teeth.

“It’s Hagerman, Mrs. Hagerman, the wife of the man you killed,” I said while blowing out a substantial amount of smoke at him.

He began to laugh, which infuriated me to the point my finger found the trigger of my gun. But I wanted some answers first, and I wanted him to know what I’d done.

“Tommy certainly didn’t laugh like that when I
stuck a letter opener in his neck and dumped him in the bay. I wonder if you’ll still be laughing when I do the same to you.”

He stopped laughing and leaned forward. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, lady, but I really hope you enjoy that cigarette. It’ll be your last.”

“You didn’t plan on me finding Frank, did you, Sal? Nor did you plan on your warehouse going up in flames. It’s a shame really. As pissed off as you were in your office yesterday, I thought for sure you’d take out Henry, too. Especially since I told the cops he was the one that killed Frankie boy.” I let my cigarette drop on the floor and stamped it out with my foot. “Unfortunately, for you that is, your business is over. No more organs for the Philippines, no more homeless murders, and no more Iacconas. You see, Sal, the feds will have everything by tomorrow. You’re finished. Not that you’re going to be around to see it all, because I’m going to kill you, here, shortly.”

He smiled again. “Did you enjoy watching your husband burn, Mrs. Hagerman? I know I did—”

We were interrupted by the sounds of footsteps walking down the hallway. I hadn’t expected or planned for anyone else.

“Petey! In here, my room! Hurry!” Sal screamed before diving behind his bed fast enough that I couldn’t get a shot at him.

The footsteps quickened, and I was at the window as the large figure loomed in the doorway. With no time to aim, I fired a shot toward the figure, who ducked behind the door frame. Wood fragments and
splinters sprayed the room from where the bullet hit. Before anyone could react, I was diving through the window, falling onto the snow-covered ground.

“Pop! You okay?” Petey Iaccona yelled, making his way to his father.

“I’m okay, I’m okay!” Sal sat up and brushed the wood fragments from his coat.

“I’m going after her.” Petey started toward the door.

“No! Wait!”

“Wait? Why? Who was that?” Petey found the light-bulb next to the nearest lamp and screwed it in before turning it on.

“It was her.” Sal was out of breath and sat on his bed. “It was Gallagher. She knows everything. We’re in trouble, Petey.”

Petey went to the bedroom window and closed it, then took a seat next to his father.

“We’re not in trouble, Pop. We found her room and we know where she’s going.”

Sal looked confused. “How?”

“She’s hooked up with Joseph Filaci, and they were staying at a motel about five miles from here. She’s checked out, but he hasn’t.”

“Filaci? That motherfucker!” Sal stood up.

“We can’t get close enough because the feds are all over the motel, but I’m pretty sure she was at the warehouse and watched the pickup. They’re the ones that blew it up, too. Anyway, I suspect they’re gonna follow the van to Cleveland to get them at the drop-off.”

“She’s got a room there too, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, but the feds are on it. We can watch from a distance and see where she goes from there.”

“Take your brother and leave now. You’ll need to beat
her there. I want her brought to me—you got it? I’ll make the arrangements. She killed Tommy.”

“She did?”

“Yes, and she’s the one who got to Frank’s body. We’ll deal with the Filacis later, but for now, I want her. And remember, we’ve still got Paulie on the inside.”

Running like I’d never run before, I circled several houses before making my way back to the car. They weren’t following me and I didn’t know why. As I sat in my car with my hand on the ignition, I saw a car back out of Sal’s driveway like a bat out of hell. I flung myself down on the passenger seat as it passed by and waited a few minutes before pulling away. My hands were shaking terribly and it was hard to catch my breath. My chest seared in pain from the cold air I had breathed while running. Finally, turning onto the interstate, I pushed the gas pedal to the floor and sped toward Cleveland.

“He’s back in Cleveland, Alan. Keith and Steve followed him from his motel room in Youngstown.”

“That means she’ll be there soon, too. Keep the agents on her motel room there, and keep the other ones with Joseph. They’ll meet up soon. I’ll let him know the update.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Before you hang up, things have changed. When you get the opportunity, take her into custody.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I promised him. If we don’t, she’ll be dead by tomorrow.”

It was safe to assume my motel room in Cleveland was being watched. Regrettably, I had no other
choice but to go there. I didn’t think the Iacconas had found it yet, only the feds. At this point, I was almost grateful they were watching, but I would have to lose them later.

Back in the room, I took a hot shower. I had less than an hour to meet Joseph. I was trying to stay positive and assume he hadn’t been injured or killed in the explosion. After throwing all of my belongings in the trunk of my car and donning my black wig and trench coat, I headed toward the bar. Underneath the coat, I wore a gold sequined tank top and black slacks. I was going to a nightclub and didn’t want to stand out.

I parked in the three-level parking garage down the street from Club Siesta. I went up to the third level before taking the elevator back down. I then cut down several alleys, going away from the club, before I was satisfied that no one was following me. As I neared the entrance, I saw the doorman holding a weapons detector. Several of the patrons stood with their arms stretched out as he ran the wand up and down them. Of all places for Joseph to pick, he chose one I would be unable to take my gun into.

A blue postal-service mailbox was a few feet from me on the curb. I walked next to it, bent down, and pretended to fix something on my shoe while sliding my gun underneath the box. This was when I saw the men.

There were two of them across the street, and I recognized them immediately: Petey and Antonio Iaccona. They made no attempt to conceal themselves, but merely stood and stared. Cursing to myself, I stood up, ignoring their glares, and continued to the entrance, where I calmly allowed the doorman
to wave his wand around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the two crossing the street and heading directly toward me. Once inside, I threw money at the window and barely allowed the woman to stamp my hand before I hurried to the women’s restroom. The club was packed full of people dancing to the loud thumping music, lights flashing on and off. I saw the VIP rooms that Joseph had told me about. I ran into the restroom, pulled off my wig and coat, threw both into the garbage can, and fluffed out my hair.

Even though the two Iacconas knew what I looked like, they thought I had my wig on tonight. They’d be watching for a brunette in a dark coat amid the crowd of people. Keeping my head down, I exited the bathroom and went immediately to my right, pulling back the curtain to the VIP room. Joseph sat before me on one of the couches.

“Joseph! You’re okay!”

“Hurry up and close the curtain.”

After I closed the curtain, I couldn’t help but give him a big squeeze. He was nervous.

“How did you get back?”

“I have some contacts in Youngstown. One phone call and I had a ride. Are you okay?” He looked concerned.

“Yeah. Petey and Antonio are out there right now. They must’ve followed me, but I was careful! I took my wig off, but I don’t know how long that’ll keep them away.” I peered through the curtain and didn’t see them. “Joseph, what happened at the warehouse?”

“One flicker to the propane tank took care of it. As you can see, I got away in time. Were you worried?” He smiled.

“Of course I was worried!” I wasn’t smiling. “Joseph, I have to tell you something. After I left the warehouse, I was angry. Angrier than I have ever been, so”—I paused—“I went to Sal’s house and confronted him.”

His jaw dropped to the floor. “You what?”

“Actually, I had every intention of killing him right there, but Petey came home, and there were some shots fired. I got out through a window. I’m okay, but as you can imagine, he’s highly pissed.” I gave a fake smile.

“Holy Christ, CeeCee! He won’t stop until he kills you. God! What the hell were you thinking?”

Before I could answer, Joseph had peered through the curtain again.

“Fuck, they’re here.”

“What should we do?” I was beginning to panic.

“Just wait—I think they’re leaving.” He turned around. “We’ll wait here for about five minutes and then sneak out. I’m driving you directly to the FBI. They’ll be able to protect you.”

“What about you?” I didn’t want anything to happen to him.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry. You have access to those files and tapes you mailed?”

I nodded.

“Good, they’ll be able to help you.”

After waiting for ten minutes, instead of five, we made our way to the front of the club. Neither one of us saw the men anywhere inside, so we held our breaths as we walked out the front door.

“Stay here. I’m parked down the street. I’ll get my car and—”

Joseph was thrown backward the same time I heard the shot. He fell to the ground as the large red stain began to spread across the front of his shirt.

“Oh, Jesus!” I screamed, kneeling beside him, and put my hand against the hole in his chest.

“Run, CeeCee!” He was choking on his own blood. “Run!”

Sobbing, I fell to the ground as another shot rang out. People were running out of the club, screaming and trampling each other. I half crawled, half ran to the mailbox to retrieve my gun, leaving Joseph behind. As another shot hit the mailbox, I stood up and started shooting, backing into an alley that ran alongside the club. I couldn’t even see who I was shooting at; my eyes were blinded by tears and hundreds of people running around.

I had forgotten to bring extra magazines for my gun and was out of ammunition after my first round of shots. As I threw the gun into a nearby Dumpster, I saw Petey and Antonio at the end of the alley, running toward me.