The Heart of an Assassin (4 page)

For a couple of hours the kids hung around
and discussed the important issues surrounding their lives, such as
the newest DC or Marvel comic books, or if Superman could beat the
Hulk. All were hot and wishing for the ice cream truck, and praying
that Uncle Ted would again foot the bill. As if a prayer was
answered, they heard the music coming down the block, and all of
their eyes turned toward Uncle Ted, who was already rising and
waving them toward the oncoming truck.

After getting their ice cream and thanking
Uncle Ted, the kids returned to their stoop, and waving, he
returned to his.

“I wonder where he’s from,” Charlie
asked.

“Don’t know,” replied Jimmy. “One day he just
appeared.”

“What you talking about?” asked Tyler. “He’s
always been there. He was here when my mom and I moved in.”

“Well, he wasn’t here before you came ’cause
I never seen him before that,” Jimmy interjected.

“Yeah, Tyler. You brought the ice cream man
with you,” said Rick. Once more they all busted out laughing.

After hanging around on the stoop for some
time, the calls began. “Charlie, come home this minute,” a voice
rang out from one of the windows. Next, it was Ricky’s turn as his
father walked past their stoop and nodded to his son that it was
time to go home. This was an automatic indication for Adam, who
lived in Rick’s building, that Rick was the rule and it was time to
go home.

Davie, Tyler, and Jimmy hung out until
Tyler’s mother stuck her head out of the third-floor window and
called him up. Jimmy and Davie turned up to look at Tyler’s mom.
“Hi, Ms. Sylvia,” both boys shouted up to her.

Tyler’s mom was nominated as the best-looking
mom on the block. Charlie, face reddening said, “In all New York.”
She waved to them and said goodnight, and they responded with big
smiles and waves.

Both Jimmy and Davie lived in the building
where they now sat and were upstairs in their home in a matter of
seconds.

July 7,
1964 (New York)

A few blocks away, a stretched silver limo
turned up the block toward 126th Street on its weekly pickup run.
In the back was Joe Coleto, a six foot, broad shouldered lieutenant
with the Costellino family who, over the last six years, had been
entrusted with the responsibility of bringing in the loot made from
drugs on the streets. Headed for his rendezvous with the Black
Aces, a local street gang, he smiled about how things have
developed over the last few years.

Initially, there was little income for the
family from this area of the city; however, after enlisting these
gang members, business picked up. Their monthly income went from
$3,000 to $25,000 in less than two years. The Black Aces, who first
numbered six, now numbered eighteen. Their territory covered five
square miles of upper Manhattan and was growing every day.

Jose Torres, the Black Aces leader, grew up
on the streets. By the age of seventeen, he quickly adapted and won
the respect of his peers when he slashed and stabbed Louis Sanchez,
the local nineteen-year-old gang leader who tried to take his bike
away.

When the ambulance arrived with the local
police, as was the norm in this neighborhood, Jose stepped up and
provided them with detailed information on how a gang from another
street came into the neighborhood and attacked Sanchez. His
demeanor and character convinced the police that he was telling the
truth. Jose, who could charm a young girl’s mother or serve at Mass
on Sunday, could change his persona as easily as he changed his
shoes. The world was his oyster. He could have it all.

The gang members were impressed and adopted
him into their ranks. Within three weeks, Jose became the leader of
the Black Aces. His first act as their leader was to eliminate his
predecessor.

Louis Sanchez became a victim of a
hit-and-run driver on the day he was released from the hospital.
The driver was never found, but it turned out that the vehicle was
traced back to a stolen unmarked police car out of the nearby
police station. Politics and embarrassment kept the news out of the
papers and was simply forgotten.

Jose Torres, also known as Blackie, kept as
low a profile as possible while his empire grew. His most trusted
members, or brothers as he referred to them, were Nelson Diaz
(Loco) and Kenny Roberts (Lefty), who were with him from the
beginning and would do anything to please him.

Loco got his name when a man named David
Cassidy, a neighborhood resident, tried to organize the community
in driving the gang out by taking pictures of their activities. A
couple of nights later, Mr. Cassidy was found hanging from a
lamppost. This, of course, infuriated the local police chief, Lt.
John O’Malley, who ordered an immediate investigation. It took them
almost two weeks to identify who Mr. Cassidy was, and by that time
the local residents were scared into looking the other way whenever
the Black Aces were around and doing their thing.

Though a task force was created, it was
dismantled within a month due to budget cuts and a lack of
neighborhood cooperation and support. After the incident, the
police began patrolling the neighborhood more frequently. But after
a short while, with other neighborhoods requiring more of their
time and no other incidents to speak of, the task force abandoned
their more frequent vigilance and went back to the normal routine
of an occasional run through the area.

Blackie, though slightly upset with Loco for
his part in eliminating the local resistance, was actually quite
pleased with the results. The message got across to all, via word
of mouth, that they weren’t going to take any crap from anyone.
Blackie was even more proud of him when Loco mentioned how this
particular troublemaker had no family, and no one to make a fuss
over him. This showed Blackie that Loco could be trusted to make
the right decisions, as extreme as they may be, under the right
conditions.

Lefty, who was highly respected by both Loco
and Blackie for his cunningness, always carried a knife. It was his
idea of how to get rid of Louis Sanchez. Blackie thought the idea
of using a stolen car out of the local police precinct was a stroke
of genius. After eliminating Sanchez, dumping the car, and getting
back to their neighborhood, they laughed about how it would take
the police months to find out that the car used was out of their
own pool of unmarked cars.

A couple of years earlier, Joe Coleto
approached Blackie with a proposition for making more money. He
felt they could bring in more than what they were making by running
numbers and extracting protection money from the local vendors. Joe
provided them with direction on how to go about making the most out
of their venture; throw parties, visit the local schools and parks,
and give the stuff away. “Please them and they shall come,” was
Joe’s motto. He was right; they returned by the droves.

Within several months, Blackie brought the
entire process under control. With help and direction from Joe
Coleto, he organized them into four different groups, consisting of
approximately four members, each with its own leader.

One group, led by Loco, was responsible for
looking for new prospects and enlarging their business. The second
group was led by Lefty and was responsible for maintaining control
in the various locations they operated. The third group, led by
Eiffel Bonnila, nicknamed Skinny, picked up and dropped off the
drugs and money. The last group, led by Blackie himself, was made
up of the administrators, or overseers. They were headquartered in
what appeared to be an abandoned building owned by the Costellino
family, on 118th Street and St. Nicholas. The building was entered
through a neighboring alley and only from the back. It consisted of
six floors with four apartments on each one. Of these, only fifteen
were in good condition and were all located in the back, hiding any
activity that might be seen from the streets at night.

July
7, 1964

Nick Costello took the A train down to Spring
Street in Little Italy. Walking east, he turned south on Mulberry
Street. After walking for approximately three blocks, he was in the
vicinity of a couple of restaurants frequented by his mark. Looking
around, he noticed the six-story buildings on both sides of the
street.

Next, he surveyed a couple of the buildings
to better determine if he had free access to enter them. To Nick’s
surprise, he did not. In both cases, he would need to ring one of
the tenants to be admitted; this was not acceptable. Then walking
down the block, he noticed most of the buildings had alleyways that
ran between them. Looking around, he ventured down an alleyway
unnoticed.

Behind the buildings Nick found that most of
them had backdoors. Some were locked and some were open. Entering
one of them, he found out he had free access to the roof, which
automatically gave him access to any one of the buildings.
Additionally, it gave him a clear view of most of the restaurants
on Mulberry Street, while at the same time provided several escape
routes. Satisfied in having found a perch from which his
observation of the streets was wide open, he left the area. He
would return, and with a little bit of luck, his mark would be
clearly in his sights. Normally, Nick would not rush things, but
the attempts on the Giordano family hastened his resolve to
complete the mission. Can’t get paid if the payee is dead.

As he ventured from building to building
making mental notes of alternative positions and efficient exits,
he noticed the little pockets of crowds gathering on the street. He
backed away from the edge of the building, thinking that maybe
someone spotted him. He cautiously glanced over the edge again and
noticed the crowds were growing. but were consumed by something
else. What was stirring the masses, he wondered.

Returning to the streets as discreetly as
possible, Nick ventured close to some people having an open
conversation. Listening intently he heard a woman say, “Don Fazio
era stato assassinato;” Don Fazio had been assassinated.

Nick didn’t need to hear any more, and within
seconds was on his way back to the train station. Once there, he
made a quick call to Jay and asked him how it was going. “Will be
ready tonight,” Jay was happy to report.

“Good. I will be there first thing in the
morning,” came Nick’s response.

July
7, 1964

Sylvia Santiago, Tyler’s mom, was about five
foot seven, with a slim build, beautiful green eyes, and dark hair
she always wore combed up. At thirty, she made the heads turn as
she walked down the street. Except for one time when she had to
borrow money, she never complained about anything and was quite
content with her life, having taught Tyler to also be appreciative
of what they had.

Tyler always wondered about his dad, but his
mom never talked about him, and he never pressed the matter. All he
knew was that they were married for a couple of years before he
came along and that his dad left before his first birthday.

As they were sitting to eat, they heard some
commotion out in the hallway, causing Tyler to move quickly to the
door only to be stopped by his mom. She pulled him back, walked
forward and looked through the peephole. She saw that the new
neighbor was carrying a couple of suitcases into his apartment.
Sylvia opened the door and asked if everything was all right. The
neighbor looked up, smiled, and replied, “Yes, thank you.”

“We are about to sit down for dinner. Would
you like to join us?”

He looked back with a surprised look on his
face. Looking down at Tyler he responded, “Well, that depends on
what you are having and if am going to get chewed out for
interference. Do you normally invite strangers into your home?”

“No, not normally, but I would feel guilty
knowing that you probably haven’t eaten, moving in and all, while I
am sitting here with too much for us to finish,” she answered.

“Okay, give me a sec to clean up,” he
responded as he went into his apartment.

Tyler could not believe his mom. “Mom, what
are you doing? Are you crazy? You don’t even know him!”

“You just mind your manners, young man,” she
said to him. “He seems harmless enough.”

A few minutes later, the stranger was at
their door. After some introductions they all sat down to eat. Nick
told them his name was Tim Goldman, and that he was here on a
six-to-eight-week tour as an advisor for a corporation that was
having some financial problems.

Sylvia asked about his earlier comment
regarding interference, and Tyler filled her in on his would-be
famous catch. Nick again apologized, but added that Tyler would
have dropped the ball anyway and that he had saved Tyler from the
embarrassment. Tyler looked hard at Nick and then began to laugh.
They all laughed when Nick added that it was the first ball he had
ever caught and that normally he would be the one to drop the
ball.

After a short time and more pleasantries, the
evening was drawing to a close. Nick volunteered to do the dishes,
but was shunned by Sylvia. “Please keep Tyler busy a while longer
while I do the dishes,” she asked. Nick smiled at her and obeyed as
he continued to visit with Tyler.

They talked about the Beatles, whom Nick
didn’t care for, and more baseball. Tyler decided he liked this
man, and realized that he had never seen his mom laugh as much as
she had today.

Around 9:00 p.m. Tyler went to bed, while his
mom and Nick remained at the dining table having some coffee and
just chatting. Tyler was happy to see his mom enjoying Nick’s
visit. Yep, Tyler decided, he liked this man.

The next morning, Tyler was up bright and
early. It was 8:30 Sunday morning, July 8, when Tyler finished his
morning chores of making his bed and taking out the garbage. His
mom was still in bed when he left for his favorite stoop to wait
for the rest of the gang. Charlie, as usual, was the first to
arrive. Tyler told him about the stranger and that they had dinner
together.