The Scorpion's Tale (3 page)

2011

By normal standards, the Olivaro’s beach
house was unimpressive. However, normal standards were inapplicable
in the Hamptons, especially on Dune Road overlooking the sandy
beaches on the Atlantic Ocean, where international celebrities and
billionaires abounded. Built on stilts, the house’s foundation
created a natural carport covering one of two staircases; the
second opened directly from the rear of the house to the beach. A
small hallway on the far side of the house led from the dining room
past two small bedrooms. Amanda Capresi and her daughter, Catarina,
were staying in one of these bedrooms. Amanda, who was nine months
pregnant, had her hands full with her two-year-old toddler. Around
the corner, at the rear of the house was the master bedroom of Tony
and Rosina Olivaro, their hosts for the weekend.

Labor Day weekend had finally arrived and
Steven and Amanda were thrilled with their invitation to join their
friends at the beach. The Friday sun was setting as Amanda nursed
an iced tea and Rosina sipped a glass of expensive Merlot in the
living room. Catarina played nearby with a set of plastic horses
spread out along the living room’s polished marble floor. Amanda
was glad to get off her feet for a while. The additional
thirty-five pounds on her 5’4” frame was adding to the burden of
her swollen feet and calves.

Tony paced fitfully, barely acknowledging
Amanda while yelling into an unanswered phone. Tony was a
self-proclaimed entrepreneur who excelled at taking shortcuts to
easy money. Steven liked Tony’s boldness and humor. Tony made it
his business to meet the “right” people in New York. A night out
with Tony was always first class, with his access to any club,
show, or concert in Manhattan. Earlier that year, Tony had stumbled
onto an import-export venture that made him an overnight fortune.
Tony said he generated astronomical profits selling general
household items, computers, and medical supplies unavailable in
third world countries. He quickly acquired a Westhampton vacation
home on the beach and a mansion in the elite community of Upper
Brookville.

The women giggled as they watched him fret.
Amanda was now calm and relaxed after her initial anger towards
Steven for not joining them on the drive out because of a
last-minute client meeting. But the drive to the Hamptons allowed
her to reflect upon how much Steven did for his family.

“Lighten up, Tony, and have some wine,”
Rosina said, trying to keep a straight face.

Tony gazed at the ocean. Storm clouds hovered
on the horizon. “One of our shipments didn’t make it to Rio and I
can’t track it down. Sal and Joey aren’t answering.”

Rosina grimaced at the mention of her
husband’s partners. “Am I supposed to be surprised those
good-for-nothing losers are unavailable to you on a Friday night?”
Rosina made a face at Amanda. She hated Tony’s partners, who were
small time hoods. “Honey, that’s why you have insurance. Don’t go
crazy over some shit computers. We have company.”

Tony erupted. “Those shit computers pay the
bills for this shit house, your shit Mercedes, and the shit wine
you’re guzzling!”

Rosina’s silence gave Tony an opportunity to
reflect, and he calmed down.

“I’m sorry. I owe you an apology too,
Amanda,” Tony said, looking uncomfortable and fumbling with the
loose change in his pocket. “I was looking forward to sparring with
Steven before dinner to relieve my tension,” he stammered. “I can’t
believe your asshole husband stayed at work tonight!”

“Speaking of dinner,” Rosina interjected,
forgetting the blowup as if it never happened, “I’m starved. Let’s
go eat. Tony, Amanda is having problems with her transmission.
Could you call Billy and maybe he could look at it in the morning?
If he’s at the garage, we could drop the van off on the way to the
restaurant.”

“I’ll call him now. Amanda, you shouldn’t be
driving that piece of shit. I think I’ll buy you a new one.”

Amanda blushed at the disparity of their
wealth. She knew Tony wasn’t kidding.

Moments later, Tony opened the door to the
house and shouted down to the women at the bottom of the staircase.
“Billy said drop off the car. I’ll drive the shit bucket and you
girls follow me in the Beemer!”

-----------------

Steven sat brooding in his office. He hated
putting anything before his family, but his business was slowly
taking over his entire life. His new client, Enrico Salvatorre,
would bring a huge increase to Steven’s business and his family
needed the money. Steven couldn’t refuse a meeting on Salvatorre’s
terms, which in this case meant giving him an early Friday evening
tour of his warehouse. Steven decided to play the game like the
Enrico Salvatore’s of the world. He dialed a number.

“Hi, it’s Steven. I’ve got a huge favor to
ask. Can you come by the office around seven o’clock to meet a
prospective client? I really need to land this guy. Just wear
something nice, okay? I only need you for an hour or two.”

-------------------

Tony kept excusing himself from the table at
the restaurant, trying unsuccessfully to locate his partners.
Amanda and Rosina barely spoke, and Catarina was whining for her
daddy, all of which made for an unpleasant dinner. Tony dropped the
three off at home and announced he was going into town.

Amanda put Catarina to bed and then sat with
her friend on the porch. Rosina opened another bottle of Merlot,
droning on about her petty woes while Amanda was miles away,
absentmindedly rubbing her belly and silently humming an Italian
lullaby. The cool, salty breeze brought her an inner peace.

Their idyllic stillness was ruined as Tony
stormed into the house in a drunken rage. The couple exchanged
harsh words and Tony stomped toward the rear of the house.

“Amanda, I’m sorry.”

Amanda embraced her. “You don’t need to
apologize. We both married Italian men.”

They laughed and hugged each other.

“You’re such a good friend,” Rosina said, a
tear rolling down her face. “I love you,” she whispered.

Amanda gently wiped away Rosina’s tear. “Go
to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning. When Steven gets here,
he’ll know exactly how to handle Tony!”

Amanda returned to her room, put on her
nightgown, and peeked at her sleeping daughter. She glanced at the
clock. It was a few minutes after ten. She called Steven.

“Capresi Imports,” Steven answered in a tired
voice.

“Hello. I’m looking for a man with strong
hands to give me private lessons on the many uses of fine Italian
oils.”

Steven chuckled. “I bet my finest would taste
even better on your body.”

They both laughed.

“How’s my favorite girl?”

Amanda sighed. “I’m tired. It was a long day.
The van was acting up, so I dropped it off at the shop.”

Steven felt a burning fluster of guilt. “How
are my little princesses?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Catarina is sleeping peacefully. You should
see her beautiful face. And Mia has been kicking me all day. She’s
going to be the first golden gloves girl in the family!”

“I’m coming first thing in the morning. It’s
time to pamper my best girl.” His true intent was to drive at
night, arrive in the dark, sleep on the beach, and give his family
an early morning surprise.

“Steven, that would be nice,” she answered
with hesitation in her voice stemming from past broken promises.
“I’m proud of you for working so hard for us, and I wanted you to
know how much we appreciate you.”

Steven smiled. “Wow! Where did that come
from?”

“My heart, silly. I should say it more
often.” There was an awkward silence. “I think Tony could use your
company. He’s really over the edge about a lost shipment of
computers. I’ve never seen him so crazy.”

Steven was already thinking about the new
client who caused him to remain in the city and the set of
challenges created by his demands. “Don’t worry. I’ll be there
bright and early, and I know how to handle Tony. I love you.”

“Make sure you eat something.”

“I will,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Believe
it or not, I
can
take care of myself, sometimes.” He looked
up just as Teresa walked in and sat down across from him. Teresa
was twenty years old and worked part-time. She was called in this
evening solely to give Steven a subliminal edge in contracting this
new client. She was gorgeous and dressed like a Maxim model, in a
very short and tight, low cut blouse. Salvatorre could barely stop
drooling over her, and he was only too happy to seal the deal
before he left. Steven understood powerful men like Mr. Salvatorre.
They needed to have their egos stroked and their libidos stimulated
at every possible moment. Since Mr. Salvatorre disrupted Steven’s
weekend plans, he wanted to ensure that his sacrifice was
rewarded.

Teresa smelled heavenly and leaned over
Steven’s desk to expose her best pair of assets. Steven closed his
eyes and tried to concentrate on his telephone conversation.

“I’m glad you guys made it out safely. Get
some rest. I love you, too.” Steven hung up the phone and looked at
Teresa, who was beckoning with her bedroom eyes.

“Little lady is out of town? You must be so
lonely.”

Steven broke eye contact.

“I’m finished with my work and I really
appreciate the overtime today. What time are you getting off,
babe?” Teresa asked.

Steven finally met her stare
.
She was
stunning. She had a gorgeous, tanned face with huge, piercing blue
eyes. Not the stunningly unique silver-blue eyes of his wife and
daughter, but magnificent nonetheless. “I don’t know. I still have
work to finish before I leave.”

Teresa cocked her head and pretended to be
disappointed. “Can’t you take it home with you? I skipped dinner to
be here. I don’t want to eat alone. After all, I did do you a huge
favor with that cocky, obnoxious old man.”

Steven glanced at his watch and mentally ran
the numbers. He had to eat. He could eat and then finish the
paperwork, but that would mean he couldn’t leave for the Hamptons
during the night. Teresa detected his indecision and seized the
opportunity to pounce.

“Steven,” she purred, “I’m buying. We’ll have
dinner and a few drinks. I won’t bite! Of course, if you change
your mind and want me to bite, I can do that.”

Steven shot her a stern look.

She looked hurt. “I’ll behave, I promise. You
have my word, okay? Just dinner.”

Steven collected his papers, put them neatly
into a folder, and stood to collect his personal belongings. After
all, Amanda wouldn’t want him to drive tonight, he thought. “Okay
Teresa. I’m starved and I could use some real food. No cannibalism,
just food. Got that?”

Teresa smirked. “Got it.”

-------------------

Amanda was awakened by an unusual noise on
the other side of the house. She glanced at the alarm clock on the
night table. The blue digital numbers indicated three-thirty. She
listened intently for a few seconds but heard only the distant
waves and the wind blowing. She stroked her daughter’s hair through
the mesh of the portable crib. Catarina was awake with wide eyes
staring up at her. Amanda turned on the nightlight, and Catarina
was rubbing her eyes.

“Hello Sweetie,” Amanda said as she peered
over the crib.

“Water, Mommy,” her daughter pleaded,
extending her arms toward Amanda. “Hold me, Mommy.”

Amanda pulled Catarina from the crib, sat her
on the bed and kissed her. “Stay here and wait for Mommy. I’ll be
right back.”

Catarina smiled at her mother as Amanda
headed for the kitchen. She could not have known that the sound
that woke her was Tony’s head slamming against the door of the
master bathroom. He had been shot in the temple with a
silencer-equipped Glock 234, placed a few centimeters from his
head; a matching shot left Rosina dead in their bed. Tony had
gotten up to use the bathroom prior to the killer’s entrance into
their bedroom. As he opened the door to return to bed, he was
executed.

Thanks to the killer’s handiwork, Tony’s
partners were also dead in Manhattan. The killer needed to finish
his business in Westhampton tonight, so he could make his flight to
Italy before any of the bodies were discovered. The fact that Tony
had unexpectedly awakened to use the bathroom was inconvenient, but
only caused a slight deviation from his original plan to kill both
in bed as they slept.

From his neck down, he was dressed like a
surgeon with cotton coverings over his clothes and shoes that were
specially made to fit although they were two sizes too large. He
also wore latex gloves and a ski-mask to ensure that his entire
body was protected against leaving even a cell of his DNA
behind.

Looking into the eyes of his victims in their
final moment of life did not faze him. In fact, it gave him
pleasure. The sound of Tony’s head smashing into the door disturbed
him only because the success or failure of an assignment might
hinge upon an unknown factor or variables that were his job to
minimize. He never left anything to chance, carefully tending to
the crime scene, making sure there was no evidence to assist law
enforcement. Satisfied all was in order, he silently exited the
master bedroom, gun in hand.

Amanda tried the light switch in the kitchen,
but it didn’t work. She opened the refrigerator door, found a
pitcher of water, and poured a tall glass for her and Catarina to
share. She replaced the pitcher, closed the refrigerator, took a
step into the hallway and immediately noticed a large shadow of a
person, obviously much taller than Tony. She shrieked in surprise
and dropped the glass, which shattered. The killer reacted without
conscious thought. He instinctively raised his gun and fired.
Amanda made a loud moaning sound as she crumpled to the floor.
Suddenly there was another scream behind him. He turned and aimed
at the sound, not realizing that his gun was pointed at a
forty-five degree angle toward the floor. He fired again and there
was silence. It took only a split second for him to realize that
the voice had screamed “Mommy.” He rushed over and looked down at
the small body lying on the floor. He knelt beside the little girl,
and placed his latex covered fingers on her throat, trying to feel
for a pulse. He knew that the caliber gun used prevented any hope
of life. She was dead. He quickly stood and walked over to the
other body. The first feature he could see in the moonlight was her
distended, pregnant belly. Again, he knelt and felt for a pulse.
There was none.