Wiseguys In Love (29 page)

Lisa walked back into the bedroom, almost in a trance. He walked in after her and watched her finish dressing.

“I'm going to try and get his gun and shoot him in the leg when he tries to get out of the car to get your boss,” he began as evenly as he could. She nodded silently as she buttoned her shirt.

“When I do that, I want you to open the door and run as quickly as possible out onto West Broadway and try to hail a cab while you're waiting for me.”

“What if—”

“If I'm not out on the street after two minutes, you get the hell out of there, cab or no cab. Go back to your apartment, pack what you can, and get on the first train out of the city—”

“But—”

“You take a train and pay cash, then fly from another city—it'll take more time to trace. You do what I say.”

She stood still, staring at him.

“I don't want to leave without you, you've—”

“Look, this mess isn't your fault. You got stuck in the middle of something you shouldn't have.…” His voice dwindled away as she walked into his arms and held on to him tightly.

“Go back to Michigan, where you belong. Believe me, Lisa, if I can get away, I'll do it, if not, then maybe it's God's way of telling me that I belong in this kind of life. I don't know. I'm sorry for everything you've been through … I'm sorry for what I did.”

There was a knock at the door, and slowly she let go of him.

“Be right there,” Michael called out, looking at the door.

Lisa was standing at the small desk, writing something down on the hotel stationery, when he walked over to her.

“What are you doing? We have to go.”

She folded the paper and stuffed it into his jacket pocket.

“What is it?”

“It's my address and phone number in Michigan.” He opened his mouth, but she gently put her hand over his lips and gazed at him. “I'll wait as long as I can on the street. If something goes wrong and you don't get out within three minutes, I'll wait for you at the information booth in Grand Central two hours after we do this. If you don't show up, keep the address and join me later. You don't belong in this kind of life, Michael. Get out now while you have the chance. I'll be waiting.”

There was a banging knock on the door, and they gazed at each other for the last time. Lisa nodded and Michael opened the door.

Tony was standing there, annoyed.

“Jeez, what the hell took youse so long?” he demanded as they walked into the hallway.

“You know women,” was the only thing Michael could say as he pushed the button for the elevator.

EIGHT

Gina's black limousine pulled up in front of the church as Sophia came down the steps. She smiled and waved as Gina opened the door, then she got inside.

“Father D'Amico asked for you,” Sophia said as the car turned onto a side street.

“What did you tell him?”

“I told him you weren't feeling well,” she said, deciding that she'd have to confess that lie to him at the next confession. She stared at the street, a bit confused.

“Where we going, Gina?”

“My son's house … to deal with Rosa,” Gina said in her gravelly voice. Then she exhaled and sank back into the velvety upholstered seat. Sophia watched a big smile come across her face, followed by a contented sigh, and she, too, made herself comfortable in the car. She had called Gina first thing that morning about Rosa. They were finally going to get rid of her—Sophia knew it in her bones.

*   *   *

Michael's eyes kept surveying Tony's body as they drove downtown. He kept staring at the bulky thighs and arms. He could see the bulge from his holster. He finally forced his eyes forward as they traveled down Fifth Avenue. The streets were nearly empty. It was too hot even for the tourists to be out walking.

Tony was humming to himself, and thinking about Gus tearing up Joey D.'s Avis. He was surprised he hadn't heard from Angela already. Even Ralphie had been cool on the phone, not letting on he knew anything when Tony called in for his daily check and to run down the day's schedule. He shot a glance sideways at Mikey and wondered whether he knew his mother had been out to see Solly. Naw.

He continued humming, then stared at Michigan in the rearview mirror. Maybe he should try one last time with her. They stopped at a light, and Tony's eyes landed on a block with nothing but fur-coat shops. He glanced back to her.

Should he even try it? he thought. God knows what she'd tell him about fur coats. This one was a total mystery to him. Her flat blond hair and freckly face faded into Angela attacking him on the lawn.

“Tony?” Michael said, and he looked out and saw that the light was green.

He stepped on the gas.

“You like fur coats?” he asked.

“Who?” he heard Michael ask, and he glared at him.

“Jeez, how many times I gotta tell you? I'm not talkin' to you.” He turned back to Michigan. “You like fur coats?”

“You mean the ones where they kill all those poor little animals?”

No, this broad was a total mystery to him.

“Aw jeez, that's what they raise 'em for. You see, they treat 'em good
before
they chop 'em up.”

“Yes, but then all they do is kill them for their fur.”

“So?” Tony's eyes began crossing.

“Well, if we ate mink or sable, it would be different.”

“Why? The thing's dead. Dead is dead, nothin' else. They don't care if they get eaten—”

“Well, if they raised you just to rip your skin off, wouldn't you be upset?” Lisa said, taking the bull by the horns.

“If I'm dead, what's the difference?” he nearly yelped.

“It's the principle of the thing. I just couldn't wear one, that's all.”

“What do people give you for presents for God's sake?” Tony asked, his voice booming with frustration.

“Flowers?”

They all went silent. Tony kept shaking his head back and forth as they drove through the empty streets on the way down to SoHo. Flowers. Fuckin' flowers, no dead animal coats …

He looked over to her. Jeez, if he could get Angela to swallow a line like that …

*   *   *

“Sit down, Rosa,” Gina said, carefully untying the black lace hair protector from her head.

Sophia watched Rosa stare uneasily at her and sit down. She wiggled uncomfortably in the chair, her eyes looking around Solly's office. Gina folded the hair protector and placed it and her black handbag on the desk.

“Is Val here?” Rosa asked carefully.

“My daughter-in-law is at church. It's none of her business, anyway. This is between us.”

The three of them sank into silence as they waited for Solly. Sophia watched Rosa squirm, knowing Rosa wanted a cigarette but didn't dare ask whether she could smoke in the room. Everyone knew that since Solly had been on his health kick, smoking was forbidden in his house. Sophia hid a smile as she coughed into her handkerchief.

The door clicked and Solly walked in. He was dressed in white tennis clothes and he stopped for a moment and frowned disgustedly at the three of them. Rosa stood up as he continued to his desk.

“Solly, I—” Rosa began, but she stopped as she watched his eyebrow raise.

“Sit down, Rosa,” Solly said, and they all sat down.

Solly cleared his throat and clasped his hands on the desktop.

“My mother,” he began, darting a frown in Gina's direction, “wants this mess with your boss straightened out another way.”

Gina gave him a crisp smile and folded her arms.

“Okay, your problem is that you don't got enough money to go live in Florida?”

“But he shamed me, firing me from the—”

Solly raised his hands and hushed her.

“The problem is that you don't got enough money to go live in Florida, right?” he repeated.

“Yeah, but—”

“Okay, then,” he said, gritting his teeth as he stared at his mother. “In deference to your late husband getting himself all shot up on the avenue”—Sophia could see Solly wince—“my mother has pointed out to me that I ought to pay for you to go live in Florida.”

“But what—”

“I buy the condo,” his voice interrupted loudly and sharply, “and I throw in a yearly pension of twenty—” Gina coughed, and he grimaced again and corrected the figure. “Thirty thousand a year, tax free.”

“Solly, he did—”

Solly glared at her and stood up.

“Look, youse take the fuckin' condo and the money and we call it even with this guy from your office.”

“But—”

“That's the deal. You better take it”—he glared at his mother again—“'cause this is the last goddamned time I'm makin' this offer. You understand me, Rosa Morelli?”

Sophia caught a glare from him and she stared at the floor. Tough luck, she thought, knowing that she was not going to be popular for this.

They listened to Rosa exhale loudly and Sophia watched her nod.

“All right, I'll take the deal,” she said finally, and got up.

She glared at the three of them and walked out the door. They listened to it slam behind her.

“All right? You happy now?” Solly asked his mother tersely.

“Yes, Enrico.”

“I'm goin' to play tennis,” he said, and Sophia coughed.

“And Michael?”

“I'm gonna get Ralphie to call him off,” he said, and walked over to his mother. “You don't ever do this to me again, eh?” he said fiercely, and Gina sniffed and gave him a look, as if he was being silly.

They listened to the door slam after him.

“I hope this didn't make no trouble for you,” Sophia said gratefully.

Gina waved her hand after Solly and shook her head.

“He got nothing to be upset about. He'll realize what a favor he just did himself once he ships her down to Florida. She isn't gonna call him every fifteen minutes from there.”

She stopped and the two of them stared at each other and then began to giggle, first low, then getting louder and louder until they were bellowing.

“We did it, Soph'. Took us thirty years, but we finally got rid of her!” Gina said, grabbing her around the shoulders.

“Come inside. I got some pastries from Venieros, fresh. I'll make black coffee,” Gina added, and the two of them walked out of the study.

*   *   *

“Why you want to know where they are?” Ralphie was saying over the phone.

“I just want to.”

“You're not going to do anything stupid—”

“Pop! I don't do stupid things. You just tell me where he is, is all.”

Ralphie took the phone away from his ear and covered it with his hand. Well, Tony was a big man and could take care of himself. Besides, he sure as hell didn't want Joey D. as a son-in-law.

“Grand Street and West Broadway, but—” he began, and there was a click on the other end as Angela hung up.

He stood still, and the sinking feeling that he'd just fucked up again came into Ralphie's mind. His eyes caught sight of Solly, stomping off through the main hallway on the way to his tennis match. He gave a wave, which Solly missed as he slammed the big front door. Jeez, he was in another mood. Ralphie stood, watching the phone, and then walked to the front door. He opened it in time to see Solly's car drive past.

Solly glanced out at Ralphie as the car slid in a circle past the door.

“Jerry, stop. I forgot to tell Ralphie something,” he said, pulling himself forward with one hand. His eyes fell on his watch. Now he was going to be late because of his mother's goddamned …

“What, Solly? I didn't catch that.”

“Nothin', just drive. I'll do it later,” Solly said, and leaned back in the seat.

He picked up his new tennis racket and spun it in his hand, feeling the weight. He'd call them off Rosa's guy when he got back. Who the hell knew what those two fuckin' morons had been doing for two whole days, anyway, he thought. Michael, he wasn't surprised at, but Tony?… It seemed like the more time he spent with his cousin, the stupider he got. Jeez, Solly thought, a college education can suck the brains right out of youse. Besides, as long as they'd done the important part, getting Geddone, everything was fine.

*   *   *

Henry had taken his shower, dressed, and was standing at the door, waiting for the elevator to come up. He put a dark pair of glasses on his puffy eyes as he heard the whir of machinery in the shaft begin. It was terribly odd being up at nine in the morning without having been up the whole night. It was the first time in a long while he'd done this.

Henry felt terrible. He needed a drink. His nausea quelled a bit as he heard the elevator start up. He'd go to one of the neighborhood places. He wondered whether they were open this early on a Sunday. Besides, who knew where Morris was.

A chill went through him as he remembered his mother's voice on the answering machine. It must have been a dream, he thought. He stared at the machine. He walked back over to it and hit the replay button as the elevator opened, spreading out a beam of fluorescent light across the dark floor.

The tape replayed and he listened to his mother's voice again as the elevator closed behind him. There was something disturbing in her voice. Something like … her meaning this.

He sank down on the couch, trying to compose himself. He didn't know why this time was different, but he sensed that it was, and as he heard the elevator begin its descent he felt strangely paralyzed.

*   *   *

Angela's white Lincoln ripped out of her parking spot and screeched up the ramp. She stopped just short of the red and white candy cane–colored gate and watched the big yellow bow tied to the rearview mirror shake from the force. She leaned on the horn, waiting for the guy to lift it. She watched it rise up and cursed him as she sped out of the garage and into the sunlight. She squinted and roared to a stop at the corner. She pulled a pair of sunglasses out of the glove compartment. Her eyes caught sight of the bow again and she angrily ripped it off the mirror.