MURDER TAKES TIME

Chapter 60

 

Say Goodbye to Cleveland

 

8 Months Ago

I raced home taking corners at speeds I shouldn’t have, cutting people off, even running traffic lights. Instinct told me I shouldn’t be doing this, but I had lost control. Between fits of crying and vows of vengeance, I found the will to slow down so the cops didn’t pick me up. All I could think of was Gina, on the verge of getting what she wanted, and it was taken away from her in the most brutal fashion. I prayed she was with God now. She should be. 

When I wasn’t feeling sorry for Gina, I managed to drown in my own pity. After finally escaping the life my father lived, the one that ruined his own life, I found happiness. But they took that away when they killed Gina. Now they were going to pay. I always hated the looks in the eyes of the people I killed, that horrible realization just before they died, but there were several sets of eyes I was looking forward to seeing. 

I parked the car, went into the house, and packed the few clothes I had. It took me longer than I wanted to gather Gina’s things, as I found myself staring at them and reminiscing. Pictures, notes she wrote. Suddenly even a scribble on a piece of torn paper behind a refrigerator magnet was a masterpiece. And it was; it was hers. As I was packing I came across a necklace I bought her. It was her favorite—St. Anthony, the patron saint of lost items and travelers. I smiled. We were a little of both. I closed my eyes, pictured her twirling that damn thing around her mouth, whisking little St. Anthony back and forth across the bottom of her chin. It was what stopped me that day I saw Gina through the gun sites. It was what saved me. How many times since then had I watched her twirling? Whenever she was nervous, excited, happy, sad—it didn’t matter; there seemed to be a special twirl for each emotion. 

I tried smiling, but tears came instead. I brought the necklace up to my lips and kissed it. “They will pay, Gina. Trust me, they will pay.”

I walked about the house, reconfirming memories, then got out before my emotions took hold. By eleven on Monday morning I had been to the banks and got our cash from the safe deposits. Then I got the gun she had as evidence on Tito. I drove the car to long-term parking, took the shuttle to the airport and caught a cab to the bus station. Kansas City was on my list. I had to go see a guy named Minnow, one of the many connections I’d made in prison. He could get me whatever I wanted. 

Five days later, I left KC with everything I needed: another new identity, new car, and a new gun. Several new guns. I drove the speed limit all the way. No sense risking being picked up for speeding with guns in the car. New York was a two-day drive, but that was fine. It would take me that long to figure out what I was going to do to Renzo when I found him. There was no way he was getting a quick death. And once I got Renzo, I’d find out who else was involved. 

Who knew I was in Cleveland? Who could have known? I had no contact with anyone. 

That’s when it hit me. Bugs. I called Bugs about the gun. He must have tracked the call to Cleveland. 

Not only had they killed Gina, but Bugs broke the oath. I pounded the steering wheel, wanting to break it. After all I did for Bugs, and he does this!

As I drove over the Pennsylvania line, I realized the old Nicky Fusco was dead. There was just Nicky the Rat now. And as I thought about the things I was going to do to Bugs, I realized that I had no funny feeling in my gut. Sister Thomas might have a hard time explaining that one.