Johnny Porno

Chapter 47

Melinda was awake when Jill called to complain about a fight she’d had with the guy she’d just dumped. It would’ve been a long conversation, except Melinda said she couldn’t tie up the phone and that Jill should come over instead. Jill said she’d be over later in the morning. Melinda said she’d leave a key under the doormat if she wasn’t home.

She watched John sleeping afterward, his face toward her, his abdomen and chest rising and descending ever so slightly. She had to stop herself from reaching out to touch him.

At nine-fifteen she slipped out of bed to make the coffee. She scrambled some eggs, put up the bacon and prepared four slices of toast while listening to the news on her kitchen radio. The weather report… sports… the time.

She woke him at nine-thirty.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Nine thirty-five.”

“Shit.”

“What?”

“I have to call the bar.”

“Why?”

“I have to talk to Vento.”

“Who’s he?”

“Eddie Vento.”

She remembered the gangster. “Why?”

“And Nancy,” John said. “I should probably call her first, see if she spoke to Louis yet.”

“Louis is probably in Las Vegas.”

“Probably, but I need to know. And my mother. I have to call her and see what’s going on there. I told her to go someplace safe.”

“Jesus,” Melinda said. “You made all these plans… when exactly?”

She was feeling left out and it scared her. She called to him as he made his way to the bathroom.

“John?”

“I’ll be right out,” he said.

She saw the bathroom door close.

“You’re shutting me out,” she said.

“What?”

She stood there staring at the bathroom door. She heard the toilet flush, then the sink running.

“John?”

He opened the door and kissed her on the cheek as he tried to brush passed her.

“John!”

He slipped through her hold and headed for the kitchen. Melinda followed him.

“You’re ignoring me,” she said, then waited for him to turn and face her again. “You made all these decisions and none of them include me.”

“I don’t want you involved, Melinda.”

“I am involved, damn it.”

He hugged her.

“I’m afraid for you, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I notice you made breakfast.”

She slapped his arm a bit harder than she intended.

“Ouch.”

“Pay attention to me,” she said. “I’m trying to help.”

“I’m sorry.”

Melinda could feel herself turning red with frustration. “Eat something,” she said. She motioned at him to sit, then poured the coffee while he started on the eggs.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked between bites.

“I was. I’m not now.”

“You should eat.”

She grabbed a piece of toast.

“Jill is coming over.”

“Your waitress friend?”

“She had a fight with some guy she was dating and he won’t stop calling her house.”

“Why doesn’t she leave the phone off the hook.”

“Because then he rings her doorbell.”

“Cops?”

“John, I don’t know, but she’s coming over and I don’t want to talk with anybody right now. I mean it.”

“Okay,” John said.

“Except you.”

“I’m right here.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Why are you calling Nancy?”

“To see if Louis called.”

“And if he did?”

“Maybe she knows where he is.”

“You think she’ll tell you? She loves him. She isn’t going to give him up.”

“She’s scared enough she will. She was terrified last night.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“I saw her. She was scared.”

He was doing it again, defending the woman who had tried to set him up to take a fall with the mob.

“And why call that other guy from the bar?” she asked.

“Because he’s the one who counts,” John said. “It’s Eddie Vento’s money. I need him to know I didn’t rob him. He already knows about me and Santorra.” He grabbed a strip of bacon. “Not what I did last night, but that I popped him at the bar last week. Vento should know what Santorra did to my car.”

“Why would the mob guy care about what Santorra did to your car or that you beat him up?”

“Because Eddie Vento knows Santorra is a fuckup. He told me so himself.”

Melinda was confused. “I don’t see how that helps.”

“Let him suspect Santorra or that he had something to do with it. The punk deserves it.”

“But you won’t give up Nancy, right?”

“I won’t. It was Louis did this. I know she helped, but he’s the one with the money. She’s my son’s mother. I may not be able to find Louis on my own, but they sure can.”

“And how does that help you? If Louis spent it, I mean. You said the mob won’t care anyway, they’ll still look for you.”

“Eddie will, probably, but maybe he won’t kill me.”

It was too much to contemplate. She suggested the obvious. “What about the police?”

“Only if I want to kill myself,” he said. “There’s no turning to the law on this, Melinda. I’m not going that route, looking over my shoulder the rest of my life. No thanks. It was my choice to take that work. It’s my headache.”

There was no talking to the man, she thought. He was stubborn to the point of suicidal.

“I was thinking I’d follow Nancy,” he said. “I’ll have to be careful because Vento’s guys are probably doing the same. I doubt Louis goes to meet her. She’d have to go to him.”

“And he’ll spot you if you’re there and then he’d disappear for sure, right?”

“It gets tricky.”

“If it’s all about the money, I think you should consider my offer again. You could go find Louis after you’re safe.”

He ignored her comment and reached for a piece of toast.

“John?”

“Can I use your car again?”

“Can I come along?”

He sipped his coffee.

“I might be able to help,” she said. “They don’t know me.”

“I don’t want you involved.”

“I know that. And I won’t be, but you might need me.”

“What about work?”

“I already called in.”

“So you made some plans too?”

“Don’t fight me on this.”

He rubbed his temples.

“John?”

“Alright,” he said. “But we do it my way. No arguing.”

She didn’t like giving in, even temporarily, but it was better than watching him leave and then having to spend the day waiting again.

“Okay,” she said. “Deal.”

Billy wasn’t sure if the old man had survived being hit so hard with the handgun, but he’d tied and gagged him anyway. If the geezer wound up suffocating from the gag or choking on his own blood, it’d be his own fault for being nosey.

That had been hours ago. Still impressed by the old man’s nerve, Billy hoped he’d been found.

After leaving Albano’s apartment, he’d driven to the girlfriend’s house. He’d made a few passes around the block, but didn’t see the Buick or the Valiant. It was possible they had gone out to breakfast. It was also possible Albano had started back to Brooklyn and the girlfriend had gone to work, but then Billy spotted movement through the living room window and pulled to the curb two houses from the corner.

The street was quiet except for a few kids he could see in his rearview mirror playing stickball at the far end of the block. Billy put the Walther in a small gym bag alongside his AGA Campolin stiletto before getting out of the car and heading back toward the girlfriend’s place.

He had brought the knife along with the rifle and the Walther because he didn’t have a sound suppressor. Billy figured it was best to stab whoever answered the door.

He was hoping to use the Walther on Albano but was prepared to take him out from a distance with the hunting rifle.

Now he held the knife inside the bag as he pressed the doorbell with his free hand. He released the blade when he heard footsteps behind the door. He held the screen door handle with his free hand and pulled on it as the front door opened.

“Yes?” the woman said a split second before Billy plunged the knife into her stomach.

Her eyes opened wide as she fell back against the pantry wall. Billy stepped inside and closed the front door behind him. The woman was spitting blood. Billy looked into the kitchen but didn’t see anyone. The woman grabbed at his leg.

“Sorry, hon,” he said before squatting down to cover her nose and mouth. Her body jerked, but Billy’s eyes remained glued to the open area in the kitchen. A full minute passed before she stopped moving. Billy continued to cut off her air another thirty seconds, then pulled the Walther from the gym bag and made his way through the house.

He found the note on the kitchen table on his way back to the front door.

“Who’s Mel?” Billy said. “What’s your name, hon, and where the hell’d you go?”

Then he saw the other piece of paper taped to the refrigerator. A list of names and phone numbers in different handwriting:

Billy reached for the phone hanging on the wall. “Let’s not call and ruin the surprise,” he said, lowering his arm. “But let’s do go visit Mom.”

“No, you won’t pay them,” John told his mother over the phone. “I won’t let you.”

“You can’t stop me,” Marie Albano said. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you or my grandson. These people are animals and I don’t know why you bothered with them in the first place, you could’ve come to me if you needed money, but now that they’re coming to my door, I’m going to pay them and that’s it.”

“What do you mean they came to your door?”

“This morning, a little while ago, a tall guy with red hair. He had a badge, but I don’t think he was a cop.”

“What did he want? What did he say?”

“He wanted to know where you were and when I told him I didn’t know he said to give you a message to go see the guy from Brooklyn. Then he asked if Little Jack was home.”

“He knew Jack’s name?”

“No, he said grandson. He asked if my grandson was home with me.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Exactly, and that’s why I’m paying them whatever you owe.”

“I don’t owe them a thing, Ma. I was robbed yesterday. The guy who stole the money owes it.”

“Well, then they’ll get their money because I’m not taking any chances with loved ones. Good-bye.”

“Ma!”

It was too late, his mother had hung up.

“God damn it!” John yelled.

Melinda had been listening alongside him at the pay phone. “They went to your mother?”

“They sent somebody to scare her and it worked.”

“You can’t blame her for being scared.”

“I know that. Obviously they do, too.”

“This is getting out of control.”

John motioned toward the car. “Let’s go,” he said.

“Where?”

“My mother’s.”

“What if they’re watching?”

“Then they’ll see me.”

She stopped before getting in. John slid behind the steering wheel. He put the key in the ignition and started the engine, then turned to Melinda as she got in.

“It’ll be okay,” he said.

Bridget Malone was extra nervous today. Two nights ago she’d nearly been killed by somebody Special Agent Stebenow insisted had been hired by the red-haired cop on Eddie Vento’s payroll. She had assumed the government would bring her in off the streets, but they hadn’t. Stebenow said her life was still in danger and that she should stay with him, but Bridget knew her only real freedom would come when she gave them something to convict Eddie Vento with. After spending the night wondering what to do, she decided to give it one last try.

She’d returned to the bar the following day and was lucky to learn Eddie had spent the night with his wife. Then when he turned up early this morning, she was in the shower when he yelled at her to hurry because he wanted to get laid.

Concerned he might want to fuck as soon as he saw her, she was forced to remove the recording device she had taped to her right thigh. She wrapped it with a pair of black panties and stuffed them in the hamper.

Vento said he needed to use the bathroom when she came out. Bridget used the opportunity to move the backup recorder from the bottom drawer of a night table in her bedroom to under the couch in her living room. Then she removed her clothes to expedite their sex and Vento made her put on high heels when he was ready. He made it rough, bending her over the arm of the couch and not bothering to use a lubricant. He insisted she remain naked but continue wearing the heels afterward.

She used the bathroom again, making sure to flush while she checked the hamper to make sure he hadn’t discovered the tape. Then she plugged herself with a tuft of tissue and returned to the living room. Vento was on the couch. He had lit a cigar and had his feet up on the coffee table. He made her stand in front of him while he peppered her with questions about where she had been the night before.

“Out,” she said. “Why?”

“Because I called and you didn’t answer,” he said.

“So? Where were you? With wifey?”

“That’s my fuckin’ business where I was.”

Bridget set her hands on her hips. “So?” she said.

“You fucking somebody?”

“Besides you, no.”

“You sure?”

“Are you serious?”

“Extremely.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Unless you are and I don’t know about it.”

“I’m not fucking anybody, Eddie. Jesus.”

Vento stared at her until she was nervous enough to smile. “What?” she said.

He didn’t answer. He got up off the couch to use the bathroom again.

Bridget noticed a wire under the couch skirt and quickly dropped to the floor to hide it. She heard the toilet flush and stood up. The tissue plug she’d used dropped to the floor without her noticing. She quickly moved to the windows and adjusted the air-conditioning from high to medium as the bathroom door opened.

“You got any coffee?” Vento said.

“I can make some.”

“Make it then. I need to stay awake.”

“Sleepy, baby?”

“Fuck tired’s more like it. The hell is that?”

Bridget stopped midway to the kitchen and turned around. Vento was pointing to the tissue plug on the floor.

“Oh,” she said. “That’s me.”

“You?”

Bridget went to the tissue and picked it up. “Actually it’s you,” she said. “It must’ve fell out.”

Vento still didn’t get it. Then he looked to where she was pointing and saw his milky liquid had run partway down the inside of her right thigh.

“Jesus Christ,” he said. “Take a shower.”

Bridget wiped her leg and proceeded to the kitchen. “After I make the coffee,” she said. “Takes two minutes.”

“Shower first, for Christ’s sake,” Vento said.

The telephone rang. Bridget picked up in the kitchen.

“It’s me,” someone said.

Bridget remained silent.

“Eddie?”

Bridget recognized the voice. It was Mister Horse. “It’s for you,” she told Vento.

He shooed her out of the kitchen.

“Yeah, it’s me,” she heard him say.

Bridget removed her heels and hustled into the bedroom where she could listen in on the other phone. She slowly, carefully released the receiver and put it to her right ear.

“Where?” Eddie said.

“The mother’s house in Queens.”

“You’re sure?”

“Positive. Kid’s there, too.”

“Albano?”

“Not that I could tell. I don’t think so, but he’ll probably be there soon enough now I scared her.”

“What’s the address? Hold a second, let me get something to write on.”

“I’ll hold,” the cop said.

“Fuckin’ cunt doesn’t own a note pad. I gotta use a pizza box out the garbage. Go ahead.”

Bridget heard the cop rattle off an address, then Eddie said, “Anything else?”

“You could take a look-see while you’re there, the apartment.”

“Those things you mentioned?”

“Due diligence. Something’s there it won’t be hard to spot.”

“Okay, I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Don’t take your time, I’m not comfortable being around here after my initial appearance.”

Vento hung up.

Bridget hung up behind him, then went to the door and quietly stepped out into the hall. She went up as far as the kitchen wall and peeked around the corner. She saw Vento was on his hands and knees looking for something under the chair. Then he seemed to see something under the couch and Bridget headed back to the bedroom. She locked the door behind her, slipped on a pair of low-heeled flats and opened the window leading to the fire escape. Then the bedroom door was kicked open.