The Mark of Cosa Nostra

Ten

The flight took two and a half hours. We took off from the strip and circled back around as we climbed. Still climbing, the Lear jet flew over Palermo and across the Ionian Sea. When we were over Greece the altitude was so great I couldn’t see any of the ruins. But Mount Olympus, home of the mythical gods, stayed just beyond the tip of our left wing for quite a while. And then we flew across the Aegean Sea and started dropping toward Istanbul. Below lay the Bosporus.

The plane was a new Lear jet, the 24C model, carrying a take-off weight of 12,499 pounds. I had noticed a winged tiger painted on the tail as we were boarding. Tai Sheng, of course, was at the controls.

I was sitting next to a window with Nicoli beside me. The sun had almost set when we made our final approach just outside Istanbul. We were going to land on a small, grassy field. Beyond it I saw a harbor with one cabin cruiser docked.

We had ended up taking quite a group. Thankfully, Tanya was one of them. Besides her, me, Nicoli, and Sheng in the cockpit, there was the torpedo, Quick Willie; the bald Turk who had been introduced as Konya, and who I thought was the Istanbul contact for the heroin; and one of Sheng’s boys, whom I recognized as the man who had snapped my picture in the hotel lobby. We weren’t introduced.

Nicoli had been talking during the whole trip, telling me how he planned to operate La Cosa Nostra once he returned to the United States.

“Here is the way I plan to divide it up, Tommy,” he was saying. “We’ll use Vegas as our central headquarters. A national and worldwide network will operate from there. We won’t want any flunkies moving in and out of Vegas, it would draw too much attention. Only family heads and district managers. Your district, Tommy, will naturally be everything west of Chicago. Now, we’re going to need someone from the list to take care of the East. Some of the boys are pretty good but...”

I listened with half an ear. Tanya was sitting somewhere toward the tail section of the plane. I couldn’t see her without turning around, and that would be too obvious. She had been hustled aboard by Sheng’s man and I hadn’t gotten more than a glimpse of her. Her head had been bowed and she’d had trouble with her legs. The Oriental had to hold her up.

“...So that’s his problem,” Nicoli said. Then he paused. “Are you with me, Tommy?”

I blinked and looked at him. “Sure, Rozano, I’m hearing every word.”

“Good. The East is wide open, there’s terrific potential there. I want your help in picking out a good man to...”

The words came together in a steady drone, blending with the whistle of the jet engines and wind rushing across the plane. The horizon was scarlet with the setting sun. Slightly behind where we were dropping sat the city of Istanbul. The grassy field looked to be part of a private estate, either belonging to the Turk, Konya, or to Nicoli himself.

There was plenty occupying my mind as I felt my ears popping. Besides the concern I felt for Tanya, I was wondering what Sheng’s man in Istanbul would have to say. Looking out the window, I could see an object below — two objects, actually. They looked like cars, but it was getting too dark to tell.

If Sheng had access to files which had a record of that AXE agent at Lake Tahoe, it was possible he could get a file on Nick Carter.

“...I think he would be a good candidate for the East Coast. Tommy, are you listening?”

I smiled, shaking my head. “I’m sorry, Rozano. This altitude, making me dizzy, I guess.”

He frowned. “You never had a problem with heights before.”

“Age changes us all, my friend.”

“Yes, that is true.” He shifted in his seat and watched me closely. “I was thinking of Frank The Cook Desmond. It’s true he isn’t one of us, I mean not of Italian descent, but he’s loyal to me, and smart. What do you think?”

I still wasn’t listening completely. “Frank sounds fine to me,” I said nodding. The name meant nothing.

“I see,” Nicoli said softly. He seemed to settle in his seat with his pudgy hands folded across his lap.

“Rozano,” I said. “I have a strange feeling about this Tai Sheng. Before I received your telegram, two Orientals broke into my apartment and searched it completely. They tore the place upside down, looking for something.”

“Oh?” His eyebrows raised. “And you think Sheng sent them? Huh?”

“Damned right. I caught them and they tried to kill me.”

He sat up straight and looked at me for a few seconds before speaking. “What would you like me to do about him, huh? Have him hit just because you don’t like him?”

“Run a thorough check on him. Find out about his ambitions, and which is more important to him: his loyalty to his Communist Party or his loyalty to you.”

“I have done that, Tommy.”

“Okay, I’ll tell you what I think. He’s after the list. Those two Orientals in my apartment were looking for something specific. They were out to get that list, under Sheng’s orders.”

Nicoli looked unimpressed. He nodded slightly, then let it drop. Suddenly, out of nowhere, he said, “It is getting so a man can’t trust those in his own organization.” And that was all.

Something was wrong here. He had cooled toward me. Had I slipped somewhere? Said the wrong thing? My mind retraced what had just been discussed. But the only thing that stood out was his saying he couldn’t trust those in his own organization.

Now he acted as though I wasn’t there. His double chin dropped to his narrow chest and his eyelids fluttered as though he was falling asleep.

The Lear jet had made its pass and was now circling to land on the grassy field. The sun was a flaming red ball on the horizon. It would be dark in less than an hour.

“Rozano?” I said.

He held his hand up to silence me. “I have heard everything you said. Now we will wait and see.”