The Mark of Cosa Nostra

Fourteen

Two days later I was in Washington, D.C., in Hawk’s office, still wrapped like a cocoon. The small office smelled of stale cigar smoke, although he did not have a cigar now. He sat behind his desk straight across from me. His leathery, creased face wore its constant frown of concern but his eyes were amused.

“The Attorney General has instructed me to place a commendation in your record, Carter.” He smiled at some personal joke. “If we can find room for it.”

“What about Tanya?” I asked.

Hawk leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his flat stomach.

“I’ll see that a letter of commendation is placed in her record,” he said.

When he pulled one of his cigars from his coat pocket, I took out a gold-tipped cigarette. We lit up together with my lighter.

“How is the side?” he asked in a softened voice.

“A little painful but not too bad.”

The final tally had been assorted lacerations and bruises, three ribs with hairline cracks, and that chunk of flesh out of my side. It was enough to keep me in a hospital one day, chomping at the bit to get out.

Hawk pulled the cigar from between his teeth and studied it. “Well, at least one source of heroin moving into Saigon has been stopped.”

I nodded. “Did you ever find out who put those nineteen slugs into Carlo Gaddino?”

“Yes, the same two you caught searching the apartment. They were operating under Sheng’s orders, of course. Seems they got into Gaddino’s place by pretending to be picking up the laundry. Once they were inside, they went directly to the sauna, opened the door, and let him have it with silenced machine pistols — .38s. Nineteen times. Then they picked up the laundry and left.”

“Afterwards I guess they got orders from Sheng to get the list from Acasano.”

“Exactly. And they were to kill Acasano silently, with a dagger.”

“So what happens with the list of the Winged Tiger?”

“It is already happening, Carter. At this moment all the Communists are being rounded up. We’ve discovered that most of them are in this country illegally, so they will be deported back to China.”

I leaned forward and mashed out my cigarette. “Sir, what is going to happen with La Cosa Nostra? With Nicoli and Acasano and Sheng all dead, who will be the new boss of the underworld?”

Hawk shrugged, then mashed his cigar in the ash tray. “They’ll probably find somebody no one has heard of. I’m sure the underworld will continue to function and to flourish. Emergency measures are probably already being taken.”

A picture of Lake Tahoe and a lakeside cabin came to my mind. “What about the real Sandee Catron? You don’t have anything to hold her on, do you?”

“No, we don’t. She is here in Washington, you know. After talking with her for a long time we’ve convinced her that perhaps she would find a rewarding career working for us.”

I leaned forward. “What?”

But Hawk did not even blink. “She has agreed to stay close to Acasano’s friends and to inform us of their activities. Who knows? Perhaps someday the newly elected boss of the American underworld will be an undercover agent working for the Government.”

He stood and leaned forward with his palms flat on the desk. “You have a week off, Carter. Two if you want it. Any plans?”

“Well,” I said standing. “This business about keeping the real Sandee Catron in a cabin has given me ideas. I keep thinking about those mountains north of Flagstaff, a cabin high enough so snow is still all around it, sitting in front of a rock hearth, maybe doing a little fishing during the day, and at night...”

The people in the small village three miles from the cabin said it was very late in the season for snow to be falling. Tanya told me the snowflakes were a welcoming committee.

We found a sleigh for rent with a bay mare to pull it. And when we had loaded it with groceries and supplies, we climbed under the thick quilt and pointed the mare toward our cabin. Tanya snuggled close to me.

The sleigh had a bell on it that brought people out of every cabin we passed. They stood on their porches and waved as we went by.

A scent of pine filled the air. And the trees stood like crowds of tall thin soldiers lining our path. A creek twisted and curved about four feet from the narrow road we were on.

“Be good fishing,” I commented.

“If you have time.”

I looked down at the girl sitting next to me, bundled with a parka, a hint of discolor around her green eyes, the tip of her upturned nose red with the cold. And the look she gave me was a woman’s look, not that of a girl.

By the time we got the sleigh unloaded and the mare taken care of, it was dark. We ate, cleaned up the dishes, and got a fire going in the fireplace.

The cabin was not luxurious. It had three basic rooms. The large living room had the kitchen and dining table at one end and the fireplace at the other. There were two doors besides the front and back leading outside, one to the bathroom and the other to the bedroom. All the furniture had been handmade of pine. There was a large bearskin rug in front of the fireplace.

As I sat in front of the fire smoking, I noticed that the lanterns in the living room were being put out. Tanya had been in the bathroom. When the only light came from the flickering flames of the fireplace, I felt her close to me.

Her hand touched the back of my neck lightly, then slid over my shoulder and down my arm to my hand. She had been standing behind me. Now she came around and knelt in front of me.

She was wearing a knitted sweater that buttoned down the front and a short skater’s skirt. As I started unbuttoning the sweater I noticed that she had nothing under it.

“Ban the bra,” I whispered.

“Right on.” She leaned back on the bearskin rug, her breasts looking smooth and flushed in the firelight.

I knelt beside her. My fingers found the zipper and button on the side of her skirt.

“You aren’t going to have much time for fishing, Nick, darling,” she said in a husky voice.

“What do you think I’m doing now?”

As I tugged down on the skirt, she raised herself so I could get it down the length of her well-shaped legs. She was wearing baby-blue bikini panties with white lace borders. I was smiling as my thumbs hooked around the waistband.

Firelight caressed her smooth skin like dancing fingers. She was very young and very lovely. I kissed the firm flatness of her belly as I pulled the panties down. Then I rose up in surprise.

The tiny barrel of the gun snapped out to point straight up at me. There was a smile on Tanya’s lips. There was a loud click, but no bullet came. A small flag popped out of the gun barrel.

It had two words on it: LOVE ME.