The Mark of Cosa Nostra

Six

I told myself I would just rest for a few minutes. But when I opened my eyes I found the first hint of daylight creeping into the room. I was on my back. Tanya’s bleached hair was resting in the hollow of my shoulder.

I wondered why it was that in the morning a woman’s body is always so very warm, and so much smoother than it had been the night before.

But something had awakened me. Something had stirred my subconscious to bring me aware of what was around me. I lifted my left arm enough to look at my watch. A little after five.

Then the sound came again. A steady pounding on the front door, muffled by air space through the living room and hallway. It was not even a knock or a quick rapping. It was slow and irregularly spaced like a loud, dying heartbeat. I stirred, which woke Tanya.

She raised her head without opening her eyes. “Nick?” she murmured. “What is it?”

“Somebody is pounding at our door.”

Her head went back to my shoulder. “They’ll go away,” she said sleepily.

I shook her shoulder. “Sandee,” I whispered loudly. “This is your place, and I want to know who it is.”

She licked her lips without opening her eyes. “They’ll go away,” she mumbled. “Don’t want to know.”

“I want to know. It might be some more like our two friends last night.”

Her green eyes popped open. She raised up just as the pounding came again. There was no sleep in those eyes now.

“Nick,” she said out loud. “Somebody is pounding on the front door.”

I nodded, smiling at her. “Why don’t you see who it is.”

She threw back the covers, and for a few moments I enjoyed the movements of her nakedness as she fished through her suitcase. She found a little powder-blue shorty negligee complete with matching panties.

Her fingers combed through her hair as she made last-minute adjustments to the nightie. It was sheer enough to make out the color of her nipples. With a quick smile at me, she went out of the bedroom and along the hallway to the front door.

I moved quickly out of bed, knelt, and opened my own suitcase. There was a black quilted robe, which I put on. Then I fished under my pants lying on the floor next to the bed until I felt the cold steel of Wilhelmina, my Luger.

With the gun in my hand I moved to the open doorway of the bedroom. I could see down the hall and across the living room to the front door. Tanya waited at the door watching me. I closed the door, leaving just a crack to look out of. Then I nodded at her.

“Who is it?” she asked timidly.

The grumbling from the other side of the front door was masculine but I couldn’t make out the words. Then the pounding started again.

Before Tanya unlatched the door, I walked to the bedside table and snatched up my cigarettes and lighter. I lit one while watching her click the latch.

It was Mike, the blond boyfriend from the photo. And he was drunk. He came lumbering in as Tanya fell back, then stood swaying back and forth. He put most of his weight on a cane; the two broken legs must not have completely healed yet.

Tanya was sharp. “Mike!” she said in mock surprise. “What are you doing here?”

“Where issa sombitch?” he bellowed. “Had a hell of a time findin’ this place. Where is he, Sandee?”

She was backing slightly, making sure she didn’t get between me and the boyfriend. I lit one of my gold-tipped cigarettes and blew smoke at the ceiling.

In broad daylight, had Mike been sober, he might have easily seen that he was not talking to Sandee. But the hour was still early; the sun wasn’t up yet, and Tanya played her role well.

“Mike, you’re drunk,” she said. “If you wake him up, he’ll do more than just break your legs.”

“Aha!” Mike shouted. “Knew that bastard caused the accident. Get your clothes. We’re gettin’ out of here.”

Tanya had backed to the hall. “No, Mike. I’m staying. I like it here.”

He stood swaying, staring at her. “You... mean you’d rather stay with that old bastard?”

“He does things for me that you never could.”

“Come back to me, Sandee.”

“No. I told you, I like it here.”

His lips quivered. “Nothin’ is any good any more. It’s not the same without you. Please... come back,” he begged.

“I think you’d better leave,” she said.

I noticed he had a ruggedly handsome face in person. The blond hair was cut in such a way to make him look like a little boy, a fact I’m sure he realized. If Tanya couldn’t get rid of him, I’d have to. She was backing down the hallway now.

“Sandee,” he cried. “The bastard is no good for you. You’re so young you don’t understand. What he did to me, breaking my legs, was nothin’. He’s a criminal. He has people killed, don’t you see. He’s part of the Mafia.”

“I don’t believe you.” I was more and more impressed by Tanya’s quick mind.

“It’s true, I checked. Sandee, has he got something on you? Is he making you stay here?”

She shook her head. “No. I told you twice, I’m here because I want to be.”

“I don’t believe you.” He reached for her. “Baby, I need you real bad.”

Tanya danced away. She was close to the bedroom door now. “Mike,” she said in a calm voice. “I asked you nicely to leave.”

Then he stopped. He stood staring at her, his knuckles growing white as he gripped the cane. “He made you like this,” he cried. “That Acasano did it. I’ll kill the bastard!”

That was when I opened the bedroom door and stepped into the hall. I shoved the snout of the Luger to within inches of his nose. In as tough a voice as I could muster, I said, “Now’s your chance, punk. What is it you wanted to do?”

His bloodshot brown eyes blinked at me. He fell back three steps toward the living room and wet his lips with his tongue. “I...” he mumbled. “You’re pretty tough with that gun. I... wonder how tough you’d be without it.”

“You aren’t going to find out, punk, because you’re leaving.”

He stood tall. “I’m not going until Sandee tells me to.”

Tanya was leaning against the wall watching us. Her nipples pushed against the thin material of the nightie. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you since you got here, Mike. I want you to leave.”

His good-looking boyish face wrinkled in pain as he looked at her. “Do you mean that? You prefer this... old... man to me?”

I stepped over to Tanya. Reaching out with my free hand I lightly patted the underside of her left breast. She smiled.

“What do you think of that?” I said. Then I stepped toward him threateningly. “Now you listen to me, punk, and you listen good. Sandee is my broad now, see? You get the hell out of here and you stay away. I see your ugly face around again I’ll pump it so full of lead you’ll look like a diving belt.” To add a little flavor to my threat I backhanded him with my free hand across the face.

The slap sounded loud in the quiet morning air. He spun half around and grabbed one of the living-room chairs to keep from going down. The cane dropped to the floor.

Tanya ran over to him. She picked up his cane and handed it to him. Then she turned to me. “You didn’t have to hit him so hard. You could have just told him.”

I stood silent with Wilhelmina hanging loosely in my hand, aimed at the floor. “I want him out of here,” I said softly.

Mike hobbled toward the door. When Tanya opened it for him, he looked steadily at her. “And you’re here because you want to be?”

She nodded. He stepped into the hallway outside, then turned back to me.

I lifted the Luger. “Something else you wanted, punk?”

“Yeah. I was wondering how interested the police would be in how I got my legs broke.”

“Any time you grow weary of life, ask them.”

Tanya shut the door. For a few seconds she gripped the knob and rested her head against the door. Then she turned around to face me. She gave out a long sigh. “What do you think?”

I shrugged. “I think he bought it. If anyone were to ask him, I think he would say he saw Sandee and Acasano.”

She turned away from the door and went in the kitchen. I heard her pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. I dropped Wilhelmina in my robe pocket and went to stand in the doorway.

She was leaning against the sink with her back to me. “I think something is happening, Nick.”

“What?”

“I feel rotten about what we did to Mike.” She turned to face me. “Acasano was the lowest type of creature I ever heard of. And, Nick, I’m starting to think you’re him.”

I smiled at her. “I must be pretty good at my job, then.”

She ran across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I don’t ever want to hate you, Nick. Not ever.”

The telegram came that afternoon.